: teapot
Once upon a time, there was a proud teapot. It is proud of its porcelain, long mouth and big handle. There's something in front and back! There is a spout in front and a handle in the back. It always talks about these things. But it didn't talk about its lid. It turned out that the lid had been broken long ago, and then it was nailed; So it has a disadvantage. People don't like to talk about their own shortcomings-of course, others also talk about it.
Cups, cream cans, sugar bowls-the whole tea set-all clearly remember the weakness of the teapot lid. I'm talking more about it than the perfect handle and beautiful spout. The teapot knows this.
"I know them!" It said to itself, "I also know my shortcomings, I admit it." This is enough to show my modesty and simplicity. We all have shortcomings; But we also have advantages. The cup has a handle and the sugar bowl has a lid. I have both, and they don't have one. I have a spout; This makes me the queen on the coffee table. Sugar bowls and cream cans are appointed as sweet servants, and I am the appointee-everyone's master. I spread happiness to those who are thirsty. In my body, China's tea leaves exude fragrance in tasteless boiling water. "
This sentence was said by the teapot in its fearless youth. It stood on the tea table covered with tablecloth, and a very * * * hand opened its lid. But it's very clumsy. The teapot fell, the spout was broken and the handle was broken. There is no need to talk about the lid, because a lot has been said about him.
The teapot lay on the ground and fainted; Boiling water dripped all over the floor. This is a serious blow to it, and the worst thing is that everyone laughs at it. Everyone just laughed at it, not at this clumsy hand.
"I will never forget this experience!" The teapot later said when looking at his life's career. "People call me a patient and push me into a corner; A day later, people sent me to a woman begging for leftovers. I fell into poverty; Inside and out, I won't say a word. However, at this time, my life began to improve. An old frontiersman loses his horse—a blessing in disguise. My body is full of dirt; For a teapot, this is completely equivalent to burial. But a flower root was buried in the soil. I don't know who put it in or who brought it. But since it was put in, it finally made up for the loss of tea and boiled water in China, and it was also a reward for breaking the handle and spout. The root of this flower lies in the soil, in my body, and it has become my heart, a living heart-I have never seen such a thing. I have life, strength and spirit now. The pulse is beating, the flower roots are sprouting, and there are thoughts and feelings. It blossomed into a flower. I saw it, I supported it, I forgot myself in its beauty. Forget yourself for others-this is a happy thing! It didn't thank me; It didn't think of me; Be admired and praised by people. I feel very happy; How happy it would be! One day I heard someone say that it should have a better flowerpot to match. So people hit me on the waist; I was really in pain! But the flowers moved to a better flowerpot. As for me? I was thrown into the yard. I lay there like a pile of fragments-but my memory is still there and I can't forget it. "
: a silent book
There is a lonely farm in the forest beside the road. People can walk all the way along the road to the big yard of this farmhouse. The sun shines here; All the windows are open.
Inside the house is a busy voice; But in the yard, under a gazebo composed of blooming lilacs, there is an open coffin. A dead man has been lying in it and will be buried this morning. No one kept the coffin to mourn the dead; No one shed tears for him His face was covered with a piece of white cloth, and a thick book was under his head. This page is made of a whole piece of gray paper; There is a forgotten withered flower on every page.
This is a complete plant specimen, collected in many different places. It will be buried with the dead, because it is his will. Every flower is associated with a chapter in his life.
"Who is the deceased?" We asked.
The answer is: "He is an old student in Usara * * * Note: Usara is an ancient university in Sweden. There are often some students here who have not graduated. ***。 People say: he used to be a lively young man; He knows ancient literature, sings and even writes poems. But because of his accident, he immersed his mind and life in soju. He moved to this country when his health was finally destroyed by alcohol. He was provided with room and board. As long as the gloomy mood doesn't attack him, he is as pure as a child, because then he becomes very lively and runs around the forest like a chased stag. However, as long as we call him home and show him this book full of dried plants, he can sit all day, watching this plant for a while and that plant for a while. Sometimes his tears will run down his cheeks: only God knows what he is thinking! But he asked to put the book in his coffin. So now it lies there, and soon the lid of the coffin will be nailed, and then he will get his rest in the grave. "
His veil was lifted. There was a calm expression on the victim's face. A ray of sunshine shines on it. A swallow flew into the pavilion like an arrow, quickly turned around and mumbled something on the dead man's head.
As we all know, what a strange feeling it would be if we read the old letters of our youth! The whole life and the hopes and sorrows of this life will emerge. How many people we were close to at that time have died now! However, they are still alive, but we haven't thought of them for a long time. At that time, we thought that we would always live closely with them and share joys and sorrows with them.
There is a withered oak leaf in this book. It reminds the owner of this book of an old friend-an old classmate and a lifelong friend. He put this leaf in a student's hat in a green forest, and they became "lifelong" friends from then on. Where does he live now? This leaf has been saved, but friendship has been forgotten!
This is an exotic plant cultivated in a greenhouse; It is too exquisite for the gardens in the north; Its leaves seem to retain its fragrance. It was picked by a lady in a noble garden and given to him.
This is a water lily. He picked it with his own hands and wet it with his salty tears-this is a water lily growing in sweet water.
Here is a nettle-what does its leaf say? What was he thinking when he picked it up and stored it?
Here is a lily of the valley living in the forest; Here is a honeysuckle flower picked from a hotel flowerpot; This is a sharp blade of grass!
The blooming lilacs gently hung their fresh and fragrant flowers on the head of the dead. Swallows are flying again. "haw! Hey! " Then people came with nails and hammers. The coffin covered the dead man-his head rested on the silent book. Buried-forgot!
: angel
"As long as a good boy dies, there will be an angel of God coming to earth. He held the dead child in his arms, spread his big white wings and flew to the place where the child loved to go before his death. He picked a handful of flowers. Take them to the sky and let them bloom more beautiful flowers than on the earth. The kind God held these flowers tightly to his chest, but he only kissed the most lovely one he thought. This flower then has a voice and can sing happy carols with everyone. "
Listen, this is what the angel of God said when he took a dead child to heaven. When children hear these words, it is like dreaming. They flew over many places where he had played at home and over gardens full of beautiful flowers.
"Which flower should we plant in the sky?" Angel asked.
They saw a slender and beautiful rose, but its pedicel was cut off by an evil hand. Therefore, its branches, covered with half-opened buds, hung down and withered.
"Poor Rose!" The child said. "Take it away. It can bloom in front of God! "
Angel took the flowers and kissed the child. The child half opened his eyes. They picked some beautiful flowers, but they also took away some despised Jin Fenghua and wild pansies.
"Now we have flowers." The child said. Angels nodded, but they didn't fly into the sky.
It's night and it's very quiet. They stay in this big city. They flew in the narrowest street. There is a lot of hay, dust and rubbish in the street, because it is a moving day. There are also broken dishes, mud falling from the wall, rags and broken hats-these are not very beautiful.
In the middle of this pile of rubbish, Angel pointed to some flowerpots and a lump of dry mud falling out of them. A withered wild flower tied itself to this mound with its roots. This flower is useless now, so it was thrown into the street.
"We're going to take this flower away!" Angel said, "I'll tell you why when I fly."
So they flew away. The angel told such a story:
"In a very low basement in the narrow street below, there lived a poor sick child. He has been lying in bed since he was very young. When he is in the best health, he can walk back and forth in that small room once or twice with crutches. That's all he can do. Every summer, sunlight can enter the front room of this basement for a few days, about half an hour at a time. When the child sat there and let the warm sunshine shine on him, he put his thin fingers in front of him and looked at the bright red blood inside. Then people say,' The baby came out today.'
"His understanding of the forest comes from the green in spring. Because the child next door brought him the first green beech branch. He held it on his head and imagined himself in a beech forest-the sun shone in and the birds were singing.
"One spring, the children next door brought him some wild flowers. Occasionally, one of these wild flowers has roots. So the flower quilt was planted in a flowerpot and placed beside the bed, next to the window. This flower was planted by a lucky hand, so it grows, sprouts and blooms every year, becoming the most beautiful garden for sick children-a treasure house in the world. He watered it, took care of it, and tried to make it get every ray of sunshine from this low window.
"This flower often comes to his dreams because it blooms for him, gives him fragrance and makes his eyes * * *. When God called him, the last thing he wanted to see before he died was this flower.
"Now he has lived in the sky for a year. This year, this flower was completely forgotten by the window. It has withered, so it was thrown into the garbage in the street when it moved. We now put this poor, withered flower in our bouquet because it gives people more happiness than the most gorgeous flower in the royal garden. "
"How do you know this?" Asked the child brought to heaven by the angel.
"Of course I know," Angel said, "because I am the sick child who walks on crutches! Of course I know my flowers! "
The child opened his big eyes and stared at the angel's beautiful and happy face. At that time, they came to heaven, a peaceful and happy paradise. God held the child tightly to his chest, but he kissed the poor withered wild flower. So wildflowers have sounds. Now it can sing with other angels and fly around them-some fly very close, some fly in a big circle, far away, but they are all very happy.
They all sang songs-kind and happy children, big and small, and poor withered wild flowers that were thrown on the garbage in the narrow alley on the day of moving. Everyone sang a song.