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Short inspirational youth struggle stories

There are many short stories of youth inspiration and struggle that are worth reading by each of us. So what are the short stories of youth inspiration and struggle? Let’s take a look. A short inspirational story of youthful struggle: Clean the bottle in your hand first

Author: Jiang Bingyan

This is an era when everyone is pursuing success. In the past, we only saw the bright side of successful people, but the experience, accumulation, and hardships involved were rarely known.

In 1975, 19-year-old Jin Zhiguo graduated from high school and was assigned to Qingdao Brewery to wash bottles. The high school education at that time was not low, and he felt aggrieved. The wine bottles he painted were often reworked. After being criticized again by the quality inspector, he threw the bottle on the ground and said, "I won't serve it anymore!" Seeing that a conflict was about to break out. At this time, Master Yiyi hurriedly pulled him over, took the bottle and asked: "Xiao Jin, does your father drink beer?" Jin Zhiguo answered in the affirmative. "Well, you have to clean the bottle now, because the wine it contains may be drunk by your father. You don't want the old man to drink from the bars filled with unclean wine bottles? Who can believe that you can't even do such a simple task well? Can you do other things well?" the old master said as he brushed the bottle carefully to set an example for him.

"No matter how far the goal is, we must start by cleaning bottles." The old master’s words have always inspired Jin Zhiguo. From then on, Jin Zhiguo's attitude changed significantly. Not only did he never rework, he also figured out how to clean the bottles both cleanly and efficiently. He continued to grow until he later served as the president and chairman of Tsingtao Beer.

The thousand-year-old saying "If you don't accumulate steps, you can't reach a thousand miles; if you don't accumulate small streams, you can't reach a river", it is still a wise saying today. The small wine bottle contains the wisdom of hard work. Endeavor comes from ambitious goals. Without goals, there is no direction and no motivation. On the day he was elected as the chairman of Tsingtao Brewery, Jin Zhiguo told his employees about his experience that year: "My goal is to start by washing bottles. During the days when I was a bottle washer, I was very happy, and I created rows of beers efficiently. The "myth" that bottles are arranged neatly and in their proper places. Then he said humorously: "I, the chairman, don't have any special skills. I just clean bottles, and I do it seriously." From today on, I will paint the Tsingtao Beer bottle to be cleaner and more beautiful than other people’s bottles. Of course, this requires everyone to make the bottles in their hands clean and beautiful. ”

The small wine bottle contains strong wisdom. In nature, a seed enters the gap before falling into the fertile soil. It unyieldingly breaks through the rocks and blooms green, enough to shine throughout the spring. Similarly, when people are in adversity, , Strength is especially valuable. Hawking's beautiful life in a wheelchair, Helen's search for light in the darkness, Sima Qian's masterpiece of forbearance, and Shi Tiesheng's unremitting questioning in suffering...Strongness achieves the height of life.

< p> The small wine bottle enriches the wisdom of passion. Painting wine bottles is actually a simple task. It goes back and forth, which makes many people feel bored. But Jin Zhiguo paints bottles with passion. As big as it is, the stage will be as big as it is. "There is also a proverb in the West: "You will be young if you are confident, and old if you are afraid; you will be young if you are hopeful, and old if you are desperate; the years will only etch your skin, but if you lose your passion, your soul will not be strong. No matter how young you are. "With this spirit of doing simple things to the extreme, Jin Zhiguo improves not only the quality of work, but also the realm of life and the value of being a human being.

If you think about it carefully, everyone's work and life, They are all wine bottles that need to be cleaned. We only need to clean them wholeheartedly so that the wine contained in them will be mellow and delicious. Short Inspiring Youth Struggle Story: Swimming by the River

I was born by the Jialing River. , I listened to the boatman’s call when I was young, watched the waves hit the river beach, and the water flooded the red sorghum. Nowadays, there are no wooden boats on the river, and there are no boatman’s call and sail, but these are always burned in my memory.

When I was a child, the water of the Jialing River was clear and rippling. Groups of small fish were playing around the naked friends, making water splash and laughing. They dived into the river bottom with their big eyes open, following the fish. figure, picking crystal pebbles, looking for the legendary Golden Bamboo Palace... just for this, I don't know how many times I was punished by the teacher, how many times I was rewarded by my father, and how much worry my mother had to worry about.

I grew up playing by the Jialing River. Every summer the river beach becomes our paradise. Every day after lunch and before going to school, the children gather together with the adults and sneak to the river. We have a special sign language. You don’t need to speak. You only need to stretch out the index finger and middle finger of your right hand and flick it up and down alternately to indicate that you want to "bathe" (swim) in the river.

When I got to the river beach, I took off my clothes as fast as possible, left my clothes on the beach casually, and jumped into the river happily to enjoy the feeling of immersing in the cool river water.

At that time, there were hundreds of swimmers on the river beach every day, mostly teenagers, but also a few middle-aged and elderly people, of course all men. It was as if everyone had agreed to it, and they never thought about wearing pants. We were naked together, facing each other, without any awkwardness or shyness, it was so real.

In the surging river, we swam and swam to our heart's content. When we had swam enough, we ran ashore with wet water drops all over our bodies and fell down, rolling back and forth on the soft beach. The whole body was covered with silver sand. After a while, the sun dried the moisture, and with a gentle pat, all the silver sand was shaken off.

Sometimes, we would dig out very sticky tidal mud in the shallows, go to the shore and build a slide a few meters long, just like the shuttle board in the park, and then sit down naked, and whoosh With a sound, the body slid from the slide into the river, causing a wave of waves.

Sometimes, we will mix silver sand and water into a "paste" and hold it in our hands to let the "paste" slowly drip down from the fingers, dripping into various shapes, some like towers, and some. Like a mountain peak, it is washed away with water and comes back again.

If a sailboat passes by while swimming, the friends will swim out quickly, sneak up on the sailboat, and quickly grab the wooden rudder at the stern of the boat. This is called a "ba rudder". After grabbing the wooden rudder, they will not move. I struggled to follow the sailboat and drifted upstream until the boss of the boat found me and scolded me on the boat, then I swam back with a big smile.

We all learned how to swim on our own without any teacher teaching us. After our skills improved, we liked to swim in the river. As long as there was a motor boat passing by, we would swim out and get close to the boat. As soon as the boat passed by The prodigal son rises and falls all the time, sending you to the top and then dropping you into the abyss. The feeling is so exciting that you forget everything in the world. It is very exciting. We also like to go to the beach, especially during high water seasons. We walked for a while first, then got into the water, swam to the center of the river, and went downstream. Sometimes I just do a backstroke, lying on the water, looking at the blue sky, listening to the sound of the rushing water, how free, how unrestrained, how forgetful, the more the water flows, the more exciting it is, and the green mountains on both sides of the bank are passing by. It feels really good. It's a bit like "the boat has crossed the Ten Thousand Mountains".

The most memorable time when we swam by the river was the fight in the "", the industrial school across the street fired the first shot in the mountain city. Several of our friends, who were only twelve or thirteen years old at the time, tied up their shorts. On the head, I actually swam across the river to see the scene after the shooting.

Swimming can strengthen one's body and exercise one's mind. People drown in the river every year, and the school has issued a ban, but we still swim. Swimming makes us bold and cautious. Relaxed and happy; swimming teaches us not to be afraid of difficulties and move forward courageously. A short inspirational story of youth struggle: On the Road

The more rumors you can resist, the more fully-fledged you will be; ridicule is nothing, why should you care about those poor people who don’t even know what their dreams are? ;Blows are nothing, as long as the heart is not dead, it has the power to continue beating...

These lines of meaningful small words seem to be written by a gentle and intellectual woman. Now it was taken as a photo and became his mobile phone lock screen wallpaper.

He is a very quiet person, sometimes so quiet that others ignore his existence. This is the best, he often thought.

He said that I was one of his very few friends. He said he preferred to stay in his own world, where he didn't have to face the noise of the world. Enjoy, this is his favorite English word, enjoy yourself, enjoy yourself. Only when you enjoy yourself is the time when you feel the strongest happiness.

On the road, he described his relationship with his dream this way. But he also admits that he does occasionally feel helpless and lonely.

He said that when he was chatting with several colleagues at this time last year, he accidentally mentioned that from now on, he was afraid that few people would be able to understand him.

My colleague replied, "Yes, you have become so weird, who can understand it." He smiled helplessly and said nothing. Fortunately, he never expected them to understand.

Forgive me, where is your dream? Do you still mention it to others now?

Me, my request is very simple. I will settle wherever the wind blows, and then wait for the wind to blow. The day it blows again. I don’t need the recognition of this noisy world, I will find a quiet paradise for myself.

It seems that we are indeed very similar. No wonder we became friends by chance so quickly.

He and I met while traveling. After two encounters, we decided to sit down and chat. When two grown men meet like old friends during a trip, it seems to give people a strange feeling. Fortunately, he and I don't really care.

He is a man who gave up his lucrative job and walked freely. This alone is enough to make people feel respected. He always carries drawing boards in his bag, ready to record moments that resonate with his soul.

He said that this was his current wish. Whenever he picked up the pen, a surge of power would surge up, as if the whole world belonged to him only. One day, when he was tired and no longer wanted to walk, he would stop in a certain street or square to send a souvenir to the travelers on the journey.

At this time, the night has become extremely deep, and there are only a few lonely people walking alone in the streets that were bustling during the day. I asked the landlady to bring me a few more bottles of wine. Even though my face was flushed under the influence of alcohol at this moment, and my heart was rising and falling rapidly as if I was about to jump out of my chest, I knew he must still have stories to tell.

A quiet person is willing to open his hidden heart only when he meets a like-minded stranger on the road. Because I know that we will never meet again after this time, and the person opposite is just another self in my heart.

It seems that this time I have to say all I have said for the year.

I am a civil servant, my parents, relatives and friends, and most of the people around me live under this system, so what I see in my world are always hypocritical faces. Nightclubs are the destination of this group of people, and feasting and feasting are the life of this group of us. At that time, I never felt that there was anything wrong with my numb self. The so-called dreams were just slogans shouted by those who were living in poverty and wanted to live a life like ours.

The rare boredom suppressed me that day. Instead of going to the magnificent place with my colleagues, I wandered to the seaside and walked aimlessly. Not far away, there was a woman who was painting against the sky with a drawing board. I walked over curiously, and it turned out that she was painting the sunset at this moment. Then I looked at the junction of the sea and the sky and realized that the sunset was so beautiful.

The sea breeze blew her long hair, revealing a clean but slightly pale face with a very serious look. Somehow there is a hint of sadness in her paintings.

The next day, while drinking cocktails with my colleagues in the magnificent hotel, I felt a sense of vomiting. I put down my glass and rushed to the beach. Fortunately, she is still here. This time she is painting a happy mother and daughter, and it is peaceful.

She told me that night that she was a leukemia patient and hoped to draw beautiful things before leaving this world, so that she would not feel lonely or forget this place when she gets to the other side. world. Although there was helplessness in her words, it was quickly annihilated by her expression of enjoyment. I stroked her hair, touched every inch of her thin body, and wondered how such power could come from this body. When I woke up in the morning, I told her to teach me how to paint.

From then on, I would go to see her every day after get off work. She said that the most important thing in painting is to bury emotions in the painting. Only in this way can a painting have human life and be a living painting. At night, I hugged her tightly, hoping that the power could penetrate her skin and give me a little bit of it.

Slowly, I saw the vulgar and shallow self hidden under the hormones, and the lifeless true heart under the hypocritical faces around me. From then on, I became More and more silent. A few months before she left, I quit my job and stayed with her all day long, until finally her body became cold and she was pushed into the morgue.

I picked up her drawing board and started walking on the road. From then on, I had a dream: to draw all the beautiful things to her, so that we would both be happy at the same time. She will never forget me, and I will never forget her.

He drank his last glass of wine.

Forgive me, thank you for the wine and thank you for listening. Goodbye.

I looked at his retreating back, feeling lonely, at least I was still myself.

I opened my bag, picked up a pen and notebook, and recorded this man's story.

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