几年前,我坐在家乡的小板凳上,仰头凝望,星光扑面。那个时候,母亲睡在对面的山林里,父亲在屋内点着松针烧火,女儿坐在我的身边——我教她数漫天星斗,一颗,两颗,三颗??她的眼睛亮晶晶的,手里拿着一把忘忧草草茎折成的小棍子,仰着小小的脸,对这个人世充满了美好的期望。后来,听到一首老歌,唱的是“星星是 A few years ago, I sat on a small bench in my hometown, looking up and looking at the stars. At that time, my mother slept in the mountains opposite my father in the house lit pine needles, his daughter sitting beside me - I teach her the number of stars, one, two, three ?? her eyes sparkling, Holding a handful of forgetful grass and stem folded into sticks, raised his little face, this life is full of beautiful expectations. Later, I heard an old song, sing is ”the stars are