There is no need to feel inferior and depressed because of my ordinary, because some people clearly remember that I am different from others. -inscription
Accidentally bumped into a child in the street, very young, holding a big rabbit puppet, which is the same style and can be seen everywhere in shops. The child was at a loss, so I squatted down and touched her head: "I'm sorry, are you okay?"
The child recovered and smiled shyly at the stranger: "Well, it doesn't matter ..." I casually asked: "... very cute Mr. Rabbit. Do you like rabbits? " "I like Mr. Rabbit because he is Mr. Rabbit." The child looked serious, as if to say a very solemn sentence, "My Mr. Rabbit is different from other rabbits."
The child's clear eyes are reflected in my eyes, and there is a gentle firmness.
I was arguing with my mother. Because of the unsatisfactory results recently, the meaning of depression has accumulated in my heart for a long time, waiting for an invisible fuse and an untimely spark to detonate the gunpowder ready to go. Originally, it was just a few sparse and ordinary words, with some criticism, knowing that my mother was out of concern, but I broke out in a bad temper on the spot: "Anyway, I am a public face! Anyway, I just don't stand out Anyway, I just threw it on the street and couldn't find it! Am I like everyone else? Why do you just think I'm better than others ... "
It is hard to forget my self-confidence and timidly hide myself in front of the public. I thought I would run faster without glory, but I unconsciously used this as an excuse to stop. Am I like everyone else? I am no different. I don't have the capital to be proud or to dream those elusive dreams.
I'm just like everyone else. I have always insisted on this.
But at the moment, the child's words surprised me. Why does mom love me? I used to have enough glory to make her proud, but now I still stand in the crowd, too ordinary to be recognized, but my love for my mother has never changed, right?
The child ran away. On the other side of the road, a woman looked at her anxiously, ordinary, but unusual in the strange light.
I started running in the direction of home. I am familiar with pressing the floor button when the elevator rises, thinking of apologizing. The moment I walked out of the elevator door, the door opened. "Come back?" Mother's tone is very light, and it doesn't look like she had a fight with me at all.
"hmm." I replied gloomily, wondering from the bottom of my heart. "How do you know to open the door? I didn't ring the doorbell again ... "
"I don't know, it feels like you're here. Just open the door and have a look ... "
All of a sudden, everything is clear. My mother's love for me has nothing to do with the glory I can bring, but I am my mother's child. Mom loves me just because I am who I am. I may be insignificant in the eyes of others, but in the eyes of my mother, I am her only child, unique and irreplaceable. It's not that my mother wants me to be different from ordinary people, but that she always believes so.
Am I like everyone else?
Secular, yes.
Love says, no, you are the only one.
[Expert Comment] Rich in writing, it leads to self-reflection through unique bedding, and writes the understanding of maternal love, that is, all children are unique and irreplaceable for mothers. But if the foreshadowing in front and the reflection behind can be combined more closely and reasonably, the article will be more real and natural.
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