Yellowing of the memory

In today’s boring days, looking through these old photos which have been slightly yellowish, I suddenly found that I was so young and beautiful. The past years reflected in my heart again with this image, unconsciously, life slipped quietly at my fingertips like this. I once had dreams, losses, bitterness and happiness! Childhood is my happiest memory. Although I was born in a poor rural family, I still lived that happy time without worry. We went down the river to fish with children of the same age, played hide-and-seek in the haystack, made snowmen to fight with each other, and together with our two brothers pulled the snow sledge to pick up frozen cow dung. His face was frozen like a ripe red apple, and his small hands were as cold as popsicles. He was still so happy. How happy it would be if a person’s whole life could be as happy as his childhood! With the continuous growth of life, everything that one has to undertake will come one after another. Facing the ups and downs in life is also the responsibility that one must bear and undertake. Sometimes I think that if a child is sensible later, he will be more happy. If I was sensible later in those years, maybe I will be more happy. But what should old parents do! Although that period of time was very bitter and tired, when the yellowish silhouette emerged, my heart still felt nostalgia and nostalgia like this. The youth and flower-like years of that year slipped away quietly, leaving only the pain and a heart that had experienced vicissitudes. Looking back on the busyness of the past and the past, I didn’t feel that I was also a girl in the flower season. Looking at the sunny and childish face in the photo, I realized that I was too young! Yes, who can never be young! The creator is fair and will not give anyone more years of youth or less years. Once I studied hard under the lamp and was so diligent; Once I shuttled through the fields for spring planting and autumn harvest, and so tired, which was the imprint of youth. Now it has been deposited at the bottom of the Lake of memory together with this yellowish photo, and occasionally there are some ripples in my mind. It is this growing experience that makes me mature and understand the true meaning of life, and makes me deeply understand how to love everyone around me with heart! Unconsciously, the night came again, and the time of the day was quietly drawn to the curtain. In this silent night, writing down this paragraph, is it talking to yourself or to whom? Everything is written at will and typed on the keyboard. Can’t Hold the night, can only record this bit!

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