How to answer the small pen after class in the fourth grade volume "The Bridge of Life Across the Strait"
Life is as hurried as water facing eastward and cannot stop. The world is so busy that people are overwhelmed, and it is even impossible to calmly appreciate and reflect on the scenery on the roadside. Regarding bridges, except for impromptu tours and viewings, I have almost never paid attention to the existence of ordinary bridges.
In fact, the Bridge of Life is everywhere and at all times. Visible and intangible, it is the bridge that supports footsteps, the bridge that continues the future when there is no way out, the bridge that holds up hope on the cliff, the bridge that connects shortcuts in times of emergency... They extend the span of life and also Expands the breadth of life.
If there really is a Buddha who saves the world, I think those bridges and the people who built them must be related to Buddha. In fact, everyone's life is a history connected by bridges. When I was born, my mother delivered her baby on a Tukang. My mother’s hand that cut the umbilical cord was the first bridge for me to enter the world. When I was ignorant, my eldest sister carried me to do housework on her back. It is a moving bridge, and it is the bridge that carried me through my sickly childhood. After my father passed away, I once stood on the small earthen bridge he built with his own hands and burst into tears. When I was a child, I was timid and could only walk on that earthen bridge. Climbing around, my father kept looking at me until he saw me running back and forth across the bridge. My father’s eyes were to support me towards the bridge of independence. On the roadside when I was in junior high school after school, Grandpa Jin and Grandma Jin Light a small lamp every night to give me courage and send me home. It is the bridge that frees me from fear and gives me the light and warmth of humanity; when my father passed away and my mother was seriously ill and I was about to drop out of school, Teacher Zhou supported me. I came out of my grief and pulled me back to class. She built a bridge of will in my heart; when I was about to give up on taking the unified examination because I had no travel expenses, Teacher Gong found a truck for me to take me to the exam. The bridges to the future that were built for me with love on the desperate road... I can’t count how many bridges have brought me to this day.
After enjoying the bridges built by others, I have also become accustomed to building bridges for myself when there is no way to go. I still remember one morning when it rained heavily when I was in the first grade of junior high school. The small bridge I had to cross was broken by the flood. I looked at the tops of the small trees by the river, swaying helplessly and struggling in the rough water like the little hands of a child against the current. At that moment, how much I wanted to escape, but behind me there was my mother's expectant eyes, and in front of me there was the teacher's calling eyes... I ran home, found a few hemp ropes, connected them, and tied them to a tree by the river. Then I grabbed the hemp rope, walked into the chest-deep water, and finally walked to the other side. That rope was the first bridge I built for myself.
After enjoying the human bridge, what can I use to repay the world? This is a question I occasionally ask myself. I have worked in a hospital for more than ten years. At that time, I thought that I was a small bridge between the cliffs of life. If I were to be such a bridge, a life would fall down and never come back if it was shaken or neglected. Therefore, I used my hands to Hold on to your conscience and warn yourself not to slack off! Similarly, when the many lives I saved smiled at me, I felt that I was bathing in the brightest sunshine in the world. I thought happily and proudly: I am a bridge connecting life, I am a bridge leading to health. bridge!
If you think about it carefully, all the material and spiritual civilizations that history has reached today have existed on the bridges built by our predecessors.
Later, some people built a pressurized water well in their own yard, which was convenient, fast and labor-saving. The well gradually became idle, dried up, and became clogged. The water died, the well died, and the eyes of the village disappeared.
When dusk comes every day, the rare sunshine in winter passes through the long corridor in the dormitory building as usual, reaching the depths of the corridor that the sun never reaches on weekdays. The corridor was filled with the bloody sunset. The smooth tile floor reflected the sunlight into my eyes, making them red. The warm sunlight stung my eyes, making me feel sad.
I stood in the sunshine, silently watching the sunset on the horizon, thinking about some sad past events. The sunshine stretches my shadow very long, I don’t know if it can outlast my thoughts.
The lonely sunset gradually converged its brilliance, and finally turned into a big blood-red ball hanging on the horizon. In the sky, there are two returning birds, flapping their wings lonely.
The sunlight in the corridor slowly recedes like the ebbing sea water. When the smell of sunlight dissipates in the cold winter air, the setting sun also quietly hides in the shadow of the tall building.
One day passed so quietly, and the feeling of distress surged in my chest like rolling sea water. Those past events that I didn’t want to touch for many years slowly unfolded in the last ray of sunset.
Many years ago, I held your hand and watched the sunset; many years ago, I liked to carry my schoolbag and recite loudly in the morning sun: "Get up in the morning and face the sun. In front of you is the east and behind you is the west." .... "Many years ago, I liked to stand on the top of a hill and play a bamboo flute against the sunset.
The sky is getting darker, and my face can no longer be seen in the darkness. I touch my face and there is no trace of moisture. I have not shed tears for many years. I smiled lightly, remembering what you said to me many years ago: "When you laugh, it is when your heart hurts the most; when you stand among the crowd, it is when you are loneliest."
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