There is a book that moved me very much.

Yu Dan's Understanding of The Analects of Confucius

What book is this? Its cover is yellow, full of mango and sunshine. Holding it in your hand, people can't help but be fascinated.

It's been a long time, and no book has moved me or even shed tears like it. The Cabin on Mango Street, a poetic and plain novella, came to me with a dreamy childhood and poetic youth, but it was mixed with countless sad and incomplete fragments.

"They keep telling me that one day, we will move into a house, a really big house, which will always belong to us ... but the hut on Mango Street is not what they say at all. It is small, red, with narrow steps in front of the door ... "Throughout the book, the author tells the story of what happened on a street in an American immigrant area. This is a beautiful language that understates, but it implies the hardships of life. And the process of a girl's transformation from childhood and girlhood to a woman. "Only mom's hair, like little rosettes and candy rings, is so beautiful ... when she hugs you, you feel so safe and smell so sweet ... you sleep next to her, it's raining outside, and dad snores ..." How sweet!

In the whole novel, life in the immigrant area is poor and difficult, but when I read it again, I suddenly realized that in my childhood or youth, no matter how poor and difficult life is, the world in my eyes is as beautiful as poetry.

"You will never have too much sky. You can sleep under the sky and wake up drunk. When you are sad, the sky will comfort you. But there is too much sadness, not enough sky and not enough butterflies. Most beautiful things are not enough. Therefore, we are inexhaustible. " This is the feeling of the author and his friends sitting in the street watching the clouds. Beautiful and sad, I can't help but recall my childhood and girlhood. The memory of the wooden floor room by Jialing River, the sound of my father's harmonica, my grandfather's flute, and the morning glory on the windowsill ... seems like a lifetime ago, which makes my eyes jump. The pure words in the book touched the softest place in my heart, making me seem to escape from the world of mortals for a while, and my whole body and mind became light and transparent.

At the end of the book, what moved me most was a passage: "It's just a house as quiet as snow, a space to return to, as clean as a piece of paper." The author described a room he longed for in this way, similar to Woolf's A Room of His Own. Every mature person will look forward to having such a room of his own, a formal home and a spiritual home when he is depressed.

When I closed the book, I still had tears in my eyes. I haven't been so touched for a long time.

Thank you for this book, thank you for the author of this book, thank you for my meeting with her. Let me have such a mood today, so touched.