Winston Churchill liked collecting toy tin soldiers best when he was a child. He has nearly 65,438+0,500 tin soldiers, organized like an infantry division and in charge of a cavalry brigade. Xiao Xibing changed his life ambition. From then on, his hope was to be admitted to Sandhurst Royal Military Academy. Later, he was drafted into the army with his childhood dream, and gradually showed his military talents in the army, and thus gradually became a famous British politician. In his autobiography "My Early Life", he said with deep feelings: "If I didn't have the ambition to command the army when I was a child, I wouldn't have the ability to lead troops to fight in military life."
Churchill's success in life is largely due to the continuation of his childhood dream in his chosen career. As Einstein said: "Continuing childhood dreams in your career can combine your career with your hobbies, which is conducive to becoming a powerful internal driving force and mobilizing all your enthusiasm and passion into your career, thus winning success."
The process of success should be tense and busy, and you can feel the joy and satisfaction from the heart-a process of enjoying the pleasure of creation. If we only have a sense of hardship, it means that we have chosen the wrong direction of struggle and cannot achieve real success. Heine was particularly fond of literature when he was still in middle school, but his mother insisted that he go into business. He had no interest in business, and soon the store closed down. His mother asked him to study law again, but he also gave up halfway. Later, he decided to give up his childhood dream and engage in poetry creation, eventually becoming an outstanding German poet.
When we are faced with the choice of life, we must not be tempted by fashionable occupations, bound by secular concepts, or influenced by herd mentality. We should still listen to our inner call, pick up our childhood dreams and do what we love! Only in this way is the shortcut to success.
The distance is far and the mountain is high.
Wang Guozhen
Shouting is an outbreak of silence.
Silence is a silent call.
Excited or not.
Still very quiet.
I pray
As long as it's not boring.
If you call me from a distance
I will towards the distant.
If the mountain calls me
I walked to the mountain.
Wear out your feet.
Simply let the sunset smear the road again.
Grab your hand.
Turn thorns into azaleas.
There is no longer road than feet.
There is no mountain higher than man.
(Excerpted from Dialogue with Wang Guozhen, International Culture Publishing Company 199 1 Edition)
Appreciation: The mountain is high and the road is far, which is the representative work of Wang Guozhen's poetry. This poem expresses an enterprising, persistent, optimistic and confident emotion, and shows the fighting, enterprising, high-spirited and uplifting spirit of contemporary youth, and draws a clear line with those decadent voices moaning without illness and those empty and boring rhetoric poems. It inspires people and gives them healthy and upward spiritual guidance, thus winning the love of the vast number of teenagers. Lyric way, mainly through talking about images to express feelings. Discussion is the main means of lyricism here, but it is different from those dry sermons. It turns abstract thinking into a novel and beautiful image every second, and implies emotion in the discussion of the image. In writing, these poems are easily accepted by readers in plain language. The main idea of this poem is all condensed in the last two sentences: "There is no road longer than feet/no mountain higher than people". The mountain is high and the road is long, but everyone can reach it, which vividly and implicitly reveals people's subjective initiative. In fact, it also emphasizes a spirit, an optimistic, enterprising, persistent and confident attitude towards life.
Flying dandelion
When I was a child, in early summer, I often went to the hillside behind the hut with my mother. Clusters of flaming Du Peng, goose yellow winter jasmine and lilacs are blooming on the hillside ... I am happy to clap my hands and jump to pick these colorful flowers, but my mother always gently takes me to the other side of the hillside, where white flowers are blooming. Flowers are interesting: round heads and white fluff. When the wind blows, they fly lightly, fly, fly high. I had a hard time catching a small white flower flying in the air.
Mother said, "This is dandelion. It is never satisfied to stay in a remote corner. It likes to travel to the outside world. "
My mother's words left a deep impression on my young mind. At night, I often dream that I have become a white dandelion, floating in the vast world.
Soon, I went to primary school, and my mother sewed me a flower bag. There are several white dandelions embroidered on the bag, and the words "flying dandelion" are embroidered obliquely next to the flowers. Every day I am like a happy dandelion, flying around on the mountain road from the cabin to the school.
One windy evening, I ran home from school and happily dragged my mother to the hillside covered with dandelions. I sang the children's song "Dandelion Seed" just taught by my teacher to my mother. I jumped from dandelion to dandelion while drinking, and white flowers floated gently into the sky in my singing. My mother looked a little excited, her eyes were bright, and she flew away with the little white flower affectionately.
From my mother's eyes, I seem to see my usual dream at night: a white dandelion, blown by the breeze, flying over the ancient hut, the dense forest and the golden sunshine. ...
With this white dream, I was admitted to middle school. The flower schoolbag embroidered with dandelion is worn out. For several nights, my mother put the flower bag on the table and looked at it for a long time. Later, my mother looked at the oil lamp and made me a blue dress with a white dandelion embroidered on it. I wear a blue dress every day and fly around the main roads and mountain villages of the school.
A few years later, an admission notice from a distant place made my dream about dandelion more real. One evening before leaving, the wind was very strong, and my mother and I unconsciously came to the hillside behind the hut. Dandelions on the hillside fly higher than before. My eyes widened in surprise, and my mother stood not far from me with tears in her eyes. As dusk grew, my mother and I walked back silently. When I arrived at the cabin, my mother took my hand and said softly, "Son, you are a flying dandelion, but you have to fly higher."
From then on, I firmly remembered my mother's words and began to fly around the tree-lined path of the university.
A year later, I sent a poem that flew into newspapers and magazines from a tree-lined path to my mother in the mountains, and wrote a paragraph: "Mom, the delicate dandelion that flew past you not only learned to fly, but also knew how to fly higher."
Soon, my mother wrote back with a watercolor painting: under a blue sky, it was a hillside full of white dandelions. There is a line on the painting: children in the mountains.
From this painting, I read my mother's sincere yearning-
Under the blue sky, groups of children, with bright eyes, stared at the white dandelion on the hillside and sang happily: I am the seed of dandelion. ...
Isn't this the picture that every mother is looking forward to?
Shannaobian
Tide (Wang Jiaxin)
In the moonlight
The sea surges with the tide of love.
The closer the moon is to the earth.
The more the sea churns.
Layer after layer of tides.
Rush to the beach.
Trying to find ......
The moon blushed with shame.
-although the sea didn't.
Gently suck her lips.
sea
Just from the flow of the moon
Got a deep motivation.
The snow-white tide of love
A quarrel began.
One row fell down again.
-So back and forth.
Life and growth in nature
However, to get close to the moon.
But it's impossible.
-The sea knows this.
So I put the beautiful image of the moon
Was quietly taken back to the bottom of the sea.
Like a shell that breeds pearls.
Sandwich a grain of sand.
Then close it tightly.
-Only open to tidal observers.
Leave an eternal mystery
This is silence.
It's acquiescence again