Oliver's happy days

Because I have experienced so much suffering, the moment of happiness seems so precious!

Those who have no father, no mother, and no one to rely on are called orphans. Orphan Oliver was born in a workhouse, was abused and devastated from an early age, dressed all day in rags, starved, pale, and skinny, and even then he did not die, but was lucky to survive. Later, he was sent to the family of the funeral owner as an apprentice, but escaped because of the insults of the boss's two big apprentices and the boss's beating. After much hardship, he ran to London alive, only to fall into the den of thieves again, coerced by the thief Fagin and his gang, unable to get rid of their control and unable to live a normal life. Once you have a relationship with this group of thieves, you can't get rid of it. Only when Oliver's life was in danger did they abandon him. Then, when the thieves knew that Oliver was alive and well, they came again to pestering and persecuting Oliver to prevent him from being lucky and good. These experiences were a nightmare for Oliver, lingering and powerless to stop them. It wasn't until the gang of thieves was wiped out that Oliver's life ushered in the spring, otherwise his life would have been dark!

However, there are three moments of happiness in Oliver's tribulation, albeit briefly, but precious. The first time was the meticulous care he received in Mrs. Bedwin's house after he had a fever, which seemed to him to be heaven, and he was always grateful for it. The second time was the love and care he received after he crawled to Mrs. Mei Lai's house with an arm injury. The third time was the time he spent in the country house with Mrs. Mele and Miss Ruth.

What impressed me the most was the time when Oliver and Mrs. Mele and Miss Ruth were in the country house. The book reads:

After another two weeks, the weather has steadily improved and warmed up, every tree has pulled out its tender green leaves, and every cluster of flowers has spit out brilliant new buds; who can describe the joy and happiness that this weak child feels in the fragrant air of the inland countryside surrounded by green mountains and forests, and the peace and tranquility he enjoys? How these idyllic scenes are imprinted in the minds of people who are suffering from trapped in the city, and how to inject fresh air into their tired hearts, who can tell?

They came to such a lovely place. Oliver grew up in a scruffy crowd, in the midst of shouting and cursing, and now he seems to have started a new life. Roses and honeysuckles are next to the walls of the villa, ivy is coiled around the trunks, and the garden emits the fragrance of flowers. Nearby is a small church cemetery, where there are no tall and ugly tombstones, but there are inconspicuous graves covered with new grass and green moss, and the villagers have laid their sleep under them since they were ancient.

It was a happy time. The day is quiet and quiet, and the night brings no fear or worry: neither the bitterness of the prisoner nor the need to deal with the bad guys; only the thoughts of pleasure and happiness.

Every morning he went to an old white-haired gentleman who lived near the chapel and learned to read and write with him; the old gentleman spoke so kindly and taught him so carefully that Oliver felt that no matter how hard he tried to please him, he could not be excessive. Then he took a walk with Mrs. Merry and Luzi, listening to them talk about the books they had read; or to sit near them in a shady place and listen to the young lady read aloud; he would listen until it was so dark that he could not read the letters. But he had to prepare for the next day's homework, so he spent the afternoon in a small room facing the garden until the evening came. When the two ladies were about to go out for a walk again, he accompanied them as usual, listening to their conversation with relish; when they asked him to climb a flower, or to run to get a forgotten thing, he was eager to fly and do it, and felt infinite happiness. It was completely dark before they went home.

The young lady sat down at the piano and played a lovely piece of music, or sang an old ballad to her aunt in a soft bass. At such moments, candles are usually not lit; Oliver sits by a window sill, listening to beautiful music.

Sunday is here! Spending Sunday here was very different from the way he had spent Sunday before, and it was very happy, just like any other day in that happiest time. In the morning, I went to the chapel to worship, the green leaves outside the window were chirping, the birds were singing in the branches, and the rich air sneaked into the low porch, making this simple church full of fragrance. The poor people were also neatly dressed, and their kneeling and praying look was so pious that it was as if they were gathered here not to fulfill their boring duties, but to have fun. Although the singing of the poem may be rough, the sincerity of affection is at least more pleasant to Oliver's ears than he has ever heard in church. As usual, walks and visits to the neat homes of many workers were taken. In the evening, Oliver read again several chapters of the Bible that he had read intensively this week; in fulfilling this obligation, he felt more proud and proud than he had become pastor.

Around six o'clock in the morning, Oliver had gotten up and roamed the fields, searching through the hedges, often going far, collecting wildflowers everywhere to take home. He arranged the breakfast table with elaborate bouquets of flowers. Oliver also collects fresh dog tongue grass for Miss Merry's birds and decorates the birdcage with it, which looks extremely elegant—a craft he learned under the guidance of a well-taught church clerk in the village. When the caged birds were dressed up, Oliver was usually sent to the village to do a small act of kindness; otherwise, cricket was occasionally played on the grass; otherwise, there was work to be done in the garden at any time. Oliver also learned the art of tinkering with flowers and trees with his fellow teacher, whose profession was horticulture. He worked so diligently until Miss Luzi came into the garden. At that time, she always praised and praised everything he did.

Three months passed unconsciously. These three months are satisfactory even for the blessed people, and for Oliver, it is a paradise on earth. One side treats each other generously with the purest and most cordial attitude; the other side is deeply grateful with the most sincere and warm mood. It is no wonder that by the end of this short period, Oliver Retreat was as close as the old lady and Miss Luzi. Fierce love burned in his childish and sensitive heart, and they repaid him with affection and made him proud.

Because I also like this kind of life, I excerpted him.

After the fagin gang was captured, Oliver finally ended his suffering, became Mr. Browning's adopted son, and lived a life of a superior person. He did not live up to The expectations of Mr. Browning, studied hard, improved his self-cultivation, was grateful, became a noble man, and lived happily ever after.