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步入中年,几乎每个人的心灵深处,都印刻着这样一幅画面:朗朗的星空下或摇曳的烛光旁,幼小的自己依偎在妈妈或奶奶怀中,入神地听着一个又一个动人的故事。或许是凶恶的大灰狼,或许是美丽的小公主,或许是蠢笨的地主和机智的长工,或许是英勇善战的八路军和惨无人道的日本鬼子……听着听着,孩子进入了梦乡;听着听着,孩子在慢慢成长……繁忙紧张的现代人都在忙碌着大事业,那些美丽的故事便蒙上了灰尘,静静地躺在脑海深处。
Into middle age, almost everyone’s soul, are engraved with such a picture: Lang Lang under the stars or swaying candlelight, the young one nestled in the arms of her mother or grandmother, attentively listening one after another moving s story. Perhaps the wicked wolf, perhaps a beautiful little princess, maybe a stupid landlord and witty foreman, perhaps the brave and fierce Eighth Route Army and the inhuman Japanese devils ... Listening, the children went to sleep; Listen Listen, the children are slowly growing ... ... Busy and tense modern people are busy with big business, those beautiful stories will be dusty, quietly lying in my mind.