立题时,已是午夜,清晨来临时又会是一个全新的星期一,忽然间,从书的扉页抖落下一张旧旧的明信片,邮戳印有儿时的年代,那是一张留藏多年的明信片,涂满稚嫩的字迹,仿佛是从童年里寄来的,好怀念,多少美丽的回忆都珍藏在那个绚丽的童年,孩子,多好,无忧无虑,童真无邪。徜徉着对校园的渴望,萦绕在老师的身边,仿佛她就是无边的花海,包纳甜蜜而又无私的爱,仿佛她就是泉,涓涓溪水流淌出无穷的答案,老师好伟岸,儿时的心里珍 It is already midnight at the beginning of the debate, and it will be a brand new Monday when the morning comes. Suddenly, an old postcard will be shaken off from the title page of the book. The postmark is printed on a childhood, Postcards, painted immature handwriting, as if sent from childhood, so miss, how many beautiful memories are stored in that brilliant childhood, children, good, carefree, innocent children. Desperate for the desire of the school, linger in the teacher’s side, as if she is boundless flowers, sweet and selfless love, as if she is the spring, trickle streams flowing endless answers, good teachers shore, childhood Heart Jane