穿过纷纷扬扬的春雨,转眼又到一年一度的清明时节! 清明让人清醒。小的时候,每到清明,父亲总带着我回老家去拜祭先祖。当他合上凝重的双眼,将杯子里的酒洒在坟头的石碑上时,我常用自己稚嫩的双手替爷爷、替爷爷的爷爷……梳理着“额头”上的青发。长大了, 当我读着《孔子》、《孟子》, Through the raging spring rain, the blink of an eye once again to the annual Qingming Festival! Qingming makes people sober. Small time, every Ching Ming, my father always took me back home to worship ancestors. When he closed his dignified eyes and spilled the cup of wine on the tombstone of the grave, I often used my innocent hands for my grandfather and my grandpa’s grandfather ... to sort out the green hair on my forehead. Grow up, when I read “Confucius”, “Mencius”