nucleic acid test for four consecutive days. Hope this is the last time.
After the nucleic acid test and when receiving the small sticker, the volunteer who sent the sticker gently touched my sleeve.
is my sleeve. Is there anything? I looked over and saw nothing.
"Old classmate!" The sudden sound from the opposite side surprised me. I looked up and had big eyes on the mask. I didn't recognize me!
probably saw that I looked confused. She took off her mask and was a woman of about the same age as me.
, but I still don't know it.
But I couldn't make her think that I didn't recognize her, so I pretended to recognize her and smiled slightly: "Are you sending stickers here?"
She smiled and bent her eyes: "Yes."
I had nothing to say: "It turns out that I haven't seen her before. Which unit are you in?" I hope to find the answer to who she is in her answer.
She said the name of the unit. I remembered that their unit consisted of our community, but I still didn’t know who she was, so I had to talk to her about family and children without saying a word. It was not until she said, your daughter is like you, a top student, that I suddenly remembered that she was my elementary school classmate.
Yes, except for my elementary school classmates, who would know where my hometown is, and who would know that I used to be a top student?
It’s not my fault that I can’t recognize her. I haven’t seen her for many years.
The past is pouring into my mind like a tide, and I can’t help but think of what happened decades ago.
We are from the same village, we are classmates in the second grade of elementary school. I remember that on the first day of school, she combed two thin braids, a round face, and big eyes, which were very cute. But the next day, when I looked for the girl with thin braids, I couldn't find it. Later I found out that she had cut off her hair, which made me regret for a long time.
The friendship of little girls is always easy to build. We soon left school together and exchanged oil pens to write at school.
I don’t know why, but girls like to write with other people’s pens at that time. I remember after we changed the pen once, I thought it would be nice to write with her pen, but I was embarrassed to ask her to change it next time. I thought to myself, she probably doesn’t want to. After all, I don’t want to write with my pen, so I want to exchange it with her. Will she use my pen?
She saw me holding a pen in my hand, looking at her with a silence, and immediately opened the pencil case, took out the pen and handed it over, making me grateful.
She has been such an understanding person since she was a child.
My daughter was very picky when she was a child, and I once told her such a story.
When I was a child, my family was poor and I ate black noodles steamed buns every day, and I didn’t even have any dishes. I was also picky at the time, so I was very thin. When I was squatting on the ground and playing with others, someone accidentally touched my backbone and asked in surprise: "Why are you inserting a broom stick on your back?"
Every time I see someone eating white flour buns, I am very envious. (At this point, my mother always says that there are some people who can’t take the next meal at home! There are some people who eat cornmeal at home! You can eat enough at least!)
I have a classmate who has a good relationship with me and insists on letting me go to her house to play. When I leave, I must ask me to get a piece of her house Guokui Mo . It was a piece of white flour bun with very good baked color, and it smelled fragrant. I really wanted to refuse, but she would definitely let me take it-I don't know how she could tell I really wanted to eat. So I took it home in vain.
After I got home, I couldn't bear to eat it, so I hid this piece of white flour in my schoolbag and prepared to enjoy it as breakfast when I went to school the next day.
Who knew that when I saw the next morning, the place where the schoolbag was bulging became flat! I hurriedly reached in and touched it, but I didn’t touch the pot-kick, but only a few buns!
It turned out that a mouse who was even more greedy than me stole my Guokui!
When I told my daughter this story, I laughed and told it. I didn't tell my daughter that I went to school crying.
My daughter hugged me and said: Mom, you were so pitiful when you were a child!
Of course, this story did not make my daughter no longer picky about food from now on, but only gave her pity for me.
You must have thought of now that the kind, cute and compassionate little girl in this story is the classmate I met today.
Later, we went to the third grade. We were not in the same class and didn’t seem to meet much. In the new class, I had new friends and my memory of her became indifferent.
Later, it seemed like I had completely forgotten this person.
I didn’t think of her until I had a daughter and remembered the story of Baimian Mo.
Although we are from the same village, we rarely go back to work and never see each other.
In fact, our community is under the jurisdiction of their unit for epidemic prevention and control. Maybe she had recognized me long ago.
But because I have always been not very fond of making friends, she took the initiative to talk to me today.
When I told my lover that I no longer knew her at all, my lover did not believe it at all: How could you not know someone from the same village?
I just don't know you anymore. I said.
You are just face-blind! My husband commented on me like this.
I admit it with shame.
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