In truth, one never truly walks an unfamiliar road, for on this road, one becomes familiar with it as one walks, just as one never truly listens to an unfamiliar song, for on the listener, one becomes enamored with it.
It's just that familiar scenery may be gradually forgotten. We have looked back, but the relentless passage of time cannot be reversed. Our hurried steps cannot pause, we cannot retreat, we can only move forward. On that winding mountain road, our vision can no longer see the beautiful scenery we once traversed.
Teaching in rural areas once made us mistakenly believe that time had turned back. It seemed as if we had never grown up. The playful antics of the elementary school students were exactly how we were back then.
Now, we are like our former teachers, patiently correcting their Mandarin pronunciation again and again. Repeating simple arithmetic rules over and over, simply hoping to leave a deeper impression on the children.
In truth, one will always embark on an unfamiliar road, carrying memories, and slowly new memories emerge, in a cyclical process, not only creating our own memories but also becoming part of the children's memories.
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