Teacher Bai Luomei once wrote: "The light autumn wind and light rain have passed, and the streamers are thin and prosperous." Life is like water without end. Floating clouds blow snow, and the taste of the world is boiled into tea. I also recalled the events of the Tang and Song dynasties over the years, and I had a little cinnabar in my heart. Meet a thousand miles of negative smoke. The empty mountain people went far away and looked back at the plum blossoms. ”
Yes, it snowed heavily today. Someone in the circle of friends wrote: "The world is a mess, and you are clean, you can hang on my heart, do the sun and the moon." May everyone warm up with clothes and warm their hearts this winter, and all the good will come as scheduled. "The years do not dwell, the seasons are like a stream, going up against the current, transforming into a river." Not every road, there are people silently accompanied, not every problem, there are people in time to help, try to be their own sun, keep the love to run to the mountains and seas.
My friend told me such a true story, the National Day holiday, she helped in her sister's hotel. She began to clean the guest room, the door of the first guest room put a stool, there was a water basin on the stool, there were many coins in the basin, next to the basin, there was a towel, and there was tofu with a toothpick on the side of the towel, because it was a cameo, the friend did not dare to ask more, for fear that the sentence was not right, affecting the guest's meal, or a small waiter around him told him that this was "clear and white", there was a white thing in the house, the friend saw this scene and also had grief in his heart, and the face of the eater at the dinner was withered and he left the scene in a hurry. There is also a private room, the hostess came out to say to the friend, trouble you put this plate of conch on again, the friend is puzzled, the hostess said: "I will kiss the family today, everything pays attention to the even number, you are 7 conch, the friend will withdraw this disk, re-give a plate, specific a few, I don't know, but a few happy and a few sorrows!"
A sail paper boat flows with the stream, and a bead leaks with a light leaf to speak. The cold night, only lonely entanglement, lonely and lonely, the obstacle of heaven and man, the untouchable distance, can only let the mind penetrate to the place where she goes. In the bustling city, the dream outlines a homeland, and the bright moonlight drips out a nostalgia. The wild yellow, dyed with a piece of paper of thoughts, the scenery of the hometown overnight, as pale as snow frost. Don't indulge in fantasies, don't be dazed about the future, and keep the spring blossoms in your heart!