我是一盏小油灯。一只破碗,一点菜油渣,一小截棉芯,一点红光,那就是我。每到深夜,我就会给主人带来淡淡的光明。当月亮被大山挡住了,当星星被黑夜藏起来了,当我被一位十五六岁的姑娘点燃了时,我昏暗的光碰撞到石砌的墙壁上,折射出冷冷的光。墙角还有一张比光更冷的父亲的脸。“风儿——我和你大伯说好了,明天你就到他的工厂里去帮忙。”父 I am a little oil lamp. A broken bowl, a little oil residue, a small piece of cotton core, a little red, that is me. Every late night, I will give the owner a touch of light. When the moon was blocked by the mountains, when the stars were hidden by the night, when I was lit by a fifteen-year-old girl, my dim light hit the stone walls, reflecting the cold light. There is a lighter corner of the father’s face. “Wind - I told your uncle to say, tomorrow you go to his factory to help. ” Father