Stepping into the flower season, looking back, I left a series of footprints in all my seasons, in the streets and lanes, on the road of my growth, big and small, deep and shallow, long and short. This string of footprints tells me the enlightenment of growing up, and also constitutes a beautiful landscape on my growing up road. Memory is an unopened bottle. When one day was almost full, I realized that I had so many memories and stories, and I felt that I had grown up.

I remember talking to my brother on the phone once. At that time, we had not seen each other for three years. I laughed heartily at the other end of the phone and chatted happily with him about things that I found interesting. He only listened to me, and it took a long time to say, how did you become like this? I remember you used to be very nice and simple, and you didn't talk like that ... I was silent, but I still told him what I was saying. Girls are like this now, what's the fuss? After a few quick courtesies, he hung up.

Lying in bed, closing my eyes, listening to the poem "Gardenia Blossoms", thinking about my so-called growth, standing on the roadside with a lonely attitude. I saw countless people pass by me without expression. I can vaguely find similar characteristics in some of them. They are naive and have plenty of time to go crazy on weekends.

But suddenly, I found myself. Those years, those years, have passed away for a long time at any time. The only thing that can make me feel real is graduation photo, a primary school student with 35 simple smiling faces in the book. The innocent smiling face is a natural sun, warm and transparent. Now, I have reached the age I once envied, but I find myself unable to bear such a heavy burden. Like other young people, I am ready to be baptized and attend the bar mitzvah. Ready to try all kinds of life tastes. So, I have my own ideas. I am learning to deal with all kinds of problems in my life. Sometimes I laugh, and sometimes I speak out loud about the troubles and happiness of people in my room under the blue sky. Occasionally, I can recall those days when I was young and simple, but I still shed tears. I know that one day I will grow up and say goodbye to the once clear memories and pictures. People's bodies shuttle through classrooms, canteens and dormitories all day. Walking on a shady path, nodding and smiling at people you know, occasionally being stubborn, still expecting something to happen.

Before I was seventeen, I didn't know what it was like to give. I just wanted to fly freely. My sky just wants to be calm and blue. Happiness is so simple.

After I was seventeen, I became calm. In this post where everyone will stop, I learned to be silent, learned to respond, and only occasionally looked at the sky and memories behind me. I miss it. Find yourself, really changed.