“剩月凄风里.清泪尽,纸灰起……”我怎么也没想到,在银幕上看过的这种镜头,如今在我身上上演。当我以喜悦的心情拆开家书,得知的却是父亲在两个月前就已去世的噩耗!我长跪于地,欲哭无泪。父亲的爱是座山,他的生养、教导之恩今生注定难以偿还。当我正念高一,却不顾父亲的劝阻,辍学打工,虚度光阴时,父亲将我从自感潇洒的天涯路送上从军征途;新兵下连时,当我被分到了炊事班时,父亲来信以一个老兵的身份告诉我当兵就要做革命的一块砖,哪里需要哪里搬,并说革命分工没有高低贵贱之分的道理;当我第一年就在报刊电台发表文 “The remaining months of cold wind. Clear tears, paper gray ... ...” I never imagined, seen on the screen of this lens, now staged in me. When I opened my family book with joy, I learned that it was the sad news of my father’s death two months ago. I was kneeling down and crying without tears. Father’s love is the mountain, his birth, the grace of teaching is doomed to be hard to repay. When I was a teacher of high school, but disregard his father’s discouragement, dropping out of school to work, when the moon wasted, my father from my smart way to send the army march; recruit next company, when I was assigned to the cooking class, my father letter As a veteran, I was told that a soldier should be a revolutionary brick, where do I need to move, and that there is no division of labor between high and low in the truth? When I first published a newspaper radio