I miss my childhood.

Childhood contains my feelings, childhood is my love, and childhood is a smiling face that I can show when I think of it in my dreams. Childhood is a story that pops out of grandpa's bearded mouth. Childhood is a cry when he and his sister compete for something. Childhood is a slap raised by my father when he pretends to be angry. Childhood is the boiled egg that my mother stuffed in my pocket on my birthday. Childhood is to envy your partner's new clothes, and childhood is to show off your report card in the village. Childhood is the salty water at home, and childhood is the braid of my sister next door. She holds my feelings, she is tied with my love, and she is the smiling face in my dream. Childhood is a basket of sparrows standing in the snow, and childhood is the companion of several light eggs who can vaguely remember their appearance by the village pond. Childhood is maltose stirred up by two sticks for 2 cents, and childhood is a yellow-billed sparrow egg pulled out under the eaves. Childhood is the Black Dragon Pool on a hundred acres of water in Wang Yang, north of the village, and childhood is the lotus petals secretly picked while herding sheep at the Black Dragon Pool. She holds my love, and she is tied to my love, which makes me feel full of energy and no longer have any sadness. Childhood is stealing sweet potatoes and roasting grasshoppers after the autumn harvest, and childhood was once a black nose in memory. Childhood is greedy white steamed bread, and childhood is sesame oil and salt dug in steamed bread. Childhood is hot soup in my hometown, and childhood is corn flour that I hate but often eat. Childhood is corn flour with peanut petals, and childhood is an indispensable green frozen garlic in winter. She holds my feelings, she is tied with my love, which is the driving force for my growth and the source of my life. Childhood is a card hidden in a brick hole in the wall, and childhood is a lost quadrangle. Childhood is a ballad in the depths of the alley, and childhood is a kite flying in the wheat field at the entrance of the village. Childhood is a musket made of bicycle chain, and childhood is a year waiting for after Laba. Childhood is a noodle oil lamp that Yuan Xiao secretly ate in front of his neighbor's door, and childhood is a sleepless night of hide-and-seek in Mid-Autumn Festival. She took my affection and tied my love like a magic wand, which instantly rejuvenated me and changed my appearance. Childhood is the warmth that I can't give up. It keeps me away from trivial matters and disputes, and I want to be selfless in my heart. Childhood is an unforgettable memory, which taught me to be sober, independent and indomitable. Childhood is lying in the summer night sky, listening to the legend of morning glory and weaver girl, thinking about the distant stars. Childhood is when I sleep in the fields and look after crops. Childhood is the fire in the depths of memory, and childhood is the initial flame of life. She maintains my feelings, she is tied to my love, and she is the starting point of my life, which makes me have a heart of heaven and earth and full of passion for the people. Childhood is pure, childhood is real, childhood is happy, happy, the starting point of dreams, and the spiritual harbor for healing after grievances. Childhood is the root, childhood is a dream, and childhood is the eternal tie of carefree me. She holds my feelings, and she holds my love, so that I can live bravely and have love without regrets. I miss my childhood.