我问自己:“你对字的敬畏,开始于什么时候呢?”沿着记忆的小路往回走,来到一个村庄,名字就叫:童年。油漆斑驳的檐柱上,贴着一张红纸告示,上面写着四个字:敬惜字纸。记得小时候,小镇上有一位老人,每天都背着一个大竹篓,出没在街头巷尾。她佝偻着身子,用手里的火钳 I asked myself: “When did you start your awestruck word?” “Going back along the path of memory, you come to a village called” Childhood. " Paint mottled eaves column, close to a red paper notice, which says four words: King paper. I remember a child, an elderly man in the town, carrying a big bamboo basket every day, haunting in the streets. She shrugged her body with the tongs in her hand