The drummer's wife went to church. She saw many portraits and new shrines carved with angels. The color images on the canvas, the hidden halo and the gold-plated painted wood carvings are all very beautiful. Their hair is as bright and beautiful as gold and sunshine; But God's sunshine is more beautiful. When the sun goes down, the light it emits from the tree is brighter and redder. It is very happy to look at God's face! The drummer's wife looked at the red sun, lost in thought; She thought of the baby the stork was going to give her. So she was very happy. She looked and looked. She wants her children to get glory from here, at least like angels on the altar wall. When she really put her arms around the child and held him in front of his father, the child really looked like an angel in the church. His hair is as bright as gold, and Hui Jin in the sunset falls in his hair.

"My Gymboree, my wealth, my sun!" Mother said and kissed his shiny curly hair. Her kiss was like music and singing in the drummer's room. The room is full of joy, anger and busyness. Drummers play drums, happy drums. The fire alarm drum sounded:

"Red hair, red hair kid! Trust me, don't trust your mother! Knock, knock, rumble! Hey! "

The whole city is talking about fire alarm.

The little boy went to church to be baptized. There's nothing to say about names. He was named Peter. The whole city, including drums, called him Peter, "the drummer's red-haired son"; But his mother kissed his red hair and called him Gymboree.

On rugged roads and slopes, many people carve their names as souvenirs.

"Make yourself famous," said the salesman. "It is always a big deal to make a name for yourself!" So he carved the names of himself and his youngest son.

Here comes the swallow. During the long journey, they saw more durable words engraved on the wall of Hindustan temple on the cliff: the great achievements of the powerful emperor and the immortal name. They are so old that no one can recognize them now, and I don't know their names.

But fame is far-reaching! Formidable

Swallows nest on the rugged cliff edge and peck holes on the soil slope. The wind, frost, rain and dew washed away the names, and so did the names of the drummers and their sons.

"But Peter's name stayed there for a year and a half after all!" Father said. "Stupid guy!" The fire drum thinks so, but it just says, "Knock, knock, knock! Hey! "

The drummer's red-haired son is a lively little boy. He has a beautiful voice. He can sing. He sings like a bird in the forest. It seems to be something, but it is nothing.

"He should join the choir!" Mother said, "Sing in the church and stand under those gilded angels who look as beautiful as him!" " "

"Red-haired cat!" ChengTou melon seeds smart man said. Drum heard it from the woman next door.

"Peter, don't go back!" Cried the children playing in the street. "If you sleep in the attic, the attic will catch fire and the fire alarm drum will ring."

"Watch out for the drumsticks!" Peter said. Young as he is, he is brave. He punched the nearest child in the stomach, and the child could not stand still and fell down. The other children crossed their legs and ran away.

The musician in this city is a decent and elegant person. He is the son of the royal man in charge of silverware. He likes Peter. Take him home and stay alone for a few hours. He gave him a violin and taught him to play it, just as Peter was born with ten musical fingers. He will certainly be more than a drummer in the future. He will become an urban musician.

"I want to be a soldier!" Peter said. Because he is just a nobody, he thinks that the best thing in the world is to carry a gun, walk "1212", wear a uniform and carry a broadsword.

"You have to learn to listen to drums! Boom, coming, coming! " The drums said. "Yes, he can be promoted step by step and become a general!" Father said; "But you must fight!"

"God bless not to fight!" Mom said.

"We have nothing to lose!" Father said.

"Yes, we will lose our children!" She said.

"But he will come back as a general!" Father said.

"I lost my arms and legs!" Mom said, "No, I want to make my Gymboree complete!" " "

"Dong! Knock on the door. Hey! " The fire alarm drums rang, all the drums rang and the war began. The soldier went to the front, followed by the drummer's son: "Red hair! Gymboree! " Mother cried; Father looked at him with the idea of "becoming famous"; The city musician thinks that he should stay at home and study music instead of going to war. "Red hair!" The soldiers shouted and Peter laughed. But if someone says, "fox skin!" He bit his lip and looked at the world. He ignored such abusive words.

The child is smart, brave and in a good mood. The veteran brothers all say that he is the best "military pot".

Many, many nights, he had to spend the night in the open air in the rain. However, he was still in a good mood and knocked with a drumstick: "Knock! Everybody get up! " Yes, he is obviously a born drummer.

This is a day in battle. The sun hasn't risen yet, but it's early morning. The air is cold, the fighting is fierce, and the sky is foggy, but the smell of gunpowder is stronger. Bullets and shells flew overhead, through the head, body and limbs, but everyone was still moving forward. Someone fell to his knees, bleeding at two o'clock and looking pale. The little drummer still kept a healthy color and was not hurt. He looked at the face of a dog in the group happily. The dog jumped up and down in front of him, very happy, as if all this was for fun, and bullets flew around to entertain them. "Forward, forward, forward!" These are the orders for the drums. These orders can't be withdrawn, but they can be withdrawn, which is very wise. So someone shouted, "Stand back!" But the little drummer knocked: "Forward, forward!" " "He knows that this is an order, and soldiers must obey the drums. This drum is well played, which encourages the soldiers who are ready to retreat to win.

In this battle, some people lost their lives and some people lost their limbs. The shells were blown to pieces, and the disabled soldiers dragged themselves to the haystack, trying to leave the war for several hours. The shells ignited the haystack, and these soldiers were likely to end their lives like this. It's no use thinking about it, but some people are thinking about it, even in that quiet city far away from here. Over there, the drummer and his wife think Peter is on the battlefield.

"I hate sighing!" The fire drum said.

Another day of fighting. The sun hasn't risen yet, but it's morning. The drummer and his wife are still sleeping, but they stayed up almost all night. They are talking about their son, who is outside-"resigned". Father dreamed that the war was over, all the soldiers went home, and Peter had a silver cross hanging on his chest. But my mother dreamed that she walked into the church and looked at portraits and angels carved with golden hair; Her dear son, her Gymboree, stood in the middle of angels in white. They are singing beautiful songs-obviously only angels can sing. He stood in the sun with them and nodded kindly to his mother.

"My Gymboree!" She let out a cry and woke up at once. "God took him away!" As she spoke, she put her hands together, hid her head in the curtain beside the bed and began to cry. "Where is he resting now? There are many people in that big hole dug for the dead? Maybe lying in the water deep in the swamp! No one knows his grave! No one has read the word of God for him! " So her lips silently cried out to God; She hung her head. She was too tired and fell asleep again.

Time flies, in people's lives and dreams!

One evening, a rainbow appeared on the battlefield, hanging on the edge of the forest and on the low-lying swamp. There is a saying in folklore: where the rainbow can reach, there are treasures buried under it, Gymboree. There is also a Gymboree under the rainbow. No one thought of the little drummer except his mother, so she dreamed of him. Time flies, in people's lives and dreams.

Not a hair on his head-a blonde hair-is damaged. "Knock, knock! That's him! That's him! " Drums can be said like this. If his mother saw him or dreamed of him, she would sing the same song.

After the war, everyone sang, cheered and went home with green branches. The dogs in the regiment strode ahead, as if to make way three times longer than usual.

Many days and weeks passed and Peter walked into his parents' house. He is as black as a savage, with bright eyes and bright face as the sun. Mother held him in her arms and kissed his mouth, his eyes and his red hair. She has a child of her own again. He didn't wear a silver cross on his chest as his father dreamed, but his limbs were intact, just as his mother dreamed. The whole family was jubilant, crying and laughing. Peter hugged the old fire drum.

"The old man is still there!" He said. Father plays the drums. "There seems to be a fire here!" The fire drum said. "The roof is on fire and the heart is burning, Gymboree! Card, card, card! "

What happened afterwards? Yeah, and then what? Just ask the city musicians!

"Peter is much more promising than drums!" He said. "Peter is much greater than me!" The city musician is the son of the royal who is in charge of silverware, but what he learned all his life, Peter learned in half a year.

He has a certain quality, very brave and noble. Eyes shining, hair shining.-No one can deny it.

"He should dye his hair!" The old aunt next door said. "The police's daughter dyed very well! She is engaged! "

"But, my hair will soon become like duckweed, and I have to dye it old!"

"She can dye it!" The aunt next door said, "Peter can afford it, too." He went to the most respectable family and even went to the mayor to teach Miss Lott to play the piano! "He can play! He can play the most beautiful music directly from his heart, which has not been written on the score so far. He plays in the bright night and also in the dark night. I can't stand it, neighbors and fire drums say so.

He played, so his thoughts sublimated and a great future plan emerged: becoming famous!

Miss Lott, the mayor, sat in front of the piano, her slender fingers jumping on the keys, and her voice reached Peter's heart. This voice is so attractive to Peter, and more than once. So one day, he immediately grabbed the delicate finger and the beautiful hand. He kissed her hand and looked at her big brown eyes. God knows what he said, the rest of us can only guess. Miss Lott's face flushed to the neck and shoulders, and she didn't answer him a word-just then, an outsider came into the room, the son of a third-class counselor. He has a broad flat forehead, and his head leans back, just like at the back of his neck. Peter sat with them for a long time, and Miss Lott looked at him tenderly. At home that night, he talked about the big world outside and the Gymboree hidden for him in the violin.

Become famous!

"Knock, knock!" The fire drum said. "Peter is completely crazy! I think the house is going to catch fire. "

The next day, my mother went to the market.

"Did you hear the news, Peter!" When she got home, she said, "Good news! Miss Lott of the mayor is engaged to the son of the third-class counselor. It was last night! "

"impossible!" As he spoke, he jumped up from his chair. But mom said it was true. She heard it from the barber's wife and her husband heard it from the mayor himself.

Peter's face turned white at once and he sat down again.

"God, what's wrong with you?" Mom said.

"Very well! Nothing! Leave me alone! " He said, tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Dear child! My Gymboree! " Mother said, and began to cry at the same time. But the fire drum sings-this is from the heart, not singing loudly:

"Lott finished! Lott is finished! " Yes, that song is over!

The song is not finished yet, and there are many lyrics left, the most beautiful word-Gymboree of life.

"She jumped about with joy, going crazy!" The old aunt next door said. "The whole world should read her Gymboree letter and listen to the newspaper reports about him and his violin. He sent her money, she needed it very much, and now she is a widow. "

"He plays for the emperor and the king!" The city musician said. "I'm not so lucky, but he is my student and won't forget his teacher." "My father had such a dream," my mother said, "that he came back from the battlefield with a silver cross on his chest. He didn't get it in the war. It seems hard to get in the war! Now he has received a knighthood. Father should really see this day! "

"Famous!" The fire drum said that the city where he was born also said, "the drummer's son, Peter with red hair;" They saw Peter wearing wooden shoes when he was a child; I met Peter who used to be a drummer and accompanied the dance. Famous! " "He worked for us before he worked for the king!" The mayor's wife said. "He likes Lott very much! He is always ambitious. He was so reckless and absurd at that time! Husband laughed for a while when he heard this ridiculous thing! Now Lott is the wife of a third-level counselor. "

That used to knock "forward, forward!" " When he was a little drummer. The poor boy who gives orders and gives courage to those who want to retire has implanted Gymboree in his heart. He has a Gymboree on his chest, which is the source of music. The spring water gurgled through the violin, like a complete organ, as if all the elves were dancing on the strings of the summer night. People heard the chirping of thrush birds and the clear voice of human beings; This voice rushed through people's hearts with joy and flew across countries with his name. This is a big fire, a big fire of joy and excitement.

"And he's cute!" Young ladies say so, even old women say so. Yes, the oldest woman also brought a souvenir clip to collect celebrities' hair, just to squeeze a handful from the young violinist's thick and beautiful hair, baby-Gymboree.

The son walked into the drummer's poor house, handsome as a prince and happy as a king. His eyes are very bright, and his face is like sunshine. He embraced his mother. She kissed his warm lips and cried happily, just like crying in joy. He nodded to every piece of old furniture in the house. Nod to the kitchen cabinet with cups and vases, and nod to the bench where he slept as a child. However, he dragged the old fire drum into the middle of the room and said to his mother and drum:

"Father will drum on occasions like today! Now I'm going to knock! " He played the drums, and the drums roared. The fire drum feels so glorious that the skin is cracked.

"How beautifully he did it!" The drum said, "Now I remember him forever! I think the old lady will burst into laughter because of her Gymboree. "

This is the story of Gymboree.

A person employed by the authorities to play drums in the street to announce government notices.