This matter is related to me.

Gently stroking the already yellowed picture, the buried memory whirls, and the thoughts drift back to the worry-free time...

The blue sky, the clear water, the grass, the delicate flowers, the pleasant laughter echoed in the pure and peaceful mountains, and it lasted for a long time. There are busy people in the farmland, the leisurely footsteps of cattle and sheep in the fields, and the chasing of children in the fields, the life in the countryside is always so simple. Life on campus is always so colorful, isn't it? I remember that in that simple classroom, there was such a figure, and the wind and rain were on the blackboard to write down the future. There is always a warm smile on his face, and he likes to mingle with the children after class. But I don't like him, maybe because he always sings and still teaches us to sing, maybe he thinks his smile is fake, or listen to the other senior brothers and sisters who slandered him, in short It is inexplicable to hate him. I still remember once, I saw him holding the book slowly and slowly approaching the classroom. His eyes turned and turned, his eyes fell on a straw broom in the corner of the classroom, and then the thief smiled, then Union contractors, how long does it take for some teachers to see, some half cover the classroom door and then stabilize the door, while I stand on the desk, carefully put the broom on the door, and then everyone quickly ran back to their own The seat is sitting, waiting for the arrival of the teacher. When the teacher walked to the door and reached out and pushed the door, my heart hanged on the scorpion. My classmates and I stared nervously at the door. When the teacher pushed the door in, the broom fell over the teacher’s back and sent it to the ground. The sound is muffled. The students suddenly laughed, and the teacher bent over and picked up the grass broom on the floor. When they walked on the stage, they smiled helplessly at us: "It’s naughty, I know you are all good kids, right?" I glanced at me, and I was restless and endured the suffering of my heart and the teacher, and the teacher seemed to be waiting for something. When the classmates were quiet, I stood up with a bite of the toothbrush and looked at the teacher's eyes and said, "The teacher is sorry, this is related to me." When I finished, I was standing by the classmates. I am sorry to say up with the teacher. Then the teacher smiled gratifiedly and only said: "It’s still young and energetic." Since then, looking at the warm smile of the teacher on the stage, I unconsciously raised my mouth. Gently stroking the photo, looking up at the long blue sky, as if I saw the warm smile again, I heard that the tender one is related to me...

The third day: literary Fan Shuiyu