日新录（7月18日 晴）

 

图片发自App

      During the summer holiday forty years  ago,  parents took me back to my hometown. It was a very beautiful mountain village and I was curious about everything there. Every afternoon， I went to the stream nearby and played with my 8-year-old cousin.

      One afternoon， we went there again. I saw beautiful flowers smiling along the river banks， fish swimming in the water andbutterflies dancing among the flowers. Iwas so attracted by the beauty of nature there that I began picking flowers and chasing butterflies. However， my cousin seemed a little quiet. He sat on the bank “building”something with sand. I wanted to play a joke on him， so I walked quietly behind him and covered his eyes with my hands. He started to get up and we both fell to the ground. I laughed loudly， but to my surprise， my cousin seemed sad. With tears in his eyes， he murmured， “My school！ My school！”

      Suddenly I understood. My cousin was old enough to go to school， but he would haveto go to one several kilometers away. Hewished there had been a school in his own village. I felt sorry. What could I do？

      Seven days passed before I knew it. Though I couldn’t tear myself away from the beautiful scenery there， what I will never forget is a little boy‘s wish in a small mountain village.