The season waiting for flowers to bloom

First seen in the middle of summer, the day is just right, you accidentally bump into your heart like a smile

Will be different from the late winter, may another sunny day, you look at us with a smile.

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In September, with a long-awaited mood into the new campus new class, full of new faces have begun to laugh and talk, it added a bit of joy.

At first, we didn't communicate too much. From student registration to military training, I almost never paid attention to you. Later, when I introduced myself that night, I walked up to the podium, turned around, and looked at the back of the classroom. You were a smiling young female teacher, and there was a smile on the corners of my mouth. The next day, another new class began, listening to the strange bell, I opened the new book aimlessly, but because of that strange and familiar students, class! The voice was so clear that I raised my head unconsciously. At that time, the splendor outside the window was sprinkled on the plain tiles, dazzling and charming. In a blink of an eye, the flower beds under the teaching building are still vaguely discernible adult fallen flowers, the broken trees are affixed with tender stamens, and the road is also covered with the footprints of our walking this semester. Reading and appreciation of American articles

These days, I still remember the early questioning of your late reading, but I saw you on duty patrol with your daughter during the evening self-study. I still remember your mouth puffed up when you feigned anger, but you smiled again in a joke from your classmates. I still remember your serious and serious expression, but turned to relief after we made achievements. I also know that you are conscientious and diligent in your work. I believe it will eventually be full of peaches and plums.

After the end of the one-semester exam, the liberal arts and science courses were divided into classes as scheduled. When I look back, I am still a lively and lovely classmate; when I look back, the campus is still fragrant and tranquil; when I look back, I am still worried that parting will kill beautiful memories with loud books and bursts of laughter. Tense exams are boring, but they are so warm because of mutual encouragement and greetings; childish noise is how warm it is to think of it now; severe criticism has now turned into deep love. I am afraid that one day I will forget them and forget the joys and sorrows that have happened to them.

The road we have taken in our lives has blossomed, no matter how far it is. In this way, parting will not end the beauty once, but multiply more small beauty, and accompany us to wait for the flowers to blossom all the way.