On the night of the Mid-Autumn Festival, we were looking forward to the moon in the yard. We didn't come out for a long time, so we sat back in the central hall, put the bamboo curtains to stuff them, and told my grandmother stories. Grandma can tell stories. After saying one thing, she has to say another... Grandma suddenly said, "The moon is in!"

When we looked, there was indeed a moon in the bamboo curtain, and it slipped in quietly and appeared on the full-length mirror in front of the window. It was a white road first, then a semicircle, and gradually climbed higher. Now, the circle on the full-length mirror is full. The moon was still climbing up the bamboo curtain, but it was full, but it was gradually lost and missing. In the end, there was no trace of it, leaving only an empty mirror and a disappointment. Grandma said: "It's gone, it's a lot, you go out to find the moon."

We all ran out the door, and it sure was in the yard, but it was no longer a full circle. In the center of the yard is the thick osmanthus tree. The osmanthus has not yet bloomed, but there are numerous bones. We don't know where that Man Yuan'er went, but we suspect that this bone duo'er has changed from many stars. Looking up at the sky, the stars seem to be much less than usual. The moon was overhead, obviously bigger and rounder, and we could clearly see what was in it.

"Grandma, what was that month?" I asked.

"It's a tree, child," said Grandma.

"What tree?"

"Osmanthus."

We all looked at each other, and suddenly, there seemed to be a smell, curling behind us, and on the tips of our hair, adding a faint itching feeling, as if we were already in the moon, and the laurel was clearly the one behind us. tree.

Grandma looked at us and smiled: "Silly boy, there are already people there."

"Who?" We were all surprised.

"Chang'e." Grandma said.

"Who is Chang'e?"

"A woman."

"Is there a beautiful third sister?"

"As beautiful as the third sister."

The third sister was delighted: "The moon belongs to me!"

The third sister is the most beautiful among us, and we all envy her. Looking at her madness, there was a trace of jealousy in her heart. We argued, and each said the moon was his own. Grandma brought out a jug of sweet wine from the house, poured a small glass for each of us, and said, "Look at the glass, children, there is a moon in it!"

We all looked at the glass of wine, and indeed a small full circle floated in it. Holding it, motionless, as soon as the hand moved, it trembled so pitifully. Everyone drinks it, and the moon is in everyone's heart. Grandma said, "The moon belongs to everyone. It hasn't gone away. You can find it again."

We became more and more curious, so we found it in the courtyard. We soon found it on grape leaves, on porcelain flower pots, on grandpa's shovel blade. We came to be interested, and actually found the courtyard gate. Outside the courtyard gate, there is a small river, the river is thin, but it is filled with a large piece of pure sand. We ran over from the beach, and as soon as my younger brother stood at Shangwan of the river, he shouted, "The moon is here!"

The younger sister shouted at Xiawan almost at the same time: "The moon is here!"

I went to two places to see the moon in the water in both places. We ran along the river and there was a moon everywhere in the water. We all looked at the sky, and suddenly I saw the moon in the eyes of my younger brother and sister. I think I have it in my eyes too. Oh, there are so many moons - if you will, there is it.

We just sat on the beach, scooping the sand, and looking at the brilliance, I said, "What do you think the moon is?"

"The moon is what I want," said the younger brother.

"The moon is good." My sister said.

I agree with them. As grandma said: it belongs to each of us. We looked up at the moon on the sky again, and I suddenly felt that if we have the moon, the boundless sky is also ours - isn't the moon the seal we put on the sky? Everyone felt satisfied and sleepy, so they sat on the beach and slept sweetly for a while.

长文99

A flower in spring

A flower that blooms in spring also has infinite life. It was Teresa Teng who told me about it.

On May 8, 1995, Teresa Teng died suddenly in Chiang Mai, Thailand, at the age of 42. On that day, some people felt lost, some were dumbfounded, and some burst into tears.

If Teresa Teng was still alive, she would be 62 years old this year. Her voice may still be gentle and bright, and her people may still shine like a full moon. When she sings, the night will be more charming and the hearts of the listeners will be softer. Her singing makes people's emotions more profound, and the deep emotions in turn make her singing more moving. Of course, it is also possible that at 62 years old, she is already old, and her voice is full of the powerlessness of old age.

But what does it matter? No matter how old the time is, she and her singing will forever remain in people's memory and cannot be changed. Humans may change the future, but humans can never change the past. Because of this, once we have lived, we must have lived. According to the philosopher Wittgenstein, if we understand eternity not as an infinite continuation of time, but as timelessness, then whoever lives at any moment will also live forever.

A friend of mine spent a morning telling me the story of Teresa Teng who was alive.

My friend listened to Teresa Teng, it was in the 1990s, Hong Kong and Taiwan songs had been on the offensive, Qi Qin, Wang Jie, Zhang Yusheng, Tong Ange, Zhao Chuan, Alan Tam, Leslie Cheung, Jacky Cheung... So many idols are leading the way, and listening to Teresa Teng is already A very outdated thing. But my friend's father never tires of it. There are only 3 tapes that must be played every day: Huangmei Opera "Tianxian Match", symphony "House of Flying Daggers", and Teresa Teng's song.

One day, a friend passed by a tape stand in Qiaotou. The boss knew his taste and told him there was a new tape: "Farewell Rock". The friend was suspicious, and the boss quickly said, "Look, Tang Chao, Zheng Jun, Samsara, Black Panther, Zang Tianshuo..." When it was released, they all covered Teresa Teng. When I bought the tape and brought it home, his father didn't like it, saying it was tasteless, and the song that the woman sang, the man sang indifferently.

A few years later, a friend made a girlfriend and went back to their hometown to celebrate the Spring Festival together. His father bought a very "saucy" video recorder. Friends and girlfriends rented a lot of videotapes to watch, one of which was called "Sweet Honey". After reading it, Teresa Teng's status in his mind could no longer be shaken.

A few years later, his father died. The friend said: "I don't know if he went there to chase after Teresa Teng. He gave me a few dreams, but he didn't say this, and I didn't want to ask."

The friend is sincere. He did not push Teresa Teng to the splendid throne. He just took off his coat and calmly faced his memories, as well as Teresa Teng in his memories.

A Tibetan folk proverb says, "A proud person is like a stone. No matter how much water you pour on it, it will never get wet." I think emotional people are like flamingos, no matter how they are bound, their feathers remain is red.

We miss Teresa Teng, because we are all stones and flamingos, and our pride and emotion cannot be completely taken away even if time flies by.

We are grateful to Teresa Teng, because in that era when there were only ethnic singing, bel canto and popular singing, she sang people's emotions with a human voice and influenced generations after generations.