I have fallen in love with Oriental Selection in the past two days, although I did not buy rice. But I listened carefully to Teacher Dong’s essay about selling rice over and over again, and I really couldn’t accept it!

Let’s take a look at his lines for selling rice:

I didn’t take you to Changbai Mountain to see the white snow, and I didn’t take you to see the heavy people bending down like a wise man. I have not taken you to experience the clear springs in the mountains and the wind blowing through the fields. I have not taken you to witness all this, but I can let you taste such rice;

I want to give you the sky and the sea, I want to give you the rivers, I want to share all the beauty of the world with you, such as the morning dew, the sunset, the wind in March, the rain in June, the sky in September and the twelve Moon Snow, I want to give you all the beauty in the world. Your kindness to me is just like this midsummer. I am not selling rice. I want to arouse people to have more joy in life. I am not selling rice. I'm just talking about three meals a day and four seasons, I'm just talking about paper is short and love is long, I'm just talking about big rivers, I'm just talking about fireworks in the world, why these words can touch you, it's because you love beauty yourself, every angel I love beauty, so I understand your preciousness!

Then his line for selling corn is:

After eating this corn, I believe you will recall your childhood like me, recalling those carefree days when you returned home with your schoolbag on your back. When I got home, I hurriedly threw my schoolbag on the stool and ran into the alley for a whole afternoon.

There are not so many homework to write, not so many people and relationships to take care of, not so many annoying things to deal with, and not so much pain to worry about.

You come back from playing all night. Sometimes your mother sees that you are too tired from playing and calls you back. The corn picked in your own field is boiling in the pot. The aroma is fragrant. You use chopsticks to cook it. Poke it, hold it in your hand, chew it and run.

When you ran, the sunshine behind you was warm and scattered on the ground. It cast a shadow the same size as you in front of you. As you ran and chased, the mouthful of corn in your mouth responded faintly. Sweet and tangy fragrance.

Many years later, you still remember it.

You always remember that in the wind of midsummer night, you were sitting in the yard to enjoy the shade. The cold wind blew, the leaves rustled, and one or two unknown birds occasionally flew over the sky, making crisp calls. scream.

One of you is gnawing on the corn cob with chopsticks, and the other is greedily holding the iced watermelon just taken out of the well. The adults are busy talking about their affairs. Sometimes you whisper, sometimes you laugh heartily, you don't care, because at that time, things in the world have not been experienced yet.

You are as carefree as a child.

Many years later, when you think back, you actually don’t remember the taste of the corn very clearly. It tastes very similar, but you clearly remember that it was those midsummer nights, with stars dotted and the breeze blowing through the leaves. Rustling.

When you are young, you don’t have a headache or cervical spine pain at that time. You won’t toss and turn your head at night when you wake up with insomnia, and you won’t feel dizzy in the morning when you wake up.

At that time, your parents were still in good health, they were young, safe and happy, and your grandparents were with you. In fact, you were not thinking about corns, you were thinking about yourself back then.

After reading Dong Yuhui’s impromptu composition when selling corn, I suddenly understood what a luxurious metaphor it is to be carefree like a child.