十一年前那个烟雨迷蒙的初秋清晨，背着铺盖，提着行囊，我伫立在师范学院高高的校牌前，不禁心潮起伏，泪水盈眶。我的祖父是一位私塾先生，曾幻想靠一根木棍去敲醒求学孩子的梦，几经努力却失意而归。旧时代的局限以及落后的“棍棒教育”，注定了祖父幻想的破灭。我的父... Eleven years ago, that misty and misty autumn morning, carrying bags and carrying bags, I stood upright before the high school card of the Normal College. I could not help but feel ups and downs and tears. My grandfather was a private school teacher who dreamed of learning to dream of a child by a wooden stick. After several hard efforts, he lost his purpose. The limitations of the old age and the backward “stick education” were doomed to the disillusionment of his grandfather’s imagination. My father...