After junior high school, I went to another school and my mother stopped teaching me. The school I attended was more than a kilometer away from my home on a dirt road that was not very wide, and on the way there, I had to cross a hill that was not too big, but was uninhabited. This was a test for me, who had lived in a privileged environment since childhood. The initial novelty wore off after a few days, and the rest of the day required a long patience to adapt to the sun, rain, heat and cold. All of this seemed to be nothing in my mother's eyes, and she would cite many examples to prove that I was still living in a very privileged environment. Indeed, compared with children from rural areas who commute 10 miles to school every day, I am very lucky.
In the past three years, what I remember most is my mother standing on a deserted hillside watching me go to school and waiting for me to come home. Whether it was sunny or rainy, my mother would always send me to school, all the way over that hill. Standing at the top of the hill, I could see our school, and my mother watched me walk into the school before she turned around. After school, when I finished climbing the hill, I would always see my mother standing in the same place waiting for me, and then she would take my school bag and chant all the way home.
At a later stage, I actually didn't want my mother to pick me up and drop me off. I was afraid my classmates would laugh at me if they saw it. But this request was never granted by my mother, who said it was dangerous for a girl to walk on the road. I didn't understand what the danger was, I just thought my mother's worry was unnecessary. The most lenient times, because there are classmates together, because of my mother's carelessness, I realized that my mother is still following us, has been watching us over that hill.
Now that my son is in kindergarten and I'm rushing around like a robot every day, I never dare to delay picking up my child on time, and that's when I realized what danger my mother was referring to at the time.
I think I finally got out of my mother's sight when I went to college. My mother still drove me, but only on summer and winter vacations. On the platform, both my father and mother were no longer young. My mother no longer chattered, staring at me with moist eyes. I didn't dare to look into my mother's eyes for fear that she would shed another tear. It was my father, who had always been a man of few words, who began to chant, "The child is going to school, not doing anything!" I stepped on the train, did not look back and went straight to the trunk, until the train started, only dare to put his face on the glass window, look at the platform of the fading mother's silhouette.
The days after that were filled with letters. At the bottom of my box, I still have a pile of letters from my parents. My father's words were so brief and concise that he would write a letter in just a few words. At the end of each letter, my mother would write a few words, mostly about adding more clothes when it's cold, eating more and not getting sick, and so on. I have always been glad that I still keep those seemingly worthless letters, years later, opened those letters, I was moved to tears by the simplest words. I know that the days when I was not with my mother, she has also been watching over me with her words, concerned about me.
After writing these words, I realized that it was raining again outside the window. As I got up to close the window, the phone chirped crisply. The phone on the other end, and rang the mother's nagging voice: it's raining, remember to take the umbrella when picking up the children ......
I "hmmmm" agreed to the voice a little shaky, mother, this life, I can not go out of your sight! I can't walk out of your line of sight Whether I'm stepping on a drunken tango, or dancing a gorgeous ground source heat pumps waltz, is a posture, stumbling walk? Or ......, but fortunately, I did not fall, still self-indulgent singing, although my song seems to be noise, noisy you, but my heart is happy.
Oh, because here you are, I am not out of your sight small raindrops.
I once said, "The raindrops are too small, the raindrops fall on the ground, there is nothing." You said, "The raindrops are too small. You said, "The sound of the raindrops is very beautiful, is a rare wonderful music" "Although the raindrops are small, but the same can be fine moist flowers, grass and trees ah" "I like to listen to the sound of the raindrops, like the rain scene! "I love the sound of raindrops and the scene in the rain.
Yes, come to the red sleeve has been a few years, the feeling has been walking, but always out of your sight; has been hesitant, but still difficult to move forward; although the footsteps are a little messy, some shades of different, but has not retreated.
Feeling that I have been walking in your sight, perhaps you would say that I love a flavor Tea is mostly produced in the central to southeastern and southwestern China. Tea is divided into green, red he is a timid man not ever orchid Jingfang see you; feeling has been tracing your footsteps, you may say, I do not know?
Is it necessary to have to know you? I do not exist because I let anyone see, but because of my existence, so that you see a still singing sometimes sad, sometimes happy songs prostrate me, raindrops.
I love the words here, I love the you, me, him. I like to have you, I write together with the happiness of the text, oh, no matter what, here left too many of my footprints.
The ability to let people leave footprints, so that people want to go, but still did not go, who can have? I'm sure you're the only one, Red Sleeves.
The red sleeve website is a place for me to laugh with my text friends.
Who let you dashing dance red sleeve, only you, red sleeve. The first thing you need to do is to get your hands dirty. Because of the red sleeves have you, I, his friends like hobby text, because here you, I, he wrote a different article together, because there are you, I, his different bells and whistles to him. Because we will dress up your red sleeves more charming, so that people can not bear to leave.
Look at you gradually grow up, 10 anniversary, not easy anniversary, let me take what to celebrate your 10th birthday, only to pick up the pen in hand again, to you, to express my sincerity, congratulations on your 10th birthday, congratulations on you more and more better.
You know what? I have been the rain that can not go out of your sight.
It is a still self-indulgent and free rain, the rain that dances with the wind, the rain that likes to listen to the sound of the wind, the rain that likes to dance with the wind and the snow, and the rain that walks in the rain together.