In the half year of exchange study in Taiwan, I often went to a red bean cake stall next to my dormitory to buy snacks. The one I love to go to is run by three men: Grandpa, dad and son. Grandpa was responsible for turning the outer ring to maintain its crisp but not burnt taste. Dad stirred and made different fillings: cream, taro and red beans. His son was in his prime, and spread the fillings evenly with a heavy wooden spoon.
I bought a lot. When I lined up, I began to observe their movement coordination, language communication and even eye contact. Without a word of nonsense, they can finish the whole manufacturing process smoothly. This seemingly natural tacit understanding is actually difficult. The store has existed for 50 years since Grandpa set up a stall to sell red bean cakes. My father took over grandpa's craft and passed it on to his son imperceptibly. After I became friends with them from customers, I asked, would I feel bored? Will you feel that your ambition has not been paid if you melt your whole life into this sweet food?
Nah. The young man who did things neatly answered simply. You see, so many people like my red bean cake.
The young man looked at me, Answer in a slightly funny tone: "At first, I did. I felt that what my father and father taught me was very unfashionable. Why should everyone else be playing skateboarding and rock, and I was making red bean cakes. But later, I found that such a simple craft actually had a lot of know-how and key points, and it also took a lot of effort. At that time, I realized that it was not easy to climb the peak of every industry. Making the best red bean cakes, like being the best engineer, required great expertise Note to be successful. You smell it. It smells so sweet. How can I give up? "
After returning from the exchange study, I saw a course on western modern literary trends. I saw the course introduction to cultivate students' superficial understanding of Western art history, so that students can perceive, appreciate and even create beauty. How to listen and how to relax, I chose it. The teacher is an old man over half a hundred years old. He teaches all the obscure courses.
But his class completely surprised me.
Most of the teachers with white hair bowed as soon as they came to the stage to thank us for our presence, then turned around and drew a coordinate line on the blackboard without saying a word, marking several important time nodes and representatives of modern literature and art. He combed the context of literature and art all the way, from Gauguin to Picasso, from Germany to Cezanne, lifelike and detailed, and calmed the bottom batch of teenagers who were holding their mobile phones to brush their microblogs.
When he spoke quietly about Monet's lifelong attachment to flowers and water, I suddenly realized that it was spring outside the window.
I am always grateful to meet these patient people.
When I first went to college, I often skipped classes, read novels in professional classes, watched movies in elective classes, and had an all night before the final exam, which is the highest respect for this course.
But unlike the female students in my dorm, she takes scientific research as her goal, which makes us ashamed. On weekdays, she is very quiet. When we discuss current affairs and exchange "Sanlian Life Weekly", she buried herself in reading most of her professional works and was completely indifferent to a series of fashionable words. In the literary history class, I sang and talked with my teacher. Turning around, I saw her reciting the memorabilia of the Republic of China silently. Six months ago, she won a national scholarship and went to the United States to exchange studies. Even the ending left for me was speechless: four people clinked glasses in the dormitory, we drank beer, and she fooled around with tea.
At an age when everyone is trying to be special, I can easily judge that she is bored. But at the moment, I somehow think she is very cool.
In an environment where the whole class was anxious about graduation and their future, but had to pretend to be careless, she chose to live honestly. At an age when we were actively performing, she chose self denial. This kind of abstemious and placid living method seems to be cooler than the indifference encouraged by hormones. She made it clear that she only wanted to be a top student, and she did become a top student.
I admit that I have been counselled. I no longer use the idle tone to prove my cool. Some people are born to be able to stand on one foot, but I can't. I need two feet firmly on the ground to stand firm.
Although I counselled, my father was very cool. On the afternoon of new year's Eve, we were downstairs preparing to cook vegetables and chatting with our relatives. He was upstairs alone, translating a classic example of the competition. There was a table with three missing ones. My mother asked me to urge him to come down and make up the count. I ran to find him.
Dad hid in a stack of materials and behind a heavy dictionary. Dad is getting old and his hairline is getting higher and higher. But the attentive dad is so cool. I ran to him, bent down and asked him: can you make room for me and I'll read the book with you?