Before, I always thought I still had a little youthful tail in my hand, but at this moment I felt that I was suddenly aging. Christmas Eve is burning with many young faces and my fantasy of youth. The street lights I used to be familiar with are now brightly illuminated by all kinds of neon lights. Bustling people and cars are ringing in front of my eyes, and more businessmen are contributing to the colorful hype. All this seems to herald the arrival of heaven. In fact, the paradise I coveted at the beginning was completely different. In the dilapidated classroom in remote rural areas, the teacher's forceful chalk words flashed on the blackboard: Chairman Mao waved his hand to show the way, and capitalism is heaven. When I was young, I was obsessed with the teacher's broad and empty description, so I used my narrow thinking to imagine the prosperity of capitalism: living in tall buildings, taking asphalt roads, wearing leather shoes and formal clothes, going to Beijing by train to see Chairman Mao, watching Tiananmen Square and eating steamed bread with soy sauce every day, especially this last point, which made me swallow my mouth with excitement. Later, I learned that West Renye Fang speaks of heaven. Although the names of the words are the same, their connotations are quite different. I am not interested in foreign festivals, but I am helpless. I have to attend the activities arranged by a wedding company, which has a cooperative relationship with my unit on Christmas Eve. It was very lively, chaotic and annoying, and I hurried home soon after the beginning. I think this is a way for young people to consume hormones, which is not to their taste. But after returning to China, it has been difficult to calm down, and I feel that heaven is too illusory and too far away. But in my boring thoughts, I suddenly feel that heaven is very practical, because there are several of my classmates there. Therefore, they have a worry: Are they all right in heaven on Christmas Eve? Of course, some relatives and friends died in heaven. Today, I pay special attention to my classmates because they are not old enough to enter heaven according to physiological standards. But I can only laugh at my helplessness with a very rustic proverb: there is no difference between old and young on the road to death. Among these students, Li Jun, a female classmate, was the first to enter heaven. It was a criminal explosion on September 7, 1987/KLOC-0, which brought me great shock: Li Jun, a female classmate of my normal college, died unfortunately in the explosion. She was innocent. She was forced to go to heaven with four adults and the twins who were about to give birth in Li Jun's womb. She wears three hats. When I was studying in Teachers College, Li Jun and I were in the same class and group. I was the team leader. At that time, it was still relatively closed and young. Although we are a group, we seldom communicate and talk except what to say when handing out meal tickets and grants. She is not tall, wears two braids, walks with big steps, and is quiet, robust, simple and low-key. This is my impression of Li Jun Teachers College. After graduation, I returned to the rural middle school in my hometown. She and two female students in our class stayed in this middle school in the city. I haven't seen you once since graduation, and I won't see you again. The explosion shook the whole country. The daughter of a teacher in her school eloped with an unemployed young man in Zhengding County, Shijiazhuang. The man's family condition is poor, and he is not very good to the girl. The woman's parents don't agree, and the daughter won't let her and the man return to Zhengding after she comes back. Young men can't find a girl, so they go to the school where the girl's father is. Stalemate, quarrel, hysteria, finally the man took an extra-large explosive bag and made an end, and the teaching building collapsed by half. It is said that Li Jun has walked out of the building. When he came back to get what he left in the office, the explosive device rang. What a coincidence. Later, Li Jun became the heaviest topic at our class reunion, sighing, being sad and crying. According to common sense, the growth of age is directly proportional to the distance from heaven. Near middle age, heaven has gradually revealed its ferocious mast in the sea of life from the foggy Haicheng, and it is getting closer and closer. Therefore, we have too many topics and sighs. Zhang Qingyu used to be the topic of my high school reunion. Zhang Qingyu is one of my best classmates in high school. He is smart, kind and handsome. The first college entrance examination, admitted to the regional financial school. It took me a year to repeat my studies before I jumped out of the farm. Coincidentally, my normal college is just across the street from his finance college. School started that night, and I heard that I was admitted to the Teachers College. Zhang Qingyu and my other good classmate, Li Jinxing, go to the Teachers College almost every day to ask when the freshmen will report for duty. After graduation, the grain depot where he worked was separated from the middle school where I worked. We are all born in poverty, classmates of the same age, all love literature and history, and there are endless topics to talk about every day. Every day, either he comes to school to find me, or I go to the grain depot to find him, almost inseparable, sometimes chatting late into the night, either I live in his dormitory or he lives in my dormitory. We all left town from 65438 to 0984. Later, I was admitted to Handan Radio Station, and he was transferred to the county finance bureau. Although we don't work in the same place, we can always meet during the Spring Festival holiday. Later, he had a mental problem. The direct reason is the object, and the deep reason is from his family. His family is poor, and his two younger brothers are on a par. He is a man with a strong sense of responsibility. He once told me that he wouldn't get married until his two younger brothers got married, because it was not easy for his parents to provide him with schooling, and he couldn't bear to make his parents tired again. However, two younger brothers who are farmers have to build five tile-roofed houses before they can marry their daughters-in-law. This is the necessary hardware for rural young men to get married, which is quite difficult for a poor farmer. Celebrate Yu Sheng scrimped and saved for several years, and finally built a house for his eldest brother. At this time, his other half was tired of the long-distance running of love and broke up with him. Introverted Qingyu is hard to accept, so she is confused and can't be cured for a long time. Later, I couldn't work normally and went back to my hometown to recuperate. In the autumn of 2002, I came to Handan in rags, but I was turned away by the past. When I came back from the interview, the doorpost told me that there was a psycho looking for you. Seeing the familiar word "Zhang Qingyu" in the register, I was so angry that I forgot to get angry and went straight to the East Bus Station. However, I didn't see my good brother Zhang Qingyu. A few days later, the bad news that he hanged himself came from his hometown. I have been indifferent to heaven and have been worried ever since. The first day of the tenth lunar month is a ghost festival in rural customs. This year, after I went back to my hometown to burn paper for my mother, I made a detour to Qingyu. Qingwen's earth grave looks lonely and pitiful in the open field. When I walked to his grave, there was a scrap of paper. I turned my head and saw a white-haired old man coming to the village. I know, that's Qingyu's mother. I want to go after her, talk to her old man or give her some money. But I dare not move my steps. I'm afraid to make the old man sad. I can entrust others to take money later, but I'm even more sorry for Qingyu, because it hurts my health. There are only lonely me and lonely Qingyu in the field, but brothers are close at hand but relatively hard to say. A cold wind blew, and my tears spilled on Qingyu's grave, silently shouting: Qingyu, my good brother, look at you. The other three students have gone to heaven in high school. They are Li Heshun, Shi Fenliang and Yang Baoyu. Li Heshun and Shi Fenliang were both involved in car accidents. As soon as I went to high school, Zhang Qingyu and Li Heshun and I were in Class 8. After half a year, Shi Fenliang transferred to another school. Li Heshun and Shi Fenliang's academic performance is not very good, and they both know their family background, so they went home to farm without taking the college entrance examination. Li Heshun later worked in Handan. We contacted several times by phone. First he drives a truck for others, and then he goes it alone. He got married early and has three sons and two daughters. On the phone, he said, I must work hard to earn money, otherwise I can't support this family. Later I heard that something had happened to him. In fact, he died unjustly. In order to earn more money by pulling goods, he slept in the car at night and parked on the side of the road. I was accidentally hit by another tired driver in the middle of the night. Li Heshun went to heaven in such a muddle. When he was in high school, Shi Fenliang's family conditions were as bad as mine. After marriage, he has three children, and he has to work to earn money during the slack season. He worked in Handan before the accident. In order to save five or six yuan for the ticket, he rode home 100 miles to help with the autumn harvest. Maybe he was in a hurry. He held the handlebar of his bicycle in one hand and the back of a speeding car in the other. I don't know if the driver played a trick on him on purpose or if the bike couldn't keep up with the speed. As a result, he fell on the road and was run over by another passing truck. People didn't recognize it at that time. Yang Baoyu was in Class 7, but later the school was divided into fast class and slow class, and we met in the fast class. He did well in his studies and later went to a normal school. Later, I went to work in the city, and there were few opportunities to meet. Even when we meet, we say hello in a hurry. This summer, I happened to meet my classmate Li Jinxing. When talking about my high school classmates, Venus told me that Yang Baoyu died of cancer a month ago. I was shocked after listening to it. Venus said Baoyu's school is the focus of the county. He is in charge. He has to deal with school affairs and attend classes. He is very nervous and busy, and he is very tired. Venus, who was reunited after such a long separation, excited me, but after hearing the news of Yang Baoyu, I felt heavy and managed to eat. These three high school students, Li Heshun, are lively and naughty. During self-study, they put stools on the aisle and sang the episode of the movie "Sparkling Red Star", "Little Bamboo Trip in the Middle Reaches of the River". They sang their hands while rowing, which made the students burst into laughter. The teacher quietly walked behind him from the back door of the classroom to check the order in the classroom. He is still rowing, and his cat is at his waist. His funny appearance made the teacher laugh. In class, Li Heshun either climbed onto the table to sleep or played tricks on his classmates. Shi Fenliang stutters a little, smiles when he opens his mouth, and always looks like an optimist. Yang Baoyu is introverted, quiet and quiet. He often sits motionless at his desk, and sometimes turns to watch naughty classmates play pranks. He laughed twice before continuing his business. In the humble campus, we used to sweat together, undress together, build toilets together, build walls together, run wildly on the playground together, study hard under oil lamps together, and talk about our ideals together under poplar trees. That scene seems to be yesterday, and it is still vivid, but now it is life and death. When people reach middle age, everything is over, and proverbs have become vicious curses. Abnormal death is spying on human beings at close range like pirates. According to the western point of view, God is the supreme master of mankind, and we are all subjects of God. I think, God should be equal and kind, and he will not end every life on earth prematurely. However, due to human factors such as violence, car accidents and epidemics, God has to redefine everyone's life destiny, and some people have to leave the world they don't want to leave, even though behind these people are the desperate white hair of their parents, the shrill call of their wives and children and the painful retention of their friends. When I was young, I had a narrow understanding of capitalism. It was a paradise on earth, and everything in the material world had already become a reality. I once bought a ticket and boarded the long-awaited Tiananmen Square, and I also met Chairman Mao, who I revered. But his old man stopped waving and smiling, but seriously lay in a crystal coffin and accepted my worship. Although I am bathed in material civilization and have all kinds of troubles, I am more and more afraid and confused about the concept of paradise in the west. It's not that I'm evil and afraid that God won't take my soul in. To tell the truth, I am timid, and I never dare to think or act rashly. I just feel that I am a layman, and I live in this world to match my identity. This is not only the result that the sunshine and rain of life moisten me, but also the result of deep-rooted oriental cultural psychology. After all kinds of setbacks, I learned to go with the flow. It was Zhang Qingyu's death that touched my soul numbed by the secular world, so I wrote the essay "Living like a willow tree" with tears in my eyes. It is an essay, in fact, a memorial to the lost youth and dreams, the classmates and friends who entered heaven prematurely, and the hardships and helplessness of past lives. Middle age is a dangerous road in life, a hurdle that is too busy to look forward. People who don't go to heaven always imagine heaven according to their own thinking, but people who go to heaven always exceed people's imagination. "Endure watching peers become new ghosts" and "moonlight shines like water on clothes". In the dark night, I think of Mr. Lu Xun's poems, and my mood is as heavy as a cold night. But there is no moonlight on Christmas Eve, only noise and cold, and there is a "paradise" that dare not touch.