One day during the lunch break in the second year of junior high school, my classmates and I planned to go for a walk in the playground together. As we passed the stairs of the classroom, we both noticed a five-dollar bill on the ground. I was thinking about picking it up and handing it to the head teacher, when she quickly reached out and picked up the money and put it in her pocket, like no one. I frowned and didn't speak, I thought she would definitely hand over the money to the head teacher.

After a short period of effort, she went to the school commissary to buy snacks, and then went to the playground to eat and run and dance, happy like a colorful butterfly dancing among the flowers. I didn't think she was a particularly nice girl, so I distanced myself from her.

When I was in my third year of junior high school, I went to the city to study and left my old school.

Later, I intermittently learned from a neighbor that her parents were divorced, and she dropped out of school to do laundry, cook, feed chickens, and hunt pigweed at home every day. Later, her father gambled and owed a large amount of gambling debts and could not pay them, so he married her to a creditor to pay off the debt. She had just turned seventeen that year, and the following year she gave birth to her eldest daughter, and the third year she gave birth to her younger son.

She had a very bad life, often beaten and scolded by her husband and abused by her in-laws, and the neighbor even found a photo of her face bruised from her flip phone and showed it to me: "She now relies on selling vegetables all day long to earn some money to support her children......

"Where's her husband?" I suppressed my anger.

"That man gambles day and night, except for gambling money, Pepsi doesn't care!"

"Why didn't she consider a divorce?"

Some people also persuaded her to divorce, but she said that she herself had lost her mother's love, should she let her children also lose their mother's love? That way, no one will talk anymore......" The neighbor sighed and shook his head.

I don't have any other way than sympathy, a few sighs.

During the Dragon Boat Festival that year, I took a bus back to my hometown, and I accidentally saw a woman setting up a stall on the side of the road through the car window, her unkempt hair was haphazardly tied with a towel, and a set of loose old clothes and pants wrapped around her thin body, which looked somewhat similar to my classmates. I stared at her carefully, she slowly raised her head, and suddenly a woman's face appeared in her sight, and a mole at the corner of her eye, yes! It's a classmate, it's her! Her appearance had not changed, but her skin was not as fair and smooth as before, but had become dry and dark, with wrinkles.

I hurriedly lay down by the window, trying to wave at her, or the car was too fast, but she didn't notice me, just lowered her head and sorted out the urea bags and the piles of broad beans and garlic on the floor.

The car moved forward at a constant speed, her back getting farther and farther away until it disappeared completely.

I feel sorry for her, but I can't help it.

Many years ago, she was not a particularly good girl in my heart, but I still hope that she will stay away from pain and live happily and happily, just like the butterflies that shuttle through the flowers in the warm sunshine and the gentle spring breeze.