Sample text of friendship draft-"Everyone is an apple bitten by God" I am 8 years old and she is 10 years old. We just entered school and were arranged to sit at the same table. I am wearing a pink coat and a hat as soft as cotton candy, like a little princess. Tong Xiaobai, on the other hand, was dressed in old clothes made of adult dresses, black and fat, with a runny nose on his dirty little face, and looked very sloppy. Tong Zhen is an eccentric girl. She wears dirty clothes, but she writes beautifully. She is willing to make money by doing homework for her classmates. She can look around when she walks. Coke cans, toothpaste tubes and even a rusty nail can surprise her for a long time. She said she had a boyfriend who was on the run, a murderer. Later, she said that a Mongolian had gone wandering. She also said that Shuai Shuai's political teacher was her father. Once, the first class in our class was a teacher's class. In winter, she wore a skirt and was immediately taken out of the classroom. In a word, she is very strange. Almost all her classmates don't want to associate with her, but she doesn't care. She makes up stories to say that she is a child who was picked up after drifting on the river for a long time, and the family who picked her up is particularly rich. Who believes it? Lying to a ghost. I am most interested in only one story, that is, what Tong said in my ear during a recess: Ying, I will tell you a secret. My father is not a political teacher. He lives in a place called Chongqing. Every summer, flowers as big as a small washbasin will bloom on the wall, and sometimes he will climb to his window, which is very fragrant. For once, I didn't expose her and ask her if your father was a political teacher. But a yearning question, is there really such a big flower? If only I could see it. Of course, my father watches it every day, and one day I will go to Chongqing to see my father and flowers. Tong Xiaobai smiled happily, smiling on his face like a blooming flower. So when I was 8 years old, I knew Tong's father was in Chongqing, where there was a flower the size of a washbasin. In Class Two, when Tong gave me a map of Chongqing, he was stopped by the teacher. The worn-out map fell from my desk to the ground, and he looked at my always kind teacher with a straight face. My tears suddenly fell out, my exercise book was all wet, and my handwriting was crooked. For this reason, I haven't talked to Tong for several days. Even though she tried to please me and took the initiative to help me write notes, I bought half of the sugar, and the soloist in the music class took the lead in applauding me. Nothing can move me, Don Xiaobai. I hate you to death. I want to ask the teacher to change seats! I told Tong maliciously that at the moment I faced Tong, the evil in my human nature was displayed without scruple, and its coldness even surprised me. Tong Xiaobai cried, which is the kind of silent crying. Her chubby little hands were twisted together, and tears flowed on her face, trickling out of a brilliant stream. I forced myself not to see her. Why did I make it so hard for her? Was it because of her that I was scolded by the teacher? Is it because she is an alien in the eyes of her classmates? Is it because she is poor? Is it because she is so easy to bully? I don't know. If Tong hadn't put a paper bag in my schoolbag when I finished school that day, maybe this story wouldn't have happened in the future. We will intersect like two parallel lines that will never intersect again, without any trace. The paper bag is full of letters. Mailing address: Shanglongwan Road, Shapingba District, Chongqing 1 12, which is a letter from Tong's father. I learned from these letters that when Tong was three years old, his father went to Chongqing to do business and never came back. But I think her father must be a good father, tall, young and even a little handsome like a political teacher, because his letters are so attractive and his handwriting is very exquisite. He told tong everything about Chongqing, and even had three different views on that boring map. He was looking at the word "human", spinning like the legendary beast "Kirin" and turning like a "mountain" ... I remembered the stabbing of Xiaobai that day. Needless to say, Tong and I made up silently. I gave her writing paper, and she gave me a big stack of stamps, all of which were carefully torn off from the envelope, all of which were stamped with the postmark of Chongqing without exception. Tong Xiaobai has been saving money. She said she would go to Chongqing when she had enough money and asked me how much the train ticket to Chongqing was. I went to ask my mother, and she said it would cost 200 yuan anyway. I told the news to Tong Xiaobai, and Tong Xiaobai was desperate. 200 yuan is really a huge number, and the corner ticket in her hand is less than one tenth of it. But she quickly pulled herself together and tried her best to help others with their homework and let me pick up coke cans on the way after school. She begged me, Ying, to bring you many good things when I went to Chongqing. Naturally, I refused. I asked my mother for money to buy ice cream. I gave Tong a dollar, made an appointment to bring me a flower when she went to Chongqing, and then wholeheartedly waited for the day when she went. If I hadn't been to Tong's home, I might never really understand her, why she is always so dirty, why she always wears old clothes, and why she always deludes herself into thinking that her family is rich. It is a place called "Wopeng" in Shanghai dialect. Behind the bustling city are small houses along the street made of wooden boards, which are messy and crowded with each other. There are rubbish and dogs everywhere. Public toilets stink. Idle people sit in the alley in the sun, and the roadside is crowded with messy shops. Tong's mother is a fat middle-aged woman. When I saw her, she was struggling to put honeycomb coal into the small bucket at the door. As soon as I saw him, Tong's mother ran over, wiped her hands on the apron and held my hand kindly. You must be Ying, right? In such a cold day, let's go inside and keep warm. Tong Xiaobai's mother's hand is like sandpaper, and her hand hurts. Obviously, Don Xiaobai is very excited about my arrival. She took me to see rhubarb dog in the neighborhood and Xiaohua Mall in Westinghouse. She obviously didn't notice how unnatural my expression was. I have an inexplicable fear of this strange environment. Those children in rags, those adults with cloudy eyes, and those corners that hide evil people and practices seem to hide countless viruses that spread diseases at any time, which makes people avoid them. ......