Just open the first page

Just open the first page, you know what the strings of hope have written. There is such a name called memory, and there is such a group name called second-hand books. I am not a collector, nor am I an enthusiast like a stamp collector. I simply love books, so I can't live without them. Love books, there is a full shelf of bookcases can be examples. Love books, like in the string of hope taste, guess. Love books, and of course love to buy books, but no matter how many books, in the bookcase in the most inconspicuous corner, from beginning to end there are a few books and not worth mentioning second-hand books. The book is already very old, the printing paper has gradually turned a little yellow, and even the publication date on the cover has been some mottled, only to understand that the "age" of the youngest one here is not easy to be younger than me. But that is really not my book, I have not been to the old book stall Taobao, perhaps, that will become a key place for me in the future. These books are all handed to me by the previous generation, bearing the spiritual sustenance of their generation. My books, which are next to them, are a little more than ten years younger than these, and I bought them myself when I grew up. My second-hand book. I've been digging through it. When I finally opened the second-hand book, I saw the words of understanding and glimpsed the strokes dyed in them, which also helped me to indulge in the artistic realm. There are some chapters of the catalog I annotated the dense, let me on the instant pride of life, straight to compare with the content of the article, to see who more words. Just one person. Open the book. Only look carefully at these written words, looking back at the original moment, can not see for a long time, still contains some outstanding; Then carefully to feel the words written at that time, some as if I have not allowed, a little childish, immature, that is the sign of today's development. I took the pen, from time to time to outline and erase what. Sometimes they will also help me to inspire, at that time some ideas, I or have forgotten, and pick up today, there is a great sense of enlightenment, good. Re-reading a second-hand book, especially a good book, I think, is not so much a return of memory, but rather a re-impact on feelings, the impact of such feelings is generally more obvious in the first reading, but each time you read it will have a different new feeling. Read a hundred times, its righteousness to see. This statement is not nonsense. Holding a second-hand book in your hand is like grasping a piece of happiness. Today, this sense of satisfaction continues to expand: in the bookcase on the wall, the old books continue to be added, floating all the interior space, until the "flow" out. Until one day, someone came to me and said, "What do you want to say about capital?" I have used books, all over the house.Winter came cold enveloping the world, in the blossoming snow I found a warm light. Looking from the window of the dim light, steaming warm tea, and the family's calm and orderly life, I, happy and satisfied to sleep. Time goes backwards.... With a cry at the beginning of my life, I told the world with an extraordinary voice that I was coming. My mother gently hugged me and kissed my forehead, and the love between my brow instantly soothed my anxiety about coming to this world. He seemed to be telling me, "You know what, kid? How happy I am to have you!" Maybe my mom doesn't know, but I do. In my noise, under the meticulous care of my parents, the days passed by, unconsciously I grew up to love my parents. The understanding gradually deepens. Every time after wrestling, every time after quarreling with the children, I snuggled up to my father's arms, which smoothed all my pain and filled all my grievances; Never before going out, my mother always straightened my collar and said, "Be careful ", so that she could comfort my young heart and bring me infinite strength...... Everything tells me that in the long journey of life, everyone wants help, everyone wants warmth, everyone wants to escape the harsh wind and rain, and it is the parents who are growing older and older who give me all these things. I fell off a test, afraid to see the teacher, afraid to face the classmates, I fled home, remember my mother is so told me, "as long as it is not to the wisdom, frustration is just a slight backward, you have to learn to enjoy the thorough blow, like the penguin enjoys the cold." At that moment, I was relieved. One night always sleep very heavy I was awakened by a very small footsteps, is my father, he gently open my door, give me to tuck the corner of the bed, after my father has gently stroked my face. It is the affection that has not been promised for decades that has touched my heart and warmed my soul. Early in the morning, with me out, is a concern of my mother; In the evening, accompany me home, is attractive rice fragrance; Late at night, accompanying me to sleep, is my father's care. My parents gave me too much love, and I am too grateful to them. Happiness is within reach of the feeling of happiness, happiness is the ordinary days of calm, happiness is the simple food and happy to meet, happiness is inadvertently passing the gentle hair, happiness is the trust between each other waiting for... ... In a word, happiness is family love. Parents, because of you, so I, because of me, you will be happy. I will make you feel happy with my actions.