In middle school, with the growing love for literary works, I became more firm in my love for writing, and saw that the angel in my heart had appeared in the lines
我开始投稿,然而每次寄出的稿件如石沉大海,毫无音讯。我的写作梦想开始动摇,再加上成长的烦恼和生活挫折如潮水般袭来,我埋怨着命运不公,命运多舛,不再握笔作文,从此一蹶不振。
I began to contribute, but every time I sent out a manuscript, it was like a sea of stone, no news. My writing dream began to waver, coupled with growing pains and life setbacks like a tide, I complained about the unfair fate, ill fated, no longer writing, and never recovered.
那一天在电视上看到雕刻家把石头雕成美丽的天使,那一刻,我受到了前所未有的震撼:我手中的笔正是雕刻家的刻刀,我也应用笔这把“刻刀”雕出我心中的天使——我的梦想,我对生活的追求。
That day, I saw the sculptor carve the stone into a beautiful angel on the TV. At that moment, I was shocked as never before: the pen in my hand was the sculptor's knife, and I also used the pen to carve out the angel in my heart - my dream, my pursuit of life.
你看你看,天使的脸再一次清晰了……
You see, the face of the angel is clear again
我重新握起笔,挥洒我的激情,描绘我的理想。生活的阳光也开始向我投来新的微笑。
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