“我的信刊登啦!”我打开编辑部寄来的第9期《作文选》,高兴地跳起来叫着。同学们都争着要看。我激动得流泪了,多少个日夜,我终于盼到了。我开始相信自己,山里孩子一样可以把心声带给同龄人。记得那是在一天午饭后,偶然看见一位同学拿着一本《全国中学优秀作文选》,便觉得有点好奇。可当我伸手向他借阅时,却迎来一句冷漠的话:“你怎么好意思?自己不买,光看别人的。”说者无意,听者却永远记在心里,“等着瞧吧,总有一天我会拥有一份的!”但当我把手伸向父母时,又缩了回来。自己的家好似干裂大地需要雨水的滋润,哪还能让他们更多地付出? “My letter has been published!” I opened the 9th “essay selection” sent by the editorial office and happily jumped and called. Students are eager to see. I was in tears with excitement. How many days and nights I finally hoped for. I began to believe in myself that children in the mountains can bring their aspirations to their peers. I remember that it was after a day of lunch that I happened to see a classmate who was holding a “National Excellent Composition Selection for Secondary Schools” and I felt a little curious. But when I borrowed my hand to borrow him, I received an indifferent remark: “How do you feel so anxious? You don’t buy it, just look at someone else’s.” The speaker doesn’t mean, but the listener always remembers in his heart. "Let’s wait and see. One day I will have one!” But when I reached my parents, I retreated. Their own homes are like chaffing the earth and need the moisture of the rain, which can make them pay more?