年幼时,在每个布满繁星的夜晚,父亲都会为我朗读一段《一千零一夜》里面的故事。父亲是个寡言的人,白天工作很辛苦,但他为我讲述一个个奇幻故事的时候。脸上总是挂满笑容。时光飞逝。曾被我视如珍宝的那本《一千零一夜》早不见了踪影,父亲也不再兴致勃勃地为我描绘书中那个缤纷旖旎的世界……很多时候都是这样.随着知识的增长、视野的开阔.父亲在我们眼里俨然已不再那么博学多识。而或许有一天,当我们在不经意间发现自己与父亲心灵的距离竟越来越远 At a young age, in every starry night, my father would read a story for me for the “Arabian Nights”. My father is a reticent, working hard during the day, but he tells me a fantasy story. His face always covered with a smile. time flies. The “One Thousand and One Nights”, once regarded by me as treasure, have disappeared, and my father no longer happily portrayed me the colorful world of books ... And so often it is. Growth, broaden their horizons. Father in our eyes seems no longer so knowledgeable. And perhaps one day, when we inadvertently find ourselves farther and farther away from the heart of our father