Working with Grandma

　　Working with my grandma yesterday was something I remember doing for the first time. It left a deep impression on me, so I decided to record it in my collection of essays, "Gentle Memories."
　　As usual, I went to my grandma's house for lunch yesterday. Entering the living room, I saw five or six baskets of sweet potatoes. Grandma told us that she had dug these sweet potatoes from her own garden and planned to use them to make sweet potato wine after washing them.
　　Seeing so many sweet potatoes to wash, I felt bad for her and wanted to help her wash them after lunch. Grandma nodded in agreement, seeing how well-behaved we were.
　　Then, Grandma prepared the things needed to wash the sweet potatoes. There was a large iron basin, two large buckets for holding the sweet potatoes, and several brushes because the sweet potatoes had a thick layer of mud on their surface. Our job was to brush off that thick layer of mud.
　　I have to admit, most of the sweet potatoes Grandma dug were quite large and irregularly shaped. Some were oval-shaped, some resembled the sweet potatoes we eat, and some had a large cut on them. Besides these, there were also a few that were ugly, some shaped like carrots, some like small gourds, and some perfectly round.
　　In short, they came in all sorts of shapes, and I couldn't describe them all in detail.
　　At first, I just sat on a small stool, looking at the sweet potatoes in the iron basin. I picked up a muddy sweet potato and washed it with my hands. As a result, my clean hands were later covered in mud. I was quite frustrated; the clean water in the basin turned into muddy water because Grandma had poured out a basket full of muddy sweet potatoes.
　　Grandma gave me a brush and reminded me to use it. Then, the three of us officially began washing the sweet potatoes. Since most of the sweet potatoes were quite large, they were quite heavy, and several times I felt very strained to lift them. Plus, I'm quite tall, so I had to bend over and sit outside with Grandma and my sister to wash the sweet potatoes.
　　I treated washing sweet potatoes like a mission, diligently washing them as if they were my clothes. Grandma laughed and said I didn't need to scrub so hard. She told me to hold the sweet potatoes in my left hand and put them in the water, then rotate them as I scrubbed. That way, I could get them all clean.
　　Unfortunately, my left hand was always a little slower than my right, and I could never quite get Grandma's method right. To rotate the sweet potatoes, I always needed my right hand's help. I felt quite helpless about this; since my left hand holding the sweet potatoes couldn't rotate them nimbly, I had to accept it.
　　Since there were five or six baskets of sweet potatoes to wash, I just kept going. While the three of us were washing sweet potatoes, my sister often complained that I got muddy water on her. I felt quite helpless myself. Actually, while washing the sweet potatoes, muddy water also welled up in my eyes. I silently thought it was probably because I was working too hard, and suddenly I felt a little lucky that Grandma wasn't sitting next to me.
　　Around 1 PM, Grandma and I tried to persuade my younger sister to go to school, but she seemed to be engrossed in washing sweet potatoes and refused, finally going around 2 PM. Before leaving, she specifically asked me to help Grandma wash the sweet potatoes before she left, and Grandma and I reluctantly agreed. Actually, even if she hadn't asked, I would have helped Grandma wash the sweet potatoes until I finished. My sister even said she wanted to wash more sweet potatoes when she got home from school and asked us to save some for her. Grandma told us that the sweet potatoes wouldn't be washed all at once. When my sister came home from school, she refused to wash any more, even though there was still a huge pile of sweet potatoes.
　　To help Grandma and ease her burden, I stayed with her washing sweet potatoes for the entire afternoon, from around 12 PM to 5 PM, about five hours.
　　While washing the sweet potatoes, I thought about my two younger sisters, my older sister and my cousin, my second uncle's daughter. If they came to Grandma's house and saw Grandma and me washing sweet potatoes outside, would they come and help? I was thinking that if they helped, Grandma's workload would be reduced, and she might not need to wash the sweet potatoes anymore. Thinking about this, I surprisingly didn't find washing sweet potatoes boring; instead, I worked even harder.
　　So, after Grandma and I finished washing the sweet potatoes and put them away, we poured out the dirty water, washed the dirty metal basin, and Grandma sliced the washed sweet potatoes for Grandpa. Then I poured in some clean water and continued washing, repeating this process over and over. Watching the dirty sweet potatoes decrease until they were gone, I felt incredibly fulfilled and happy, suddenly realizing that it was all worthwhile. Only after washing the sweet potatoes did I unexpectedly discover that the sleeves of my cotton coat and the cuffs of my black pants were covered in dust.
　　However, for me at that moment, nothing was more joyful than washing the sweet potatoes clean. It wasn't until last night before bed that I thought of writing down what happened yesterday. Therefore, at this moment today, I'm recording this article to preserve a beautiful memory.
　　...
　　A gentle, sunny day has something to say:
　　The specific descriptions of sweet potatoes in the text may not be entirely accurate, and some words may lack professionalism. However, this article is based on my true memories, so please forgive any shortcomings in the writing!