The taste of growth

In the future, what will happen to my growth path, I don’t know. Perhaps there will be more sweetness and more suffering... but I don't care, I am not afraid. Because, this is growth. I started to cut the apple. The little knife moved in the hand and slid down a thin, curved skin, just like the path I grew up. When I was very young, I used to learn to cut apples, but the knife was in my hands but not so obedient in my mother's hands, just a messy scratch on the apple. But I still smile, laugh, and ambitious. Because my mother said that only when grown up can I cut apples. In my heart, cutting apples has become a symbol of growing up. But later - I cut my hand, and the pain suddenly came in. I didn't know how to control my emotions at the time, let alone talk about what was strong, and the tears came out and swayed on my face. One of the tears fell into my mouth. I think: Hey, grow up, how long it is, but how much I want to grow up! Looking at the messy scratches on the apple and the scars on my hands, I thought again: the taste of growth was as bitter as tears. I no longer touch the Apple knife, because I know that I am still small. Until that day, I rose to a grade, thinking in my heart: Is it growing up now? So the thoughts that have been stored in my heart for a long time have sprouted again, and I picked up the apple knife again. This time, I didn't cut my hand again, but because of my unskilledness, I also cut off a lot of apple meat while peeling. The rest, Jane is close to a nuclear. And I, in the apple core, took out a little sweetness... Now, I am not small. In countless attempts and exercises, the apple knife will no longer ignore my words, and the apples that are cut out will no longer be embarrassed. Every time, I will cut long skins, and the apples will retain their original shape. Every time they cut apples, they will have a sweet taste in their mouths. Before I think about it, I will always laugh involuntarily. Even more gratifying is that I can also send my heart to others. When I handed the apple to my mother, I always got her smile. I laughed again, thinking: the taste of growth, it is as sweet as apples, as sweet as a smile. Back in the reality, the apple knife in my hand is still moving and moving. In fact, in the path of my growth, I have cut many "Apples" like this, and I have tasted how much like tears. Bitter and sweet like apples! The apple in my hand has only been cut in half. What will happen to the next half? I don't know; I will not know what my future growth path will be. Maybe there will be more sweetness and more suffering... But I don't care, I am not afraid. Because, this is growth.