Reading at night 丨 I do n’t look at myself, anyone can wide the sky

Every day when I go home from get off work, I will pass through an abandoned garden, surrounded by shabby wooden fences, and the grass is scarlet. Most of the pedestrians passing by passing by, few people stop here, and I am no exception. After all, the grass of a garden is not unusual. That day, I passed by the garden again, and inadvertently glanced, I found a few clusters of yellow and white flowers beside the weeds, like a little sun with a smile on the wind, lively and enthusiastic, I seemed to meet an old friend who had been reunited for a long time. , Can't help cheering, hi, a year of fluffy.

One year of Pong belongs to the family of chrysanthemums, it is very common in the countryside, and not to mention the front and houses, the fields can be seen in the field, even if it is in the gully, the hillside, the stone seam, in the gap, in the gap, in the gap, in the gap, in the stone seams, in the gap, in the seams of the stone,, in the seams of the stone seams, in the gaps, in the gap, in the gap, in the gap, in the gaps, in the gap, in the gaps, in the gaps, in the gaps, in the gaps, in the gap, in the gap, in the gap, in the gap, in the gap, in the gap, in the gap, in the gap, in the gap, in the gap, in the gap, in the gap, in the gap, in the gap, in the gap, in the gap, in the gap, in the gap, in the gap, in the gap, in the gap, in the gap, in the gap, It is also everywhere to reproduce everywhere, sprout in autumn and winter, and bloom in spring and summer. It is probably because of the wind and frost and involved in rain and snow.

The first relationship with the first year is at the age of fifteen or sixth. That year, I was admitted to the key middle school in the city. On the day of the report, I wore outdated clothes and spoke Mandarin in the feet. In front of the bright classmates, it was like weeds in the flower garden. For the first time, I saw myself. The gap with the children in the city, a moment of inferiority was rooted in my heart. During that time, my emotions were very depressed, and I lost their interest and confidence in learning and life. In desperation, the teacher called my mother and asked her to do school for me.

Back at home, I was gloomy all day and closed myself in the room. My mother was afraid that I was sick, so I discussed with me that the flowers in the countryside were all blooming. Let's take a look. I couldn't bear the heart of my mother, and nodded and agreed. Along the way, the mother pointed at the flowers and plants on both sides of the road. Girl, you see the hibiscus blooming, big and gorgeous. After a while, girl, you see how strong the Holva is. When she turned her head, she was amazed at a Ling Xiaohua entangled on the elm tree again. Girl, you see the orange speakers blowing up. I perfunctoryly headed my head until my mother squatted in a small yellow and white flower, full of love, and said softly, girl, you see, a year of fluffy. I stood there and watched the small flowers of this clumps open. What kind of brightness is this? They dance on the breeze, smiling with clouds, and frankly, even if they are standing in those colorful. In front of flowers and plants, it did not show a trace of arrogance.

Suddenly, there was a circle of ripples in my heart. These days bothering my inferiority and confusion, at that moment, was illuminated by a year: everything in the world, how can there be no high and low, and the strange flowers are also strange flowers. Well, the wild flowers that are unprecedented, are bathing the sun in the same way, carrying rain dew in the same way, and blooming peacefully. This is the same for flowers and plants, and as the same is true of people. As long as you cultivate a comfortable heart in the earth, no one can be lighter to himself.

I bypassed the wooden fence, walked into the garden, looked at the year in front of me, and greeted it affectionately. Hello, old friend, do you live here? It looked at me, smiling, and smiling, how could it be bad?

Source: Stepon, July 6, 2022, "Chutian Metropolis Daily", Si Dezhen, the nostalgia author of the nostalgia and nostalgia

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