When I was 5 years old, my mother took me to my grandmother's house. Grandma lives in the country, so many people ride horses from this village to that village. I am envious and want to try riding, but Matthew is too tall for me to ride. I was just about to get on the bus when I saw my grandmother feeding the pigs. I thought pigs were small and easy to eat. As soon as I saw grandma feeding pigs, I went to the pigsty. The pig ran into grandma's garden. The cucumbers and persimmons in it were trampled by pigs. I was also scratched by the branches of the fruit tree. This time, grandma caught the pig. After she drove the pig into the nest, she said I was too naughty to even ride the pig.
Another time was when I was seven years old. I just learned to ride a bike. I was not very good at riding at that time. My mother and I rode bicycles to the square to play, where there was a lot of space. I got there by bike, riding faster and faster, and suddenly I saw an adult riding a bike in front of me. I couldn't stop because I rode too fast. I was about to hit it when my mother called me. I thought to myself, "I'll get hurt if I hit it, and I'm not good at riding." What if I tumble? " I don't know what to do. Then I suddenly remembered: "It must be okay to jump out of the car." I jumped out of the car. I wasn't hurt, but my car was hit by that man.
Whenever I recall these things, I always giggle, so sweet and so brilliant. It seems that all fascinating memories are vividly reproduced. I continue to think about the poetic years and dreamy seasons of youth ... I think childhood is a tree without rings, which will never grow old and will never disappear. ......