I went out from the school. It’s snowy. I went back home. I had readied the << The king of china >> this article. Always around my mind. I asked my self: are you the young king? No, I’m not. Olden time, father education to me was shown up. A gust of wind is blowing. A piece of snow is drops it in to my collar. Let me remember the story of the winter. I was eight. Our school goes to visit the Shi JIA ZHANG mausoleum. My grandmother afraid to froze me. She asked my father sent a car to take me. My father didn’t agree. I dissatisfied cry and run away. When we visit ended. Under the snow up there were numerous. I saw a lot of parents take there children. I hate my father is a grim. Teacher lids the students of the rest. I walk against the wind and cloudy hardly. Suddenly, my father free special car drives by my side. So I shouted: father ………
the car stopped. Father bends down and looked at my face. He pats the snow from my body, pulled my clothes. I thought my father must be promise me. The students came up. My father came up too. Smile said. Miss Zhang. Your whole students are not afraid cold, really strong. My teacher looks at me. My teacher said: they all like to learn from brave martyr. Right? My father asked me. I agree nod. Director of the bureau. You must let.....................
The driver’s conversation is not over yet my father said quickly. Let he walk back home. Because he is not scared cold is a brave boy. Suddenly, my face turned red. My father’s words make me feel guilty. I said embarrassingly. Father, you go away.
Three years were gone. Now I thought my father was right. My father makes me know a lot...
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