我与书,我们是朋友,是伙伴。我有我的内容,书有书的内容,只不过,一个真实,一个虚幻,但我们是朋友,是这个世界上最亲密最真诚的朋友,是一辈子的朋友,值得依靠,值得信赖。在那些大风大雨的日子里,它总是默默地陪伴在我左右,告诉我人间最美丽的故事,赠与我最真诚的祝福。我和书的感情,与书的缘分,虽然说不是与生俱来,但却是甘苦共存的。不识字的时候,我总是喜欢听妈妈微笑着讲述那些美丽的童话,看着妈妈手中的色彩鲜艳的童话书,我总会无比开心。那些方方正正的字体在我的眼中荡起美丽的圈,像是天使的羽翼,轻轻地抖动,白色羽毛的飞 I am with book, we are friends, we are partners. I have my content, the contents of the book, but a real, an illusion, but we are friends, is the world’s closest and most sincere friend, a lifetime friend, worth the trust, trustworthy. In those days of heavy rain, it always silently accompanied me, tell me the most beautiful story of the world, give me the most sincere wishes. My feelings with the book, and the fate of the book, although not born, but it is willing to coexist. When I was illiterate, I always enjoyed listening to my mom smiling and talking about those beautiful fairy tales. I was always happy when looking at the colorful fairy tales in my mother’s hands. Those square fonts dart in my eyes a beautiful circle, like an angel’s wings, gently shaking, flying white feathers