我在那年冬天的记忆
黑龙江1940，一个充满寒风和战乱的冬季。那时，我还只是一个孩子，但我的记忆却深深刻印在了那个冰冷而又复杂的年代里。
每当夜幕降临，整个村庄都会变得异常安静。火炉里的炭火燃烧着红色的光芒，人们围坐在旁边讨论着战争的消息。外面传来枪声和爆炸声，那是远处前线的声音。我不知道战争是什么，但能感受到它带来的恐惧与不确定。
winters of 1940 on the Heilongjiang River, a time of frost and conflict. I was just a child then, but my memories are etched deep in that cold and complex era.
As night fell, our village would become eerily quiet. The coal fire crackling in the hearth cast a reddish glow, as people gathered around to discuss news from the war. Sounds of gunfire and explosions came from afar - those were distant battlefront sounds. I didn't know what war was about, but felt its fearfulness and uncertainty.
That winter was harsher than any other before or since. Frosty winds howled through our small village like restless spirits, chilling us to the bone even indoors where we huddled together for warmth. My father's hands were roughened by working outdoors all day; his eyes bore an unwavering determination - he had no choice but to work hard to feed his family amidst such hardship.
My mother tried her best to keep us warm with patchwork quilts made from scraps of fabric she'd sewn together over years gone by; they provided some comfort against the biting cold outside yet could never fully shield us from it all.
At night when sleep eluded me due to shivering chills or thoughts about things beyond my control (the war), I often found solace in listening closely at how snowflakes gently fell onto our roof above each time it snowed - their soft whispers seemed soothing compared with other noises around us that year which brought only worry & fear into our lives while reminding them both daily of this very same world we lived in now called "Black Dragon River" during "Heilongjiang 1940".