You and me under the blue sky

 　　The sixth day of my teaching stint. I stared blankly at the sky over Wuchuan, Zhanjiang, occasionally spotting a plane taking off. I watched it streak across the horizon. This teaching experience, though not numerous, was unforgettable. The complexities of interpersonal relationships in the outside world are like the crisscrossing power lines above an old-fashioned alleyway—a uniform black, intermingled and indistinguishable. I didn't bother to distinguish them either.

　　The innocence of the elementary school students, their voices and eyes, felt like a baptism for the soul. Their curiosity about the outside world, their pursuit of knowledge, were like ours in the past. They would sometimes tire of the classroom, sometimes rest their heads on their hands, seemingly indifferent. Even when criticized

　　, they would only widen their eyes slightly. But their innocence meant that even after being scolded, they would still be smiling the next day, still as curious as ever, determined to get to the bottom of things, always circling around you. Sometimes you would feel impatient with them, both amused and exasperated, but without them, the world felt quieter, more monotonous.

　　Perhaps the memories of ten days of teaching will fade after some time, but whenever we recall them, we will smile knowingly, simply because we once stood under the same blue sky.