6岁。操场上,一个小男孩学着骑车,旁边站着他的父亲。没有一句指导,没有一丝安慰,小男孩自然是摔了又摔,双腿早已是鲜血淋漓。终于,孩子坐在地上,哭了,哇哇大哭。父亲依旧是那么笔挺地站着,眼中满是不屑与冷漠。孩子多么渴望爸爸的鼓励。没有;孩子多么渴望爸爸的拥抱,还是没有。只是那双空洞的眼睛,让孩子感到冷酷与无情。终于,孩子不哭了,倔强地站起来,跨上车,开 6 years old. On the playground, a little boy learns to ride a bicycle, next to his father. Without a guide, there is no trace of comfort, the little boy is naturally fell and fell, legs already bloody. Finally, the child sat on the ground, crying, crying loudly. His father is still standing so straight, eyes full of disdain and indifference. How much the child longs for his father’s encouragement. No; how much the child crave dad’s hug, or not. Only those empty eyes, let the child feel cold and heartless. Finally, the child does not cry, stubbornly stand up, cross the car, open