I started rummaging through things at home, and when my parents weren't paying attention, when my sister and brother didn't know what to do outside, I opened my closet and rummaged through it over and over again, even if I found the place where my mother hid money, I knew my mother's money, and my mother knew it, and she didn't dare to take it, but she couldn't suppress her curiosity and began to look through it.

I stumbled across my mother's ledger. At that time, my mother had a habit of keeping accounts, and the ledger was a notebook that folded several pieces of paper in half and sewed them together with needles and threads. She will record the income from her father's sale of tofu in the account book every day, and will also record the expenses such as buying vegetables and matching matches, soy sauce and vinegar every day...... On the last page of the ledger, it is written that it owes 12,000 yuan to the coal boss, 2,000 yuan to Jianzhong, 600 yuan to pull beans, 500 yuan to labor, and ......

I cried for a long time in my heart, and secretly vowed that I must get ahead and never ask my mother for money again. I must earn a lot of money to help my mother pay off her debts, and I must study hard to change the family's predicament......

I'm just starting to slowly stop rummaging through the house. It's just that every once in a while, I would sneak a look at my mother's ledger, because my mother always hid the ledger and her money in the cracks of the big red closet.

There were more and more questions in my head, and I began to read as if I was swallowing dates. I often took out books from the schoolbags of my eldest sister and second sister, and only then did I turn their schoolbags upside down, regardless of 3721 or 3724.

Then, I saw that my eldest sister's schoolbag contained borrowed literary books, and I would read them again regardless of whether I understood them or not. Because of this habit, I was often scolded by my sisters, who didn't like me to rummage through their school bags and warned me over and over again, but it didn't work, and I could not contain this curiosity and the pleasure of hunting literature from their school bags.

Slowly, my sisters realized that it was useless to scold me, so they began to take the initiative to show me the literature books they had borrowed. Bingxin's poetry collection, primary and secondary school essays, Mark Twain's short stories, Turgenev's novels, Maupassant...... This habit was not until the two older sisters began to live in boarding school.

At that time, my sack-like brain couldn't figure out a lot of questions, such as why I would take a book when I knew it was a bad act, and I felt like I couldn't control myself.

I can't figure it out, why is Yuxuan's family so rich? Why does her house have a small two-story western-style building with a basement? Why is the shape of the building and the yard with plants that I have never seen before? Why does she have a lot of strange things in her house, such as specimens of dead leaf butterflies......

And what I can't figure out is why her family is very rich, and she still steals her mother's money in the morning, and cries after being scolded by her mother? Why is her family very rich, but she wants to take the money from the windowsill of Lu Yan's house? Why did Yuxuan take Lu Yan's money, but the teacher didn't expose her lies, but kicked me three times so that I remember......

My mom was busy every day, cooking, doing laundry, feeding pigs, and selling tofu with my dad...... Always impatient to answer my questions. After my father started making tofu, he was busy soaking beans, picking up beans, grinding beans, making tofu every day, and the next day he had to sell tofu all morning...... Also busy and didn't have time to answer me.

It was also since then that the scales in my heart began to tipple. I started picking up things in the classroom and didn't turn them in to the teacher, and I started blatantly taking things from my classmates' desks, a pencil, an eraser, a ruler, a pencil sharpener...... Then he hid the things he had brought in his school bag, took them home, and put them under the shabby sofa cushions at home.

In a few days, I will take it out and use it again so that I don't have to ask my mother for money.

Until one day, in the last class, the teacher asked us to clean up. After cleaning, I went from the classroom to the flower bed to play, and I saw a big eraser next to the flower bed, I was very excited to pick it up and put it in my pocket. Suddenly, a classmate who was lying on her stomach doing her homework next to her saw it, and she hurriedly stood up and said, "This is my eraser." ”

I said, "This is what I just picked up." ”

She said, "I'm writing here and putting it here." ”

I was a little embarrassed and thought to myself, "Why didn't I see her writing anywhere?" ”

Still, I said, "I found it, and it's mine." ”

Not to be outdone, the female classmates began to grab the eraser from my hand. I clung to the eraser I had picked up to prevent her from snatching it, and we even got into a fight.

She was taller than me, she pulled my hand, pulled my clothes, I held the rubber tightly in my hand and didn't let go, and many classmates surrounded her.

The girl said loudly, "This is my eraser, you thief." ”

I knew in my heart that I was about to cry, but I just wouldn't let go.

At this time, the teacher came out of the classroom, and several classmates hurriedly called the teacher over.

The teacher asked me to hand over the eraser, and my tears were rolling in my eyes, and there was nothing more to quibble.

The female student began to tell the teacher, "I was doing my homework here, and the eraser was there, and she took it, saying that she picked it up." ”

The teacher didn't ask me, and in an instant, I chose to believe the girl.

She said, "I still rated you as a three-good student, and you won't be able to evaluate a three-good student." ”

I was ashamed to brush my face to the back of my neck,

I wish there was a crack in the ground for me to get into, and never come out again.

The teacher let the students disperse, and after a while, the school bell rang, and everyone went home with their school bags on their backs.

The teacher didn't reproach me, and her words gave me a slap in the face. I hid in the back of the classroom and didn't dare to go home. My dream of being a good student was shattered, and I couldn't fight anymore, and I cried.

This is, my principal saw me through the office window, and he came out and asked me, "Why are you crying?"

I was ashamed to not even be able to utter a word of explanation.

My principal said, "If you know it's wrong, you're a good boy."

He touched my head, "It's already school, go home early, if you don't go home, your parents will be in a hurry, and it's time to come to school to look for you." ”

It occurred to me that my old principal, whose office was right next to our first-grade classroom, must have seen the scene in his eyes, but he forgave me and believed that I was still a good boy.

I was moved to start sobbing again, lifted the corner of my clothes and began to wipe my tears, and said, "Teacher, goodbye!" "Quickly ran home.

I thought all the way, cried all the way, and was moved all the way. When I got home, I destroyed the erasers, pencil sharpeners, pencils, and rulers that I had brought, because even if I took them, I didn't dare to use them at home, and I was afraid that one day, my mother or any family member would see them and ask me, "When did you buy them?" I should have asked more directly: "Where did you get it from?" ”……

I would get another beating from my mother, but if my mother found out that I was starting to "take" things and wouldn't beat me again, I felt that my family was even poorer, and I couldn't even afford a short pants to cover my shame.

Actually, my mom really didn't buy me little panties, and I remember not wearing them until I was an adolescent.

I began to learn to have low self-esteem.

But my old principal unconditionally believed that I was a good boy and said, "If you know it's wrong, you're a good boy." "It touched me even more.

I dare not live up to the unconditional trust of my old principal. Because if I live up to that feeling, things will only find out in a more chaotic direction, and I'll get more and more out of control......

Although I couldn't describe the feeling at the time, I vaguely felt it.

So, after I learned the hard way, I began to like the ideological and moral classes again.

I also tore up that ideological and moral textbook.

It wasn't scary for me to go to class without a textbook. The scary thing is that even I look down on me for not having a textbook.