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The end of a story is also a new beginning

A while ago, a friend asked me, "You like literature so much, what exactly is literature?" Two days ago I attended a book launch conference for a best-selling children's book that has won the Caldecott Medal twice. Author Sophie Blackall signs copies of her new book Hello Light House. I think you can find the answer to your friend’s doubts.

The story unfolds like this: On a high rocky island, there is a lighthouse. A new lampkeeper comes on duty to replace the old lampkeeper. The arrival of the new lightkeeper gives the lighthouse a new look. He carefully replaced the lamp oil with new oil, wiped all the glass, and trimmed the wicks of the candles on each table. At night, while listening to the whistling wind outside the window, he wrote in his diary. The sea breeze blew to welcome the new lightkeeper; the waves came and embraced the entire lighthouse; the whales swam over and circled around the lighthouse. The supply ship came, bringing food, lamp oil, and his fiancée to the lampkeeper. Soon they were married and the two began working on the lighthouse together. Suddenly one day, disaster struck, and a small boat hit the rocks. The situation was urgent, and the lightkeeper risked his life and rescued all the crew members who fell into the water. Life returned to normal and they had a baby. The lampkeeper's wife was lying on the bed, with the child cuddled next to her. The lampkeeper leaned against the bed with a fairy tale book and told stories to the mother and daughter. The sea surface froze, and then the weather warmed and the ice surface gradually dispersed, and it passed like this for several years.

One day, the lightkeeper received a letter, and an engineer quickly came to the tower and powered on the lighthouse - the lightkeeper knew that his mission was about to end. On the day of departure, seagulls hovered at the top of the lighthouse, and there was no movement on the sea. Everything was quiet until the lightkeeper's family's boat set off. The ripples on the sea, with the lighthouse as the center, ripple outward in circles, as if saying goodbye to the lightkeeper for the last time. On a high rocky island, there stands a lighthouse. The fog rises and recedes; the tide rises and recedes; the wind blows back and forth, as if to greet this new lighthouse. The whole sea is surrounded by new lighthouses. Under the aura. Not far away from the lighthouse, a beam of light suddenly shines on the lighthouse. Not far away, the lightkeeper's family has settled in their new home and is looking towards the lighthouse with a lantern.

The story ends here? With this question in mind, I lined up to get Sophie's autograph. The queue was very long. From the beginning to the end, almost all of them were parents leading their seven or eight-year-old children. The children pointed at the illustrations in the book and clamored to buy them. Parents without children crowded in front of Sophie and rushed to buy. Have her sign their children's names. My eyes returned to the book, Hello, Lighthouse. Looking at the children who were protected by their parents, my heart suddenly trembled. Isn't this about me? When it was my turn to sign, Sophie lowered her head and asked how I spelled my name. "I want to write to my parents, because I feel like I am like that lighthouse, and they are like the guardians of the lighthouse." Sophie slowly put down the pen and raised her head, unable to express herself for a moment. I continued, "As the lighthouse grew, it turned into a cocoon and turned into a butterfly. It was equipped with a new system, but it became farther and farther away from the lightkeeper. The lighthouse faced strong winds, heavy rain, and huge waves alone, but he was not afraid. Because He knew that not far away, there was a beam of light shining from behind him, and someone was caring about him. He was the lampkeeper and our dear parents. ”

Although Sophie’s story. It ended, but my story began right after. After listening to a story or reading a paragraph of text, the moment of silence, I think, is the charm of literature. Because that will be the end of one story and the beginning of a new one.