Reading "Old Things in the South of the City"

A drop of water can refract the brilliance of the sun; a good book can purify a person's beautiful heart. In the depths of my heart, there used to be such a book, which reflected the sun in my heart like a drop of water. Let me introduce the contents of this book: "Old Things in the South." The author of this book is Lin Haiyin, who uses his young mind to describe his happy childhood in the south of Beijing. The book is accompanied by photographs and pictures, which makes people feel the deep meaning of the word "old": the fragments of the ancient city, the drooping branches of Da Ke, the dead leaves remaining in Wallonia, the old shops in the street are painted The size of the door, the latch of the half-yard door, and the flower pot on the roof and the winter snow on the wall of the Imperial City...

Perhaps childhood is the beginning of memory and a symbol of dreams. It represents the memory of the age of innocence after the vicissitudes of life. Childhood! It is the truth in the dream, the dream in the real, the smile with tears in the memory. Reading "The Old Things in the South of the City", I gradually approached the book and watched the happy childhood that Yingzi spent in the south of the city. They were like a stream of quiet, slowly infiltrating into my mind: slowly Camel team, Hui'an Hall, Hutong's well, downtown, and grasshoppers, the characters that emerged in these places: the camel team under the winter sun, the little partner girl at the wellside, the mad woman in the Hui'an Pavilion - Xiu Yan, hiding The thief in the grasshopper, the Lancome who smiled in the grass, the uncle who ignored us, the Song Ma who accompanied me and the father who died in the lungs, all built a deep relationship with "I". The feelings are not built overnight, but they all disappeared in the steps of the years. Childhood dreams, suddenly broken. It can be said that every moment of childhood is an important passage of a person.

In contrast, although my childhood was carefree, Yingzi’s childhood was very exciting. Her childhood was dramatic, but it was very real and simple, so pure and indifferent.

When I read the crazy women playing in Yingzi and Hui'an, I was really worried about whether Xiuyan would do anything to hurt Yingzi. When I saw that Yingzi knew that her good partner girl was Xiu's daughter, Yingzi not only helped. Their mother and daughter re-sewed, and gave their birthday present, the diamond watch and the mother's golden bracelet, to them as a entanglement to find Si Kang. At this moment, I am not proud of Yingzi. A six-year-old child knows friendship and knows love. This is probably a kind of power from life that encourages her to grow up! Reading and reading, my heart is sometimes scared and sometimes relaxed. I find it very strange: Isn't Yingzi not afraid of Xiuyan? In the end, I realized that her childhood was wonderful because she had a pure and clean heart. It was she who had this heart that her childhood was happy. That is real, carefree, and uncompromising. The happiness of the world is nothing but money and reputation.

It can be said that her thoughts shine like gold, pure as agate, transparent like crystal, and bright like peony. The masters of our 21st century, with the development of science and technology, have become more and more complicated. The Internet has eroded the soul of our brains, making us not happy like the English, and childhood is in the shadow of time. Disappeared. Perhaps childhood is poor and rich, so that the person who thinks can be the poor duke, the ignorant wise, the richest poor, and the low-cultural workers.

Because I am going to sixth grade, I will be at the crossroads of childhood, I will say goodbye to my childhood, set foot on the wooden boat of life, and feel the memory of Ms. Lin Haiyin's childhood. Isn’t everyone’s childhood so sacred and sacred?

This "Old City in the South" is like a breeze in Xia Langli. Let me know not to miss my childhood. I will thank you for opening the flowers. The sun will climb up tomorrow, my childhood will be gone, my youth. The bird will not come back...

Fourth grade: Time is called unintentional