九月中旬的一个早晨，雨渐渐沥沥地落着。邮局里，我正往发稿信上一张张地贴邮票，一个怯生生的童音在身边响起：“叔叔，能买您一张邮票吗？售邮票的阿姨不在！”小女孩戴着一顶红帽，大约八、九岁，脸蛋红红的，一只小手里捏着张一元的钱币递向我。看着她那祈求的眼神，我不 One morning in mid-September, the rain fell slowly. In the post office, I was going to post a piece of paper on a postage stamp. A timid childish voice sounded around me: “Uncle, can you buy a stamp? Auntie who is selling stamps is not here!” The little girl wears a red Cap, about eight or nine years old, face red, a small hand holding Zhang Yiyuan coins handed me. Looking at her prayer, I do not