On a frosty morning, no one left a rainbow jade brocade in front of my door. I planted this almost withered succulent plant in a pot, and waited for time, hoping that it would come back to life. Rainbow Jade Brocade didn't seem to realize that he was already in the predicament of survival. He only opened himself up, finally shining with the luster of the rainbow in a certain spring, flourishing in his own world.
Perhaps, as long as any life in the world has a direction, it can show the instinct of life radiant in its own habitat.
At dusk, I was walking on the path of Bailuzhou Park, the air was filled with the fragrance of plants. Not far away, a mother was flying a kite with her six-year-old child. The mother pulled the thread of the kite. When the kite flew up, the boy shouted: "Mom, higher and higher."
Suddenly, the wind rose and the kite hung on a big banyan tree and shook again. The ground fell down. The boy’s mother frowned and said, “The kite is broken and can’t fly again.” Unexpectedly, the boy was not upset and said, “Mom, look at it, it’s a boat!” The
boy’s mother was puzzled. , The boy clapped his hands and cheered: "I drew a sailboat, which is very similar to it. Oh, when a kite is broken, it becomes a sailboat!" At that moment, there seemed to be a string in my heart that was plucked—the kite broke, just Become a sailboat. It turns out that in the eyes of a boy, any damage can be sunshine, beauty, and poetry.
Perhaps the road in life is rugged, and everyone will encounter troubles, breakages, and injustices. They can’t avoid it if they want to hide. Only with a smile of innocence can they exude the fragrance of Zen in the adversity of life and become what they really are.
Many years ago, I moved to live in the alleys of Neicuoao on Gulangyu Island, and I often heard the crisp sound of bells in the dark. It took a long time to realize that it was the bell of the old man selling flat soup. Then one day, a friend invited me to participate in a donation activity. During the event, a poor student spoke and said that he was both poor and very rich, because when he became an orphan, he received a selfless donation from an old man, so that he had a house, clothes, books, and books. To have the courage to continue living.
I was curious about what kind of old man this was. When I saw the donor, I was stunned because it was not someone else, but the old man selling flat soup. I learned that the old man was widowed in his early years and he had a son who was teaching in the countryside. He has always wanted to build a caring school. After his son died of a sudden myocardial infarction, the old man took hold of his son’s dream and donated to the charity foundation. Use your life savings to build a love school. I stared at the old man’s gully face, although his life has been torn away a small corner, but his Buddha's light is on his back, his white hair is like a banner, he uses this innocent small banner to adjust his grief and turn the pain into honey that can be sucked. .
Wang Zengqi in the "world vegetation" wrote: "dead calm gone, still relive the review, between the vicissitudes of the leaves, take a break beautiful, hairpin years into the muscle, the pain and the promise it sweet ......"
fine Think about it, there is no end to the principles of being human: most of the time, we are in our own world, or have not good enough circumstances, have experienced difficult lives, and lost loved ones, but can we not be in the dark? In the middle of sinking, only after the pain, keep looking up to the sun and the beauty?
I talked to a friend about a short story in the Ming Dynasty: two friends met to climb the mountain, one of them arrived first, climbed to the top of the mountain, saw the clouds and mist entangled at the waist, opened the big sleeves of the toga, picked up a sleeve of clouds, and looked at the friend In the direction of hometown, open the sleeves and let the clouds fly out from the palm.
Friends can't help but admire, and give you a sleeve of clouds, which is probably the most beautiful poetry of the ancients. However, the poetry of life does not come from the gift of others, but from the heart, feelings or a pair of eyes. Just like the withered rainbow jade brocade, the boy flying kite, the old man selling flat soup, in the depths of life, even if you bear sudden damage and pain, you can still maintain the balance and strength of your mind.
