The first lesson I took on ideology and morality was taught to me by my old principal. And he taught me more than just thinking and morality, or being a good boy. More importantly, he taught me to see the chaos in my life, and even though I wasn't aware of it at the time, it became the answer I was looking for as I was growing up.

For example, the complex emotions and psychological change mechanisms of my "taking" book because I was moved and stealing because of injustice cannot be explained in a few words.

But this is the chaos of life, the chaos that can drown my memory at any time and place, the chaos that engulfs me.

However, these chaos have a different impact on everyone, some children can often not encounter it, or easily avoid it, or their parents will resolve it, and some children can easily face the chaos in life nakedly, and may run out naked and scarred, or they may sink into the chaos.

My second moral lesson was taught to me by a tablemate named JZ.

It's just that I'm starting to go to third grade.

Back when I was in elementary school in our village, JZ was a very handsome, smart, and kind little boy.

During class, he often took the initiative to put his textbook on the 38th line of his scarred desk and read it with me. During the test, he would also take the initiative to ask me to copy one of his test paper questions first, and then he would start to answer the questions slowly.

He is very intelligent, and often takes the initiative to solve difficult math problems for me, and can write very vivid character description essays, which is praised by the teacher.

He is versatile. I often perform and sing in the classroom, and I remember a song called "Always Come Home to See".

At that time, there was no TV or radio at home, I didn't know how to sing, and I had never heard such a good song.

But at that time, I didn't know what it was like. And then I taught me.

One afternoon, after school, he had just walked out of the classroom with his school bag on his back when I picked up a piece of stationery on the floor. It was a piece of pink paper the size of a notebook, neatly folded into a rectangular envelope.

I couldn't help but open it curiously and looked at it, it was a letter, or simply understood as a love letter, a letter from an ignorant teenager who had just learned to write a letter, and then wrote a letter to a little girl he liked.

A few beautiful lines on the pink stationery, eager to try, I couldn't help but want to read it:

Lu Yan:

Hello! I'm JZ-classmate. Although I have changed schools, your big sparkling eyes and black hair in a ponytail often come to my mind, and I would love to be friends with you, hoping to get a reply from you.

Classmates who have not yet obtained your consent

JZ

1999-0199-01-1999-01-1999-199-19

In that era when we were all ignorant, this was really an earth-shattering discovery. I couldn't suppress the impulse in my heart, and I didn't even know what the psychology was, so I took the letter to Xiaohong, who was sitting in the back row, and told him that Lu Yan was a female classmate who had transferred to another school before and was my friend.

Little Red from the big horn quickly shouted,

"JZ likes a girl named Lu Yan......"

And I am also very happy that I know Lu Yan, and I am friends with Lu Yan, and I laughed happily with Xiaohong. But I didn't know what my actions meant.

At that time, my tablemate had already walked out of the classroom, and Xiaohong's loudspeaker dragged him back. With a white and clean face, staring at a pair of dark eyes, he didn't say a word, walked over to our seats, beside me, and snatched the letter from my hand.

Then, he quickly tore it apart, put it in the outermost zipper of his backpack, picked up his bag without saying anything, and left.

My smile froze on my face for a moment, and the next minute, reluctantly, the joke continued.

That day, Xiaohong and I went all the way home, and I couldn't suppress my desire to talk, telling him what kind of girl Lu Yan was, she had long black hair, often combed a ponytail, and her skin was white and clean, but she was beautiful......

When I got home, my head started to think cranky again. I began to envy Lu Yan, since I could let JZ write to him.

She's so beautiful, like a Snow White, even I like her very much, let alone JZ-san.

ZJ is at the same table, in my heart is Prince Charming, I think they are very much like the beautiful story in Hans Christian Andersen's fairy tale, there will be a happy ending.

I fantasized about being a Cinderella and longed for a Prince Charming to take me away......

It turns out that I can write letters when I leave, and I longed to have a friend who I could write to and talk to......

However, I didn't realize that my actions would hurt the feelings of JZ's tablemates, and I didn't realize that it would become an extremely regrettable thing in the black hole of my memory.

The day after JZ tore the envelope at the same table, he didn't want to talk to me, or even show me his books, copy his test papers, and take the initiative to teach me math application problems.

He didn't want to say anything to me, but emphasized the already scarred 38th line on the desk several times with a knife.

I began to regret it in my heart, but I didn't know how to express it, who to talk to, and how to save the damage I had done to him. I said to him, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. ”

However, "if an apology can be easily forgiven, then what do you want the police to do?" "I remembered a sentence that Yu Ying said in "Meteor Garden". He didn't speak, and I didn't speak anymore.

A few days later, his mother came to school, and the teacher transferred him to a new seat, and he was no longer willing to be at the same table with me. The reason was that I copied his exam questions so that he could not concentrate on the exam.

The teacher also transferred me to a girl who was similar to my family background and I was familiar with, A-Ying, as a tablemate, so that I could copy the test questions again.

Then, one day, I don't know what I found in the classroom. He got into a fight with the other boys......

In the end, he transferred schools alone.

Instead of transferring to a neighboring primary school, he moved to a smaller town further afield.

I'll never have a chance to talk to him again, and I'll never talk about what I want to write about.

Ever since, however, I have longed to have a friend, a friend to whom I can always write letters.

I hid this in a black hole in the depths of my memory, just to ward off the condemnation from the depths of my soul.