我的村庄和儿时美好时光（My village and my childhood）.docVIP

我的村庄和儿时美好时光（My village and my childhood） Small light rain Memories are like old wine, like honey. Sip gently and get drunk before you know it. . I was born in the countryside and grew up in the countryside. I asked my father why I was a rural man. My father replied, you should be proud that you were born in the country. Although I was still young, I didnt understand the meaning of my fathers words, but I saw the star light from my fathers eyes. Perhaps it is because the hour is young and ignorant, not knowing to cherish, perhaps the ordinary life of the village. I never felt the village special. As the years went by, I grew up to feel the warmth of my hometown and the warmth of my village. From the bustling town of return, I go in the familiar streets, looking at the familiar village folks, touch the familiar one tile a gravel, the emotion of a free and meet unconsciously. I suddenly feel like I want to cry. I think its the feeling of happiness. Every time I think of a home, as long as I close my eyes, everything in the village, a little bit, a little bit, all with my mind shaking off the dust of time, in my mind to show it. The mountains and rivers of the village Our village is close to the mountain. Because of the terrain, the village looks more like an island, and the village that rises above the surrounding villages is like the relationship between a child and a mother. The little village nestled gently to the foot of the mountain, as if a child were listening to her mother quietly. Mountains have no name. But what does a mountain have to do with a child who has nothing to worry about? We had not known how many times we had climbed up the hill, and walked on the mountain roads that were too familiar to us. Go sour jujube, go to the scorpion, go to play games. How many times have I looked down from the high mountainside, watching the shy hiding in the village under a great tree, and peeked out of a corner. That corner is my home. Our naughty children ran happily