There was a girl in our elementary school class who was traumatized when she was very young because she witnessed her father's death. Her mother took her alone and opened a munitions supply shop, and business seemed to be average.

She doesn't talk to people, her grades are very poor, and her family conditions are not good, she always has a feeling of peeking when she looks at people, and she is easy to suddenly yell. The girls in the class don't play with her, the boys like to bully her, and they make up the kind of slipping around to insult her, and the whole grade knows that there is a "female neuropathy" in our class.

Then one day, several girls pulled her to the women's bathroom, pulled her hair and told her to taste the excrement accidentally stained on her shoes, and I stopped them while I was in the toilet, and I don't know where I got the courage to pull this girl to the class podium and say to the whole class that you are the psychopath, and then bully her to deduct it for you in the future, because at that time what kind of school captain came, in charge of everyone's conduct evaluation, so he was very good at abusing his power, and no one dared to mess with me.

Later, when I had time, I would talk to her after class, teach her to fold paper cranes, and talk about popular things, she was very resistant at first, and then she was also very able to talk. We had the same road to and from school, and their home was a little farther away, so I was afraid that those little boys would hide on the road and bully her, so I would send her home and I would go back.

Once I met her mother, I must have taken me to her house for dinner, and I followed, in fact, their home must have been very rich when they saw the decoration, before leaving, I told her mother that their house was good-looking, and the food cooked by my aunt was delicious, and the woman who was dressed really could be described as simple hugged me for a long time, I don't remember crying or not crying, I shouldn't cry, after so many years, where are there tears.

She said thank you and kept saying thank you.

Not long after, I moved when I was in junior high school. Occasionally go back to the old house to see, meet this girl, chat, and know that she is no longer in school, nine years of compulsory education, she can't be educated better. So she chose to help her mother at home.

Then I went to high school, and I had little time to do anything else, and my mom would sometimes pass by her store and go shopping for something and chat with her, and the family didn't need that, but the mother and daughter needed the money.

It wasn't long before her shop collapsed, and the girl went to learn makeup, and we had a wholesale market here selling that kind of convenient makeup supplies, and I saw it once, when I had just finished the college entrance examination, and she was very good at makeup, and I told her that you look so good in makeup, and she took me by the hand and asked, can college students wear makeup? I'll send you a bunch of stuff if I can.

That was the last time we saw each other.

People often say that the distance between life and death is the farthest, but I don't think so, I think it should be the distance between life.

Two days ago, when we were chatting, my mom said do you remember xx (that girl)? She gave birth to a second child, both of whom are full moons. To be honest, I wasn't shocked, although we had to discuss whether the marriage was legal when we had a child at our age, but who cared other than the law on paper? After just chatting for a few words, I went back to the room, and then did IELTS listening, which was a bit ironic, and I actually heard my aunt say in the headphones: Thank you.

Actually, I really don't deserve Auntie's thanks. I also called her insane before I helped her in the bathroom, and I hated her messy hair, dirty clothes, and messy grades.

People also often say that children are simple and kind, I think simplicity here is not a good word, they are indeed simple, because they are too simple and easy to lose self-judgment, the eyes of adults, the decisions of others, the symbols on the screen, can become the helm of their boat.

Fortunately, I watched her being bullied in silence, and my mother told the girl's story, and my mother said that the word luck is the most expensive gift in the world, and unfortunately she didn't get it, but you do, and you also have the right to give this gift to others.

Luck is the most precious gift of God, and only a very small number of people will get it. And if you share this luck with others, not only will your own weight not decrease, but the giver and the recipient of the gift will receive another grace - happiness.

So I think the best thing I've ever done is learned to share.