星期天,下雨了。回家不能干农活,更不愿见亲朋故友的冷脸,你躲在学校窄小的办公室里备课、批改学生作业。该吃饭了,才发现火已被大雨浇灭。学校的厨房太简单了,用几根木头顶着几块石板。看来得回家拿干粮了,但这雨,唉！你无可奈何地站在校门口发呆。 突然,一个熟悉的人影映入你的眼帘:个子不高,弯腰驼背,步履蹒跚,撑一把破雨伞。近了,“是父 It is raining on Sunday. Home can not do farming, but do not want to see friends and relatives of the cold face, you hiding in a small office in the school lesson preparation, correcting student assignments. The meal, only to find that the fire has been extinguished by heavy rain. School kitchen is too simple, with a few pieces of wood with a few pieces of stone. Seems to go home to get dry food, but this rain, alas! You do nothing to stand in front of the school daze. Suddenly, a familiar figure reflected in your eyes: tall, hunched, hobbled, holding a broken umbrella. Near, "is the father