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Cross the bumps and move towards your dreams

Time: 2015-05-06 Source: Original Editor: Xiaozhi Reading: Times

Last year was the Year of the Horse, and most of the New Year's greetings were funny words such as "horse success". The big New Year's Eve in my memory is extremely depressed, and everyone just quietly pastes windowpanes, making dumplings, and sends the gods against the colorful sparks of the night and the sound of firecrackers that almost shakes the ears, as if they separated a small world Only silence and depression.

I know why. Rent, college, disease-these ordinary things are invading this long-heavy home with a stingy look. When I was sitting on the southbound train again, I told myself that this was just another hurdle in my life. Like countless hurdles I had encountered before, I was able to survive the shadows of my youth's death and the mystery of youth displacement. Can cross the mountains this time.

As always, studying, part-time, writing, only slightly awkwardly when paying tuition fees. Facing the worried eyes of the teachers and students, I smiled bitterly and open-mindedly. Fortunately, the days are busier than ever. The juniors have to think about the way forward. I thought that I would go very firmly on the way to further studies, but I could not help but shrink back—the desire to work, independent Desire, the kind of inexhaustible heart that digs out of the bones twitches the restless heart. It seems that when I was very young, I was very eager to grow up and to gain the strength of an adult.

Everyone is admonishing me that it is regrettable that a student who has enough grades in Baoyan suddenly gives up. The objections of the family members were particularly fierce. Untimely stubborn stubbornness was caused by countless mental quarrels or a mentor's word that woke me up: I ca n’t keep my eyes closed for fear of darkness.

Even if you don't see or hear, the darkness cannot disappear. People live forever and cannot always go around.

So I carried my backpack in the summer vacation, went to the medical institute to participate in the summer camp, went to see a wider world, smiled with my head beside the Oriental Pearl, and passed an umbrella across the West Lake Broken Bridge. In the library, I hurriedly consulted the literature, reviewed the materials, and repeatedly felt the taste of my thoughts on every hot night-to this day, nearly a year, more than 300 days and nights, I have never been able to return to that sheltered harbor Every time a careful inquiry comes from the phone, I miss the words on the tip of my tongue but I can't vomit. The stubbornness of young people always hurts and hurts others.

Maybe fate always cares for those who dare to face the world with wide eyes. At the moment when I was successfully sent to the medical institute and received a national scholarship, I suddenly realized that the threshold was already unconsciously busy at the beginning of the year. Settled. Maybe someone can't cross that hurdle for you, but when you see so many people pulling you forward, stretching out your hands, waiting for you with a smile on your face, your restless heart will always be calm.

Now I think of the tangle and pain and confusion of a year ago, as if it had crossed the centuries. There was only a faint regret in my mind-I was sorry that I was too stubborn to miss my reunion with my family, and I regret that I might leave in the future. Home-what an ordinary and warm word.

This stubbornness probably looks like my father. It was a man who lost two college entrance examinations and ran a dozen miles with his mother's body cold. After seeking fruit, he ran to Inner Mongolia alone to learn medicine. It was A father who disregarded others to use a needle to hang his dying young girl. It was a little old man who never called poor.

And the stubborn old man always likes to tease his young son, saying "the rent has expired, and I will live in a small black house without money", "I ca n’t play games after selling the computer", "I ca n’t afford the tuition fees" I ca n’t play with my friends. ”At first, the child pouted and refuted, and finally burst into tears under the eyes of his father ’s deliberate determination. He ran to me and began to drop tears.

"Sister, our family is not poor, right? Sister, I don't want to live in a small black room, I want to go to college."

I looked at the farce in tears and laughed, but turned red for some reason.

I don't know how to tell my young, ignorant brother, how his mother gave birth to his sister in the cold wind, and how to give birth to him when his family was in a difficult situation. His father injected many invisible tears into his daughter's countless needles on New Year's Eve nineteen years ago, and poured much hope into him. His parents may be ordinary, but never thought of giving up.

I do n’t know how to tell this child who is connected with my flesh. His sister had a torrential rain while worshiping his ancestors. It was the silent and proud cry of his fathers who had never met before. The vast and thick land was the root of his life. And in this land there are countless crowds who will extend his goodwill and warm hands to him.

But I want to tell this ignorant child that poverty has never been a stumbling block to his dream. His sister wanted to be a writer when she was young, and now she has published a book along the way. Poverty did not make her humble and timid, but made her more accumulated, mature, not afraid of challenges, and courageous to bear.

I even want to tell my dear brother that we have never lived in poverty. Maybe he doesn't know the ruthless change of the old and the new. Maybe he only knows that he can wear new clothes in the new year. Maybe he feels that the first round of the new year is the sun rising from the east, but in the warm and bright dawn, He already has the most precious thing in the world.

That was the love the world blessed him.

May it guide you through the thorns, may it lead you through the foggy forest, and move towards your dream.

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