Behind my hometown there lies a river. Seldom does anyone know where it comes from or goes to, for nobody seems to care about that. With no trees or flowers on the bank, the scenery isn’t attractive at all. Water comes and goes regularly every year, leaving only sand behind. It runs away as quietly as possible, as if knowing that louder noise wouldn’t draw more attention. This is the river, common and quiet.
To me, however, it was not common at all. In my senior school, with so much pressure in my studies，I felt at a loss from time to time. It was on a rainy afternoon that I encountered it for the first time when I had just lived through a miserable month in school. Immediately and naturally, I took the river as my special friend. Hour after hour, I sat there communicating with the river. Listening to my vexations in life and studies, it said nothing, but comforted me through its patience. I felt calm and relieved after pouring all my worries to it. Listening to the running water, I understood its loneliness and quietness as well. It seemed happier after I told it my understanding about being common and quiet. In this way, we got to know each other and helped one another.
Besides, whenever watching the sunset there, I sighed for the insignificance of individuals’ vexations. Just as the water ran away and never came back, history developed forward and nothing would ever happen again. What made one person significant was his contribution to the ongoing world. This was what I got from my special friend, which I will cherish for a lifelong time. |
