一直以为,同代人中我是最后一个使用煤油灯的人。我像在坚守一种信仰一样,固执地做一个煤油灯的守卫者。我上中学的时候,蜡烛已经进入了千家万户,取代了煤油灯的地位。可是我依然用煤油灯,即使它土气丑陋,光亮微弱,却依然能够点亮我的夜晚。我从小跟奶奶一起长大,晚上,她在煤油灯下做针线活,时常会回过头来冲我笑笑。她的眼神那么慈爱温暖,昏黄的灯光下,一切都那么温馨。奶奶教我做煤油灯,我很快就学会了。我找来一个空墨水瓶,把上面的盖子换成坚硬的金属盖子。然后,我在金属盖子上钻一个小孔,把长条的棉絮穿 I always thought that among the contemporaries I was the last one to use a kerosene lamp. Like a faith, I stubbornly made a kerosene lamp guard. When I was in high school, the candles had entered every household, replacing the status of kerosene lamps. But I still use kerosene lamps, even if it is ugly rustic, weak, but still able to light my night. I grew up with my grandmother. In the evening, she made needlework under the kerosene lamp and often smiled back at me. Her eyes so warm and warm, dim light, everything is so warm. Grandma taught me to make kerosene lamp, I quickly learned. I got an empty ink bottle and replaced the top cover with a hard metal cover. Then, I made a small hole in the metal lid and wears long strips of cotton wool