What is expensive in life

When I was just about to remember things, I was just catching up with the popularity of earthquake prevention knowledge across the country after Tangshan earthquake, as well as the long novels about government and people’s army’s rescue and selfless dedication to the lives and property of people in disaster areas, reportage was filled with all kinds of newspapers and broadcasts at that time. Then the village had a ANN has two loudspeakers broadcast is in before my house not far, might be the effect of the special provisions, every day 5:30 points that large loudspeaker ring on time, the broadcast will not end until 8:00 in the evening. The deafening sound made the village look particularly quiet, and even the neighboring villages several miles away could hear clearly. Those voices describing bloody post-disaster scenes, beating everyone’s eardrum all the time, like the children around me, I stared at the frightened eyes every day, nowhere to hide the pervasive horrible voice, and my young heart was full of fear, for the first time, I feel the fragility and powerlessness of human life in front of the Nature full of mystery. I feel that I have been around everyone all the time, from then on until now, no matter in winter or summer, I always unconsciously wear that kind of rigorous pajamas when I sleep every night. At that time, I always thought that when I died for whatever reason, I must dress neatly. There is another problem that is often entangled in my mind, that is, in the most urgent time, who will I suddenly think? In the dangerous process of escaping from an arrow step, what would be the one who held tightly in his arms and refused to give up? This question often appears in my mind or dreams, and it seems that there has never been an answer. But I know that at the critical moment of life and death, what can make me remember or remember for the first time, In the face of death, those who are eager to stay with them, tightly held in their arms and unwilling to let go, must be the most expensive thing in life! When I was young, my parents took care of me carefully. The most precious things were nothing but colorful candy paper, beautifully printed pictures cut from various magazines, temporary new knives, erasers, books and so on. I remembered that I had a small box with a lock, which contained my whole colorful childhood. Later, when I went to school, I learned to write diaries. Instead, I remembered diaries like running books one by one. In fact, there was no secret at all, which could be handed over to teachers. Later on, when I went to high school and lived in the school, my classmates scattered all over the country. Letters containing pure friendship became the treasure of that era. At that time, I had a lot of letters and was famous throughout the school year. There were three or five letters every day. My study task was tight and I didn’t have time to write back. However, those sincere greetings came one after another as scheduled. How could I be willing to abandon them? I saved a lot and locked them in my little wooden box together with my childhood memories. My elder sisters may be afraid of my early love, so they pried open my most precious small wooden box together with some sisters next door (maybe it is trustlot, I was afraid that I couldn’t see it for a while when there were few people). Finally, I found out that in a rage, all the diaries and letters were burnt, which seemed to be reduced to ashes together with the memories of 17 years ago. Since then, I didn’t write diaries any more, and I didn’t have my own private space. For a long time, my whole heart was empty like being hollowed out. I went back to the small village where I lived ten years ago, and collected my childhood photos from my neighbors. Together with my mother’s collection, I carefully packed the collection, as the only thing I could rely on for those past feelings. However, although it was only a little bit, I still lost it in a painful parting. I have been looking for things like crazy for countless times, together with the truest emotion in my heart, I can no longer find marriage and have children. As the little boy grows up day by day, except taking care of him every day, I don’t expect too much from him. His children and grandchildren have their own blessings. He will have his own life. I believe he will live a better life. When the child went to school, he remembered that he had forgotten himself for many years and picked himself up again was just an empty shell. So what on earth is my most precious thing? Where should I look for it? At the age of thirty, I also experienced some parting between life and death. I don’t know if I should stop writing this. The so-called red stripes come and go without worrying. At this time, except for my mother and son, I really have nothing precious to cherish and miss, even if I die at this moment. Or the so-called precious things are just the basis of some material feelings! Perhaps the most precious thing should be an emotion! Happiness only represents the past, which will be a kind of sadness! The cherished emotion only lives in memory, which is even more cruel! Then please give me a football! For the moment, insert those fragmentary patch-like memories left when I was young, together with the unbalanced emotions that I once regarded as precious in this world, and then take a deep breath, concentrate all your strength on your feet, kick it out, kick it far away, and you ‘d better fly out of the sky! Or send me a big colorful kite, let the past joys and sorrows, worries, emotions and sorrows be tied on the unfolded feather wings, and only a thin line is connected to me, then as the cold wind goes, it flies higher and higher. When my hands can’t hold it, or the small silk thread can’t bear the heavy load, cut it, let it go, let it drift away with the wind, best floated up to Mars! Be my obedient daughter, ordinary woman and busy mother with ease. Human beings are forgetful animals. They also remind themselves that they often take up a pen to rewrite a diary recording the happiness of the family, which can be published all over the world without privacy. Maybe these are more worthy of collection. Is this the expensive thing in my life? The kinship maintained by blood will last forever and forever!

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