一只矮凳,一位老人,构成我必经之路旁的一道别样风景。早晨太阳升起后不久,这位两鬓斑白、头戴花帽的老太太,已经坐在了门口,神态里的宁静与安详,让我心动。老人只这样静静地坐着,用一双被时光磨损得不再清澈的眼睛,打量着来来往往路过的行人们。面对马路上蹦蹦跳跳的孩子,老人的眼里满是长辈的慈爱与疼惜。老人也应该是儿孙满堂吧,她的小孙子也一定像那些从她面前经过的孩子一样活泼可爱、天真无邪吧。我这样想。 A stool, an old man, constitute a different kind of scenery along the road I have to go through. Shortly after the sunrise of the morning, the old lady with a white plaque and a flower-hat had sat at the door and tranquility and serenity in his demeanor made my heart move. The old man sits quietly, looking at the pedestrians passing by with a pair of eyes no longer clear by time. In the face of children bouncing on the road, the eyes of the elderly are full of the elders’ love and pity. Elderly people should also be full of children and grandchildren, her grandson must also be as lively and lovely as those who passed before her, innocent. I think so.