When I was a child, I often walked on grassy mountain roads. Surrounded by lush forests, the roadside is tinkling springs, listening to cheerful birds and smelling all kinds of flowers, and occasionally meeting a few beautiful butterflies flying around, which is really pleasant.
I grew up drinking mountain springs. It is the massiness of this mountain that gives me infinite strength and courage, and it is also the purity of this spring that has washed away my already transparent heart.
So, one day, I set out with the unique simplicity of the little girl in the mountain village and began to look for my unique dream.
On the way to middle school, I can clearly see the awards of all the "three good students" in my primary school days, which are plastered all over the walls of my home, instead of New Year pictures. Ears, but also constantly echoed with parents' simple exhortations and all their hopes.
Finally, an unexpected miracle happened. It was on the eve of my junior high school graduation, because of bad luck, I didn't get the only four sets of comprehensive review white papers for senior high school entrance examination that our school finally got from the county. So, I have classes during the day and copy the contents of this white paper all night under a small oil lamp at night. After two nights in a row, I suddenly fell ill. At this time, the pre-selection of the senior high school entrance examination began. In the examination room, I was weak and dizzy, so I had to put my left arm on my head and my right hand barely answered the question, thinking: I really want to lose this time.
As soon as the results came out, all the teachers and students were shocked: I ranked fifth in the academic year and got full marks in my composition!
I still remember that the title of the composition was "When handing out papers". Many students failed or got zero points because of exam mistakes. They usually start writing as soon as they get the paper, until the bell rings. I wrote about the psychological process and real feelings from the moment when the test paper was handed out to the moment when I started answering questions. Obviously, I didn't lose this time, but I was influenced by my composition. Then, I vaguely felt that I might have some talent for writing.
I entered the county key high school and once went home on holiday. On the way back to school, it was raining lightly, and my mother always escorted me on the rugged mountain road. She took off her coat and put it on me. I didn't get wet by the rain. After getting on the bus and sitting down, I looked at my mother standing in the rain outside the window, only to get a big surprise: I saw my mother's hair tied into a lock and clung to her cheek. Rain drips down my hair, cheeks and chin, my clothes are wet, and my hanging hands are dripping, but my eyes are still staring at me and I keep asking, "Go to school and study with peace of mind ..." My eyes are full of tears. Through the vague tears, I can still clearly see my mother standing in the rain and looking at the car carrying me away. ...
This scene will be fixed in my memory forever. Back at school, I wrote this scene in my composition. The teacher read my article emotionally in class, and many students shed tears. Maybe from this time on, I fell in love with writing.
When I arrived at the university, my poems, prose poems and so on often appeared on the blackboard newspapers in classes, departments and schools, and some students stood in front of the blackboard and copied my small works. I still remember when I graduated from college, the class teacher wrote in my guest book: "You have spent your college life with the temperament of a poet. I hope you will hold your head high and move towards the highest realm of life."
Since then, a dream of becoming a poet and writer has grown in my heart and started. ...