在我记忆的小河中,有数不清的故事,其中有一件既使我羞愧,又使我难忘。那年冬天,妈妈让我去买包子,我下了楼,看见一个卖包子的人。那个人带着一顶帽子,额头上有一个深深的“三”字,眼睛里布满血丝,穿着一双胶鞋。他年龄不算太大,但是满脸的皱纹却掩盖了他的年龄,生活的重担压弯了他的腰。他用沙哑的声音问:“小姑娘,你要买几个包子呀?” There are countless stories in my memory of the river, and one of them made me both ashamed and unforgettable. That winter in winter, my mother asked me to buy buns, and I went downstairs and saw a man selling buns. The man with a hat, his forehead has a deep “three” word, bloodshot eyes, wearing a pair of shoes. He was not too old, but his face wrinkles covered his age, and the burden of life bent over his waist. He asked in a husky voice: “Little girl, do you want to buy some buns?”