◆ Ji Bolun
In the quiet garden, a violet grows. She has beautiful little eyes and delicate petals. She lives among female companions, content with her petite figure and swinging happily in the dense grass.
One morning, she looked up with a crown made of dew and looked around. She found an elegant rose, so elegant and handsome, reminiscent of a jade candlestick with a bright red flame.
Violet opened her sky-blue mouth, sighed and said:
"I am so humble in the grass that I can hardly see me in other flowers. Nature makes me so small and pathetic. I grew up close to the ground, unable to touch the blue sky and turn my face to the sun, just like a rose. "
Ross at his side heard violet, smiled and trembled, and then said:
"How stupid you are! You have no idea about your own happiness. Nature has given you beauty, fragrance and exquisiteness that other flowers rarely give. Get rid of the wrong ideas and fantasies about space and be satisfied with your destiny. You know, meekness will make you strong, and whoever asks too much will lose everything. "
Violet replied:
"Oh, Rose, you come to comfort me, because you have everything I can only imagine. You are so beautiful that you whitewash my smallness with clever words. But what do those happy comforts mean to the unfortunate people? The strong who preach to the weak are always cruel! "
Nature was surprised to hear the dialogue between roses and violets, so she asked loudly:
"Oh, daughter, what's the matter with you, my violet? I know you have always been humble and patient, you are gentle and docile, you are poor and noble. Are you conquered by empty wishes and meaningless pride? "
Violet answered her in a pleading voice:
"Oh, you are omnipotent and compassionate, my mother! I am full of warmth and hope to ask you to grant my request and turn me into a rose, even if it is only for one day! "
Nature says:
"You don't know what you are asking for. You don't understand, there are unpredictable disasters hidden behind the glamorous appearance. When I lengthen your torso, change your appearance and turn you into a rose, you will regret it. However, at that time, regret will not help. "
Violet replied:
"Oh, turn me into a rose! Become a tall rose and hold your head high proudly! No matter what happens in the future, I will bear it myself! "
So, nature says:
"Oh, stupid and disobedient violet, I satisfy your wish! However, if misfortune and disaster suddenly befall you, it's your own fault! "
Nature reached out her invisible finger and touched the root of the violet-in an instant, the violet became a blooming rose, standing above all the fragrance.
In the afternoon, the sky suddenly clouded, rolled up a whirlwind, thunder rumbled, and countless armies composed of strong winds and heavy rains suddenly attacked the garden; Their attack broke branches, twisted stems and uprooted proud flowers. There is nothing left in the garden except those flowers that cling to the ground and live forever or hide in cracks in rocks. That quiet garden suffered more disasters than other gardens.
When the wind is clear, the flowers will die-they are scattered all over the garden like dust, except the violets hiding by the fence. They were safe and sound after the storm.
Violet looked up. Seeing the flowers and trees, she smiled happily and called her companion:
"Look, what the storm has done to those conceited flowers!"
Another violet said:
"We grow close to the ground. We escaped the anger of the storm. "
The third strain shouted:
"We are too fragile. But the tornado didn't beat us! "
At this moment, the purple queen looked around and suddenly saw a rose that was a violet yesterday. The storm pulled her up from the soil, and the strong wind swept away her petals and left her on the wet grass. She was lying on the ground, like a person who was shot by an enemy arrow.
The purple queen straightened up, unfolded the small leaves of the baiji and called her girlfriends to say:
"Look, look, my daughters! Looking at this violet, in order to show off her beauty, she wants to become a rose, even for an hour. Let this scene be a lesson for you. "
The dying rose sighed, concentrated her last strength and answered in a weak voice:
"Listen to me, you stupid and humble flowers. Listen, storms and tornadoes have frightened you! Yesterday, like you, I hid in the green grass and was content with my fate. This satisfaction gave me shelter in the storm of life. The meaning of my whole existence is contained in this sense of security. I never ask for a little more peace and enjoyment than this humble existence. Oh, I could have grown close to the ground like you, waiting for winter to cover me with snow, and then I could accept the peace of death and emptiness with you. However, I can only do this. If I don't know the secret of life, this is an unknown violet race. Once upon a time, I could suppress all my wishes and not think about those unique flowers. But I listened to the silence of the night, and I heard the higher world say to our world,' The purpose of life is to pursue something higher and farther than life.' At this time, my heart can't help but resist myself. My heart longs to rise higher than myself. Finally, I held back. I pursue something that I have never had before. Until my anger turned into strength, my yearning turned into the will to create. At that time, I asked nature-you know, nature is just a reflection of some of our secret fantasies-and I asked her to turn me into a rose. She did it. Just as she often changes her designs and sketches with her admiring and encouraging fingers! "
Ross was silent for a moment, then added with pride and superiority:
"I made roses for an hour, and I spent them like a queen. I observe the universe with rose eyes. I listened to the whispers of the sky with rose ears. I have felt the change of light and rose leaves. Can you find someone who has been so honored? "
Rose looked down, already out of breath, said:
"I'm dying. I'm dying, but I have a feeling in my heart that Violet has never experienced. I'm dying, that is, I know what lies behind the limited life I live. This is the meaning of life. This is the essence, the essence behind the opportunity of day or night! "
Ross rolled up her leaves, sighed softly, and died. There is an extraordinary smile on her face-the smile when the ideal is realized, the smile of victory, and the smile of God.