15 years old, junior high school Security is security. Nothing can better explain my mood at that time. At the age of 15, we moved into a strange community. Compared with living far away from school, I have to bring an access card in and out, which gives me a headache. Every time I walk to the door, I will suddenly bend down and drill directly from below. However, at this time, one of the people I used to hate most would suddenly appear in front of me - the security guard at the door. He looked like I owed him $8 million and asked me to show me the owner's card. What was originally innocuous came here, but it annoyed me inexplicably. I often casually say the number of going out, and then leave with a big stab in my contemptuous eyes. Spoiled, arrogant and ignorant, like all teenagers with superior life, I don't know what respect is. One day, I stopped him and forgot to bring the door card. I couldn't help yelling and returning the unhappiness I had accumulated at ordinary times. The security uncle blushed and politely explained to me that this was the rule. He chattered a lot of truth. I looked at him and felt that he was the kind of villain who had little power to exhaust. I looked at him sweating, and only two words popped out of my mouth - stupid. I gave him a disdainful look and went straight in. This time, he stuck there motionless. I have a dark pleasure after defeating others. The less you want to happen, the more it will happen - I think he stood there to confirm Murphy's law. The more worried he is that the owner doesn't bring the door card, the more people don't care about the door card. One afternoon, I was awakened by the sharp abuse downstairs. Looking down, I saw a middle-aged man pointing at the security guard, with a ferocious face and no quality. I saw the security uncle sighing helplessly and looking around. His eyes were full of grievances and helplessness. Standing in the scorching sun, in the hot summer without a trace of wind, wearing a uniform and sweating. Standing in the summer when air conditioning is not enough to relieve boredom. It turned out that he had to bear such abuse many times a day, and I was one of them. I have unspeakable guilt in my heart. The stiff uneasiness makes me go downstairs involuntarily. That day, I specially brought my door card and bought two cans of coke in the supermarket at the door. When I entered the door, I pretended to be calm and said that I was sorry that day. The security guard scratched his head and smiled, a little flattered. I gave him the coke. He refused to accept it at first, then took it and put it aside. Since then, the security guard smiled at me every time he saw me. After that, the bustling Spring Festival came. I stood on the balcony and pasted couplets. I found that the security uncle was still standing guard. He was scolded again for persuading the owner to put firecrackers in the community. It was cold in winter and rainy that day. He stood alone by the small pavilion, sometimes looking up at the sky and sometimes looking into the distance. The security station has no computer or TV. He stands bored day by day. I frowned. The security uncle of that day was fixed in my young memory at that time. I think he must also have his own parents, children and lovers. I found that a person can stand through one hot summer and cold winter for the sake of his family. Since that year, I have the habit of carrying door cards with me. Although I moved many times later, I can always see his shadow on different people. 17 years old, high school After graduating from junior high school, I left my parents. I started high school in a strange city. I often have irregular meals there. Sometimes I just solve the problem of food and clothing on the roadside - there is a small stall of Shandong pancakes that I often patronize. I remember there was a little boy in the uncle who sold pancakes. He would arrive at his father's cart on time at 6 p.m. every day. Sometimes I do my homework on a plastic stool. Sometimes I play with the flowers and grass under the tree. Sometimes I sleep on a piece of cardboard next to the cart with a small book when I am sleepy. Such hard days make the little boy who should still be carefree in kindergarten mature early and make no noise. One night when I passed the street, I found that the pancake stall was surrounded by three layers inside and three layers outside - a middle-aged man in a suit was furious and pointed at the father of the little boy who accidentally splashed batter on him. The little boy's father was very embarrassed and kept apologizing. His face was full of helplessness and grievances. I saw the little boy through the crowd. He was surrounded by the crowd. His eyes were full of fear and helplessness. He held his father's clothes tightly. Later, the middle-aged man scolded him and finally left. After the crowd dispersed, his father sat on the stool alone in silence. Maybe I feel humiliated in front of my son, or sad and wronged. The little boy's father stroked the little boy's head and said something about nothing. I wanted to buy another pancake by the way, but when I came forward, I saw the little boy climbing on his father's leg and patting his father on the back with his little hand. Suddenly, the little boy's eyes burst into tears drop by drop. The little boy bit his mouth. Maybe he was trying to bear it so that his father wouldn't find it. His hands kept wiping his eyes alternately. At that moment, I was overwhelmed by sadness. The little boy's shriveled mouth and tears of fear hit me like a fist. I think of my busy father. We seldom communicate. Even at the lowest point of his life, I never patted him on the back like this and said words of encouragement - it seemed very awkward. We always talk intermittently, not even face-to-face. In caring for my parents, I'm not even as good as a little boy. Back that day, I lost sleep. Since then, I began to call home when I had nothing to do. I know that when I grow up, my parents will be old. 22 years old, College When I was in my 20s, I went back to my home factory for internship. I finally began to listen to my father, which made him more or less happy. In the factory, I noticed Xiao Hu, a salesman. He has been working hard for two years. Once I was bored and went out to run business with him. He held samples in both hands. One store after another was often white eyed, but he was just sweating and smiling politely. At the dinner party, he was filled with wine by customers from the northeast, and what he did most was pour wine, pour tea, hand paper towels, call waiters, open wine bottles, and force a smile. There was no suspense. He was so drunk that he was in a mess. I'll take him home. The car was quiet, leaving only the sound of breathing. I turned on the stereo - heating by Zhang Guorong. He listened, talked to himself and talked about the song intermittently. He said he didn't feel bad at school, but he felt good after he came out to work. He turned and looked out of the window. The light from the street lamp brushed his face one by one. There was a cold moon in the sky. I couldn't see his expression in the dark. With a red neck and a red face, he sang loudly with the stereo: don't hide your lonely heart / although the world is more cruel than we thought / I won't cover my lonely eyes / just because I want to see your innocence / we can keep warm by hugging / we can survive by snuggling / even in the world of ice and snow His voice trembled, but he repressed it hoarsely. He said, open the window. As soon as I opened the window, the wind roared in fiercely, but what caught me off guard was not the wind, but his cry. He cried his heart out and out. He buried his face in his hand, and tears came out of his palm I don't know how long later, when he almost got home, he was tired of crying and only sobbed. With red eyes, he rubbed his face hard at the faucet next to the flower bed in the community, then raised his head and asked me, can you still see it? I said a little. I know his wife is still waiting for him. He shook his head to try to make his brain more awake. He straightened his waist, pulled his clothes, wiped the water on his face with a paper towel, coughed twice, took a deep breath, straightened his chest, smiled at me and went up the stairs with his bag. His tired footsteps disappeared into the night. The old building in front of me is so old that it doesn't even have a lamp. I think he will return to that humble but warm place soon. His vulnerability will not be seen by his wife. He is still a big man with a height of 1.8 meters. In front of his young children, he is still indomitable. I think, among all the emotional components, forbearance is the most profound component. We can run hard for our relatives, even if we don't hesitate to fall and get up again. This year, I was 23 years old. Once, I often skipped classes and played games in school. I didn't want to go to school. I always felt that a serious and hard-working life was far away from me. But tired and hard working, he let me face the truth of life. I don't know how much pressure life means to him, and how cold the reality is, so that after he gets drunk, he can cry like a child after listening to a dull song "heating". I think of his hands intentionally or unintentionally covering the buttons without buttons on his shirt when facing customers, and the way he laughed when he mentioned his family... Both sad and moved for him. Postscript, future I think one day, I will be a husband and father. Running for a living and bumping for an ideal. And growing into a man who takes responsibility on his shoulders, maybe there are too many things to bear in one's life. And the most important family members in our life will always become the driving force for our growth. I used to think that to live is to watch the sun rise in the East and set in the west every day. But years will always lead us all the way, and we will naturally become an adult. But far from it, those strangers in life give us a slap in the face and let us grow in an instant. Maybe what they have experienced, we need to experience it one day; What they face, we also need to face one day. I remember I once read Liu Liangcheng's saying: "we can't see all the snow in one's life. Everyone spends the winter alone in his own life." If I could be as patient as they are for my relatives, endure all the ups and downs in life, and endure all the difficulties and dangers of the world. Then, still insist, still grateful, still struggle. Maybe that kind of man is the real growth and maturity.

15 years old, junior high school Security is security. Nothing can better explain my mood at that time. At the age of 15, we moved into a strange community. Compared with living far away from school, I have to bring an access card in and out, which gives me a headache. Every time I walk to the door, I will suddenly bend down and drill directly from below. However, at this time, one of the people I used to hate most would suddenly appear in front of me - the security guard at the door. He looked like I owed him $8 million and asked me to show me the owner's card. What was originally innocuous came here, but it annoyed me inexplicably. I often casually say the number of going out, and then leave with a big stab in my contemptuous eyes. Spoiled, arrogant and ignorant, like all teenagers with superior life, I don't know what respect is. One day, I stopped him and forgot to bring the door card. I couldn't help yelling and returning the unhappiness I had accumulated at ordinary times. The security uncle blushed and politely explained to me that this was the rule. He chattered a lot of truth. I looked at him and felt that he was the kind of villain who had little power to exhaust. I looked at him sweating, and only two words popped out of my mouth - stupid. I gave him a disdainful look and went straight in. This time, he stuck there motionless. I have a dark pleasure after defeating others. The less you want to happen, the more it will happen - I think he stood there to confirm Murphy's law. The more worried he is that the owner doesn't bring the door card, the more people don't care about the door card. One afternoon, I was awakened by the sharp abuse downstairs. Looking down, I saw a middle-aged man pointing at the security guard, with a ferocious face and no quality. I saw the security uncle sighing helplessly and looking around. His eyes were full of grievances and helplessness. Standing in the scorching sun, in the hot summer without a trace of wind, wearing a uniform and sweating. Standing in the summer when air conditioning is not enough to relieve boredom. It turned out that he had to bear such abuse many times a day, and I was one of them. I have unspeakable guilt in my heart. The stiff uneasiness makes me go downstairs involuntarily. That day, I specially brought my door card and bought two cans of coke in the supermarket at the door. When I entered the door, I pretended to be calm and said that I was sorry that day. The security guard scratched his head and smiled, a little flattered. I gave him the coke. He refused to accept it at first, then took it and put it aside. Since then, the security guard smiled at me every time he saw me. After that, the bustling Spring Festival came. I stood on the balcony and pasted couplets. I found that the security uncle was still standing guard. He was scolded again for persuading the owner to put firecrackers in the community. It was cold in winter and rainy that day. He stood alone by the small pavilion, sometimes looking up at the sky and sometimes looking into the distance. The security station has no computer or TV. He stands bored day by day. I frowned. The security uncle of that day was fixed in my young memory at that time. I think he must also have his own parents, children and lovers. I found that a person can stand through one hot summer and cold winter for the sake of his family. Since that year, I have the habit of carrying door cards with me. Although I moved many times later, I can always see his shadow on different people. 17 years old, high school After graduating from junior high school, I left my parents. I started high school in a strange city. I often have irregular meals there. Sometimes I just solve the problem of food and clothing on the roadside - there is a small stall of Shandong pancakes that I often patronize. I remember there was a little boy in the uncle who sold pancakes. He would arrive at his father's cart on time at 6 p.m. every day. Sometimes I do my homework on a plastic stool. Sometimes I play with the flowers and grass under the tree. Sometimes I sleep on a piece of cardboard next to the cart with a small book when I am sleepy. Such hard days make the little boy who should still be carefree in kindergarten mature early and make no noise. One night when I passed the street, I found that the pancake stall was surrounded by three layers inside and three layers outside - a middle-aged man in a suit was furious and pointed at the father of the little boy who accidentally splashed batter on him. The little boy's father was very embarrassed and kept apologizing. His face was full of helplessness and grievances. I saw the little boy through the crowd. He was surrounded by the crowd. His eyes were full of fear and helplessness. He held his father's clothes tightly. Later, the middle-aged man scolded him and finally left. After the crowd dispersed, his father sat on the stool alone in silence. Maybe I feel humiliated in front of my son, or sad and wronged. The little boy's father stroked the little boy's head and said something about nothing. I wanted to buy another pancake by the way, but when I came forward, I saw the little boy climbing on his father's leg and patting his father on the back with his little hand. Suddenly, the little boy's eyes burst into tears drop by drop. The little boy bit his mouth. Maybe he was trying to bear it so that his father wouldn't find it. His hands kept wiping his eyes alternately. At that moment, I was overwhelmed by sadness. The little boy's shriveled mouth and tears of fear hit me like a fist. I think of my busy father. We seldom communicate. Even at the lowest point of his life, I never patted him on the back like this and said words of encouragement - it seemed very awkward. We always talk intermittently, not even face-to-face. In caring for my parents, I'm not even as good as a little boy. Back that day, I lost sleep. Since then, I began to call home when I had nothing to do. I know that when I grow up, my parents will be old. 22 years old, College When I was in my 20s, I went back to my home factory for internship. I finally began to listen to my father, which made him more or less happy. In the factory, I noticed Xiao Hu, a salesman. He has been working hard for two years. Once I was bored and went out to run business with him. He held samples in both hands. One store after another was often white eyed, but he was just sweating and smiling politely. At the dinner party, he was filled with wine by customers from the northeast, and what he did most was pour wine, pour tea, hand paper towels, call waiters, open wine bottles, and force a smile. There was no suspense. He was so drunk that he was in a mess. I'll take him home. The car was quiet, leaving only the sound of breathing. I turned on the stereo - heating by Zhang Guorong. He listened, talked to himself and talked about the song intermittently. He said he didn't feel bad at school, but he felt good after he came out to work. He turned and looked out of the window. The light from the street lamp brushed his face one by one. There was a cold moon in the sky. I couldn't see his expression in the dark. With a red neck and a red face, he sang loudly with the stereo: don't hide your lonely heart / although the world is more cruel than we thought / I won't cover my lonely eyes / just because I want to see your innocence / we can keep warm by hugging / we can survive by snuggling / even in the world of ice and snow His voice trembled, but he repressed it hoarsely. He said, open the window. As soon as I opened the window, the wind roared in fiercely, but what caught me off guard was not the wind, but his cry. He cried his heart out and out. He buried his face in his hand, and tears came out of his palm I don't know how long later, when he almost got home, he was tired of crying and only sobbed. With red eyes, he rubbed his face hard at the faucet next to the flower bed in the community, then raised his head and asked me, can you still see it? I said a little. I know his wife is still waiting for him. He shook his head to try to make his brain more awake. He straightened his waist, pulled his clothes, wiped the water on his face with a paper towel, coughed twice, took a deep breath, straightened his chest, smiled at me and went up the stairs with his bag. His tired footsteps disappeared into the night. The old building in front of me is so old that it doesn't even have a lamp. I think he will return to that humble but warm place soon. His vulnerability will not be seen by his wife. He is still a big man with a height of 1.8 meters. In front of his young children, he is still indomitable. I think, among all the emotional components, forbearance is the most profound component. We can run hard for our relatives, even if we don't hesitate to fall and get up again. This year, I was 23 years old. Once, I often skipped classes and played games in school. I didn't want to go to school. I always felt that a serious and hard-working life was far away from me. But tired and hard working, he let me face the truth of life. I don't know how much pressure life means to him, and how cold the reality is, so that after he gets drunk, he can cry like a child after listening to a dull song "heating". I think of his hands intentionally or unintentionally covering the buttons without buttons on his shirt when facing customers, and the way he laughed when he mentioned his family... Both sad and moved for him. Postscript, future I think one day, I will be a husband and father. Running for a living and bumping for an ideal. And growing into a man who takes responsibility on his shoulders, maybe there are too many things to bear in one's life. And the most important family members in our life will always become the driving force for our growth. I used to think that to live is to watch the sun rise in the East and set in the west every day. But years will always lead us all the way, and we will naturally become an adult. But far from it, those strangers in life give us a slap in the face and let us grow in an instant. Maybe what they have experienced, we need to experience it one day; What they face, we also need to face one day. I remember I once read Liu Liangcheng's saying: "we can't see all the snow in one's life. Everyone spends the winter alone in his own life." If I could be as patient as they are for my relatives, endure all the ups and downs in life, and endure all the difficulties and dangers of the world. Then, still insist, still grateful, still struggle. Maybe that kind of man is the real growth and maturity.