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Dear teacher, thank you for actively participating in the resource collection activity of the "Hello Teacher, Hello" APP! Before and after the Spring Festival, we have received more than 1,000 resources of teachers in different forms and themes, including poems, essays, videos, picture designs, photographic works, etc. We will select some excellent works from them, and before the APP is launched, they will be released successively through the WeChat public account of China Teachers Daily to entertain readers.
Country roads
Lei Mingzheng
Taixi Experimental School, Feicheng City, Shandong Province
The year is approaching, and at this time in the past, the silent nightclub is mixed with the sound of sporadic firecrackers, neither happy nor annoyed, feeling that this sound always has nothing to do with me. If it weren't for a paper ban, I would have forgotten how many years I hadn't let go of firecrackers. A lot of things are like this, and when you find that you are missing it in your life, it can really arouse your thoughts. Throughout the ages, firecrackers have been a frequent guest of the writers and inkers, as if they lack charm without it. I also looked at the poems I had written in the past, and I really found a lot of traces of it, although I didn't love it, I didn't hate it. On a whim, I wanted to give a word to the Year of the Tiger, but found that there was no foil for it, and this word was also less story.
When I was a child, I was afraid of the dark, and I always felt that the longest road was the country road shrouded in darkness, and the end of the country road was home. So, no matter how far that country road is, I always have to go on, rain or shine. The first half of the road also has small friends to go with, and the second half can only go in the dark by myself, so I always complain about the distance from home, and even ask my friends to change the route, because the first stop of the other route is my home. Fortunately, my friends saw my predicament and would take care of me from time to time, but this route was too far around, so it was not changed frequently. When I go forward alone, although the fear of the night will increase, but at the same time I will be more sensitive to the direction of the road, so I can always go home in the dark. With the arrival of the waxing moon, firecrackers have become a common object in the hands of children, and in addition to firing, I have discovered other uses for it - to strengthen courage. When I was walking alone on that country road, if I was too scared, I would throw out a lit firecracker and let it scare off the things that I was afraid of in my bones.
As I get older, I know that those things that are frightening are just fears derived from my own heart. When I overcome my fears, it is time to leave my hometown and study far away. I once thought that I had learned to be strong in other places, but in fact, it was not, and the place that really made me hone my courage and perseverance was precisely the country road that made me afraid. Every time I return to my hometown, I always have to set foot on that country road again. However, the current road has long been illuminated. The country road in my memory has slowly become a luxury that I dream of going back. Walking on this country road again, I occasionally saw the figure of a few children, the light points in their hands flying in the night, and then heard a sound, breaking through the silent night, as if they had brought themselves back to that era. Or maybe there are adults passing by, scolding them, they are not annoyed, but they disappear into the night with a giggle, and in the deeper part of the night, there is another sound...
The township road is an indelible monument to the hometown and a sacred place for the wandering souls. At its end, it is the mark of growth, a faint nostalgia, and a hymn of life! Whenever I go to it, wherever I am, because I know that when I think of it, it is spring...
Kiss your hometown
Huang Yimin
Xingzhiwai Chinese Primary School, Panyu District, Guangzhou City, Guangdong Province
Only in my hometown did I dare to breathe heavily.
I can't forget the green of my hometown.
The road is lined with rows of sycamore branches, the sun filters through the leaf cracks, and people walk under the trees, feeling cool and bright. The fork in the road leading to the village is overgrown with bushes, and all man-made facilities are vigorously clustered, "Don't cut it." "Every time I go back, I meditate. The small mountain village where I was born is embraced by rolling dark green hills.
The small mountain village is located on the hillside, and my home is at the very bottom of the village. Mom and Dad's choice is really wise, if you want to see the view, the location of my home is really the best, but the scenery in front of the door, unobstructed. Father deserves to be a poetic man. In front of the house, the mountains are far away, and the green garden is vast. Lotus leaves, rice ears, peppers, eight melons, watermelons, pumpkins... Growing freely in all directions, branches and branches, blending into each other. Looking out, yingying is green, so rich in green, yellow-green, light green, emerald green, green... Good envy of the summer magic, green weather, different plants are painted with different greens. Behind the house is someone else's house, the back of my house was originally the school playground, and now the owner who bought it planted a neem forest, the trunk is only thick, but the branches and leaves have grown into a pergola, becoming a natural curtain on the first and second floors of my house.
Can't forget those familiar smells.
Walking through the fields, the fragrance of clear grass overflows the lungs. I wake up every day with the smell. At night, my mother always kept dried dried vegetables in my bedroom - because it was close to the balcony. Sometimes it's the mother's dried spicy seeds. The smell is thick and sunlight-filled, and it also tastes like Chinese medicine. I always feel that breathing more can regulate the internal organs, like Chinese medicine. Sometimes it's dried beans. Put the picked tender beans in the sun for a while, sprinkle salt and rub them evenly in the evening, let them sit overnight, leave them to the sun the next day, dry for a few days, and dry them. Every time I smell this unheated pickle, the appetite is immediately aroused. Sometimes it's dried pumpkin. Cut the fresh pumpkin into 5 cm squares, cut out a trail of traces, like Akita, then dry for two days, then steam, salt and marinate for one night, after which it is still left to the sun to dry. The dried pumpkin was spread on the balcony, and I woke up with its warm smell during my nap, and then I always had to go close and smell it carefully, but it was not enough to smell it.
How can you forget that starry sky!
If Zhang Heng had been born in a modern city, there might not have been a "child counting stars" - no need to count, who can see a few at a glance. If you stumble upon one or two stars in the city that are blinking, you will be surprised. The cage that has lived in the city for a long time yearns for the clear sky. On summer nights, the sky in my hometown is clear and clean, and every time I look up, I seem to be able to see the whole vast universe. Stars sprinkled all over the canopy, shining like diamonds— schoolchildren can go to the countryside to experience a cliché that is not really understood. The moon seems to be very close to my hometown, clear as a wash, the brightest Venus seems to be within reach, with their company, what loneliness is there on earth? I used to do nothing, lying on the railing and watching the stars, and I wasn't addicted to the night.
Every winter vacation and summer vacation, I will stay in my hometown for at least half a month and enjoy a pastoral life of "returning to nature"...
Every straw is the last nostalgia
(Outer one)
Xie Guichong
Luyi Primary School, Huoshui Township, Luliang County, Yunnan Province
Every straw is the last nostalgia
I grabbed the last straw,
The straw is soft and tough,
Its roots, left in the rice fields,
Its ears of rice do not have a single grain left.
I grabbed the last straw,
Not in the river of despair,
Not in a dangerous situation,
Nor in the rice fields after harvest.
When all the straw is gone,
I take the precious straw as a precious memorial,
Years from now, I'll point to the great Luliang Dam,
Tell my child,
No, here, once the land of fish and rice,
No, this is its testimony.
Every bird song is also the last nostalgia
To find a mountain,
Preferably in the morning,
It's not yet light, and the fog is still thick.
There are no footprints of forerunners on the ground.
Be a forerunner, along the way, the sound of birdsong,
Along the way, bursts of flowers bloom.
To find a tree,
Preferably a person,
Unkempt, dirty feet,
The branches and leaves of the body have not been deleted,
In the most natural posture, facing a tree,
Face a most complete tree.
I stared at the village farther and farther away,
Quietly put the birdsong of the hometown,
Slip into your pocket.
Source | China Teachers Daily
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