After graduating from University, I have been unable to find a suitable job. Although I am still diligent, the paintings I draw are always ignored, and it has become a problem to feed myself. I began to doubt whether it was a complete mistake for me to choose art major and aspire to become a famous painter. How far is there between real life and ideal? Will I never reach the other side of success? In order to make a living, I had to put aside my paintbrush temporarily. In that northern metropolis, I set up a stall and sold breakfast. Two years later, I ended my wandering life, took part in the recruitment examination held by the city, and became an art teacher in a middle school. From then on, my life is to teach students to draw some simple pictures on the blackboard every day. I often think sadly that my ideal has long gone with the wind. In this life, I can't draw any famous paintings and become any painting masters. It's just a distant dream. It was not until I met Zhou Shunbo one day that I changed my sad idea. It was a sunny day in mid autumn. I took my students to sketch in zhoufenglou village. This is a beautiful village. Hidden in the folds of the mountains, there are ancient bluestone dwellings. In front of the village, the river flows slowly, like a light ink painting. While the students were quietly painting, I wandered around the village. At the gate of a farm yard, I met Zhou Shunbo, the former old landlord. "Young man, why haven't you come to paint in the past two years?" He squatted in front of a large piece of golden dried corn, leaned against a fruit laden jujube tree, sucked sweat cigarette bags, and asked me with a smile. I sat down beside him, looked at the old man who had given me a lot of help before, and told him the fate of these years after graduation. Finally, I gave up the idea of giving up the painter's dream, and I don't want to create any more. He raised his wrinkled face, looked at me and said in puzzlement, "how can people be so smooth if they want to do something? I don't understand other major principles. I'm a farmer and only know how to farm. Come with me to see the harvest in my yard this year." He took me into his yard. The wide yard was full of corn. On the windowsill, on the tree and on the roof, there were strings of golden corn everywhere, as if it were a beautiful note of autumn, or a lyric about autumn. "Come inside again." Zhou Shunbo stepped into his old house and showed me the grain in several large hoards on the ground. One hoard is full of pink peanuts, while the other hoards are black beans and soybeans. Oh, this autumn is a bumper harvest for Zhou Shunbo. I was about to congratulate him on his harvest year, and he seemed to see through my heart, Cut me off: "Now the harvest is pleasant! But do you know the labor here? How many barriers do you have to go through from sowing to harvest? Take the corn in the yard for example. After sowing, you are afraid that the seeds will be bitten by insects and washed by heavy rain. When the seedlings emerge, you need to apply medicine, fertilizer and weed in case of insect pests. It is not easy to wait until the corn blooms, when you are most afraid of rain. Later, when the ears are bearing, there are many strong winds in summer, and maybe a gust of wind will destroy a field of crops Blow down. Do you think it's easy to harvest food? If you want to harvest, you have to work hard, but the most important thing is that you have to wait for three months, so that they have enough time to grow, so that the corn can grow well! You see, you want to retreat now when you encounter a little wind and waves. I think if you are a farmer, you must be unqualified. " With these words, Zhou Shunbo lit a pot of sweat smoke again, smoked sweetly, and stopped talking. He just looked at me and smiled. I looked at the golden corn behind him and was silent and lost in thought. After coming back, I picked up the brush I had abandoned for a long time and spent my spare time on painting. Among the many works completed, one is called harvest, which I particularly like. In the picture, under the high blue sky, an old farmer squats under a fruity jujube tree, smoking sweat and cigarettes with a smile. In front of him and behind him are all dried corn. A year later, there was a painting exhibition in Beijing, and I sent this oil painting to the exhibition. I kept Zhou Shunbo's words in mind and insisted on creating. Gradually, the exhibition was forgotten by me. Two months later, I received a phone call. My painting won the second prize. Three days later, I went to Beijing to receive the prize. I am not excited like crazy, only a faint joy, such as the late autumn wind blowing my face. That afternoon, I went to the village to find Zhou Shunbo and wanted to tell him the good news. His family told me that he had gone to his daughter's house and was not there. I walked back along the wheat field near the village. It was cold, and the wheat seedlings were covered with layers of thin frost. Their leaves were rustling and clinging tightly to the land in the cold wind. After the wind and frost, the wheat seedlings would thrive next spring. As I walked, I remembered Zhou Shunbo's words, don't worry, give success a growth time.