说到童年,我就想到花的烂漫、水的纯洁;谈起领袖,我想到了山的高大,塔的伟岸;而追忆起领袖的童年,我却不禁想到了油灯的暗淡和茶叶的苦涩,就在想起散发着暗淡弱光的油灯的一刹那,我的脑海中强烈而清晰地浮现出一位少年在油灯下苦读的身影,一幕幕白色恐怖的情景历历在目……在那 Speaking of childhood, I think of the blooming flowers, the purity of the water; talking about the leader, I thought of the tall mountains, towering stalks; and recalled the leader’s childhood, I can not help but think of the bleak oil lamp and the bitterness of tea, Reminiscent of the dim light exudes the moment of light, my mind strongly and clearly emerge a teenager studying under the oil lamps, scene scenes of white horror vividly ... ... in that