Colorful years

The most innocent and carefree days of childhood unfold slowly like a colorful and joyful painting, filled with carefree play and frolicking.

The children back then were innocent and carefree, enjoying the sunshine, rain, and a carefree life.

They ran through the lush green fields, chasing colorful butterflies; they frolicked by the crystal-clear stream, catching lively little fish and shrimp.

Those beautiful moments are like dazzling stars, embedded deep in my memory, shining brightly.

A person's life can be roughly divided into several stages: infancy, childhood, adolescence, youth, middle age, adulthood, and old age, each stage is given a different mission.

The carefree days of childhood will eventually come to an end without us even realizing it. When children reach the age of seven, it's time for them to go to school.

"Someone sewed your schoolbag; someone gave you the folding umbrella in your hand..." Whenever this familiar and touching song plays in her ears, Congcong's thoughts flutter like a light butterfly, drifting back to those unforgettable days when she first entered school.

In Congcong's mind, those precious memories of going to school are still vivid, as if they happened just yesterday. In those innocent and carefree years, the beginning of each new school year was like the first ray of warm sunshine in spring, gently caressing the earth and quietly unveiling the mysterious veil of a new treasure trove of knowledge.

With joy and anticipation, the children, carrying their brand-new schoolbags, walked briskly into the school, where they were greeted by the warm smiles of their new teachers and classmates.

However, many people may not know that the rule we are familiar with today, that the school year starts in the fall, actually originated from a major change after 1978.

Let's go back to 1977, a year that was a landmark year for the entire country—the resumption of the college entrance examination system.

At this crucial historical moment, a highly respected leader, with just a seemingly casual yet profound statement, stirred up a thousand waves, quickly leading universities across the country to respond and jointly usher in a new era of autumn enrollment.

In order to align with the university admission schedule, primary and secondary schools have also adjusted their schedules, changing the traditional spring semester to the autumn semester.

Before you knew it, the clock had quietly struck eight, but Congcong was still fast asleep.

Is he sick? No, today is Congcong's first day at school. How could he be late? How could he not leave a good first impression on the teacher?

Filled with worry, Shi Daya gently pushed open the door to Congcong's cozy little room and called out in a soft and affectionate tone, "Congcong, it's time to get up and greet the new day."

Hearing his mother's familiar and warm voice, Congcong seemed to be awakened by a magical force. He jolted awake and sat up in bed.

He rubbed his sleepy eyes, his cheeks slightly flushed, and said shyly, "Mom, I'm so sorry, I overslept."

Last night, Congcong lay in bed, his heart pounding like a deer, unable to calm down for a long time.

That's because he was eagerly anticipating the start of his campus life. His thirst for knowledge and his longing for campus life kept him in a state of indescribable excitement.

The excitement gradually subsided late at night, and he finally drifted off to sleep.

However, perhaps because I was too eager to greet the new day and embark on that academic journey full of unknowns and surprises, I unknowingly missed the morning while I was asleep.

When he groggily opened his eyes and looked at the faint morning light filtering through the window, he couldn't help but feel a little annoyed.

But then he remembered his mother's words of advice that morning: "It's not too late to get up now. Hurry up and get dressed, wash up and eat, and then go to school happily."

These words seemed to possess magical power, instantly dispelling the gloom in his heart and allowing him to cheer up again.

As she spoke, Shi Daya handed over a khaki Zhongshan suit. It was a brand-new school uniform that her father, Zhang Zhong, had carefully prepared for his son with the money he earned from digging up gourds in the deep mountains and forests and selling them.

This garment not only carries the father's deep love and expectations, but for Congcong, it is also a precious gift, a source of honor and confidence that allows him to stand tall in front of his classmates.

Congcong carefully took the clothes, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

He hadn't worn such brand-new clothes for two years, and that long-lost feeling welled up in his heart, filling him with warmth and emotion.

He hugged his clothes tightly, feeling the love and care from his family, and couldn't help but exclaim from the bottom of his heart, "Going to school is so good!"

After breakfast, Mom took out the new schoolbag she had carefully sewn, a masterpiece she had painstakingly created stitch by stitch over countless nights.

"Come on, child, put on your schoolbag and go to school to learn more!" Mother's gentle words rang in Congcong's ears, as melodious as heavenly music.

Congcong happily picked up his schoolbag, the heavy hope it carried made him feel a sense of responsibility and mission.

Since the new books were to be distributed at school, my schoolbag was empty except for two brand-new pencils and a clean eraser. It was like a blank sheet of paper waiting to be written on, full of infinite possibilities and hopes.

With this expectation and anticipation in mind, Congcong strode briskly toward the school.

He knew that a new day was about to begin there, and that he would roam freely, explore, and grow in this ocean of knowledge.

The school stood quietly on the majestic hill north of the commune's supply and marketing cooperative, as if nature had specially chosen it as a tranquil and solemn place to rest.

Viewed from a distance, it resembles a mysterious castle hidden in the mountains and forests, with rolling, layered mountains behind it, giving people a sense of solemnity and tranquil sublimity.

Its eastern neighbor is the bustling commune compound, separated by only a narrow path, as if it were the boundary between two worlds of noise and tranquility.