成长的故事

每个人都会成长，都会长大，对往日成长所留下的足迹也是依依不舍。

——题记

七岁的窗口

打开七岁的窗口，依稀还记得七岁那年贴对联，过新年时的场景。欢欢喜喜，快快乐乐。那时的自己亦然纯真，不懂那人间的险恶，只知道开心的时候应该哈哈大笑，伤心时就应该哭啼不止。而现在那个以前只会把表情清楚的表现在脸上的自己，现如今到哪里去了呢?七岁，一个快乐的童年，却被遗失在成长的岁月中。

十岁的日记

关闭七岁的窗口，打开十岁的日记。笔迹依稀可以看出来，但却还可以想起自己的十岁那年的喜悦。六一儿童节、生日都在同一天度过。自己却乐得合不拢嘴，却不知这也不好，因为算起来只能收到一份礼物。而那时的自己应该也算的上纯真吧。儿时的自己总是不以为然，现在想想还真是可笑呢。

十三岁的自己

合上十岁的日记，再看看十三岁的自己。已然没有了当年的那份纯真。或许这就是所谓的成长吧。十三岁，一个可以算的上很好的年龄。的确不可能如同七岁、十岁一般了。成长，真的好残酷，掠夺了自己曾经的一切。而自己也只能活在现实的世界里。成长，将自己当年的那些小美好埋在了回忆里。路人甲始终不懂我成长的故事和伤悲。

成长，是一个残酷的事实，让人不经意间就背叛了昔日的美好;成长，是一个虚伪的代名词，让人轻易得就戴上了沉重的面具;成长，是一个只开始却永远不结束的故事，让人很容易就放弃了曾经，放弃了曾经的一切，也包括回忆。

成长的故事，很甜很酸很苦很涩很咸很辣很美。

英语翻译；

Everyone will grow up, they will grow up, and they are reluctant to give up the footprints left by their past growth.

--Inscription

Seven year old window

When I opened the window of the seven-year-old, I vaguely remembered the scene when the couplet was posted when he was seven, and the New Year was celebrated. Rejoice, be happy. At that time, I was also innocent. I didn't understand the sinister world. I only knew that when I was happy, I should laugh and cry when I was sad. And now that self who used to only express his expression clearly on his face, where is it now? Seven years old, a happy childhood, but was lost in the years of growing up.

Ten year old diary

Close the seven-year-old's window and open the ten-year-old's diary. The handwriting can be seen vaguely, but you can still think of the joy of my ten-year-old. Children’s Day and birthdays are all celebrated on the same day. I was so happy that I couldn't close my mouth from ear to ear, but I didn't know that it was not good because I could only receive one gift. At that time, I should be considered innocent. When I was a child, I always disagreed, but now it's ridiculous to think about it.

Thirteen-year-old self

Close the ten-year-old diary and look at the thirteen-year-old self. The innocence of the year is no longer there. Perhaps this is the so-called growth. Thirteen years old, a pretty good age. It is indeed impossible to be like seven or ten years old. Growing up is really cruel, robbing everything that I once had. And he can only live in the real world. Growing up, burying the little good things of the year in my memories. Passerby never understood the story and sorrow of my growth.

Growth is a cruel fact that makes people inadvertently betrayed the beauty of the past; growth is a pronoun of hypocrisy, which makes people easily put on a heavy mask; growth is a beginning but never ending The story makes it easy for people to give up the past and everything that was once, including memories.

The story of growing up is very sweet, sour, bitter, astringent, salty, spicy, and beautiful.