Colorful years

Congcong listened to his mother's teachings, and a deep sense of emotion and pride welled up inside him.

He knew he had made a wise choice and upheld his inner beliefs and moral principles.

He gently cradled the sparrow eggs in his hands, as if they were priceless treasures, and carefully climbed down from the tree.

Upon reaching the tree, he gently placed the sparrow eggs on the ground. Then, he looked up at the blue sky and saw the mother sparrow anxiously circling on the branch, seemingly searching for something.

He called softly, "Mother Sparrow, your child is here!"

As if understanding Congcong's call, the mother sparrow quickly flew to his side.

When it saw the unharmed sparrow eggs, its eyes instantly lit up with surprise and gratitude.

It quickly snatched the sparrow egg and happily flapped its wings to fly to the branch.

Watching the mother sparrow lead her children away happily, Congcong felt a deep sense of satisfaction and joy.

He knew he had made the right decision and made up for his previous mistake. Turning to look at his mother, a bright smile bloomed on his face.

Looking at Congcong's satisfied and joyful smile, his mother felt a sense of relief and pride.

She gently stroked Congcong's head and said lovingly, "Good boy! You did a great job! Mom is so proud of you!"

Congcong listened to his mother's praise, a warm feeling welling up inside him. He knew that he had not only gained his mother's understanding and support, but also received the gratitude and recognition of Sparrow Mother.

He looked up at the tall osmanthus tree and thought to himself: Perhaps this is a clever arrangement of fate! Giving me the opportunity to make such a choice and uphold such a belief.

The next day, the sun shone brightly, as if nature had specially prepared a gift for the upcoming Saturday.

The midday sun streamed through the window lattice into the classroom, creating dappled patterns of light and shadow.

The three classes in the morning have been successfully completed, and the two classes in the afternoon are labor classes that are both anticipated and somewhat special.

Under normal circumstances, schools will send all students home to do manual labor.

Standing on the podium, Mr. Hu, the homeroom teacher, solemnly and earnestly assigned tasks to the students. His deep and powerful voice echoed in every corner of the classroom: "Students, today's labor class is mainly about collecting cow dung at home. No matter how much you collect, you must hand it over to the production team. When you come to school, remember to bring the production team's certificate to prove your labor results."

At this moment, everyone seemed to feel a special sense of responsibility, as if they were not just picking up handfuls of cow dung, but also faithfully practicing the teachings of the great leader.

The great leader once said, "Education must be combined with productive labor." In rural areas, this concept has been most vividly interpreted, and labor classes are an important way to put this concept into practice, mainly arranging activities related to learning about and helping farmers.

During the off-season for farming, labor classes would organize students to collect cow dung, tung seeds, and other seemingly insignificant but meaningful tasks.

These small actions not only contribute to the production team, but also allow students to personally experience the hardship and value of labor.

During the busy farming season, the labor class would organize students to actively participate in various labor activities of the production team, working alongside the farmers to experience the joy of harvest and the power of labor.

Congcong returned home, filled with excitement and anticipation.

He gently put down his schoolbag, as if he had unloaded a heavy academic burden.

"Congcong, why did you get out of school so early today?" Grandpa asked in surprise, his eyes full of doubt. He put down his work and looked at Congcong, eagerly awaiting his answer.

"Hey, the last two periods are labor classes. The teacher specifically asked us to go home and collect cow dung." Congcong's eyes darted around as he quickly answered his grandfather's question, his face beaming with pride, as if he had accomplished a difficult task.

Then, without saying a word, the grandfather and grandson quickly walked out of the house, their feet barely touching the ground, and soon arrived at the familiar pigsty.

Grandpa bent down slightly, stretched out his rough but strong hands, gently picked up the dustpan and manure rake, and handed them to Congcong: "Go to the riverbank, there's plenty of cow dung there, enough for you to collect."

Congcong took the dustpan and manure rake and ran along the path on the west side of the courtyard toward the riverbank.

Along the way, a gentle breeze caressed his cheeks, as if cheering him on, and his steps became more and more firm, as if he could already see those piles of cow dung, exuding a unique aroma, waiting for him to collect.