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2020年08月09日 06:13
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山西传媒学院-2012思想汇报


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There are few opportunities for me to physically go out
of my city for sightseeing, and even fewer to take part in a
tourist group. Such an occasion came when

I was invited to a day trip to Wujiaqu, or Five Family
Creek, a new farm- turned

city 32 km away from Urumqi to which I’d never been
before. Without the least

hesitation I accepted the invitation.

It was an outing organized by the local disabled persons’
federation. A 30-strong party of “special citizens” and
their caretakers, it was a “special group

” consisting of people with cerebral palsy, polio, and
permanent spinal cord injuries. A few sat in wheelchairs,
some leaned on crutches, and still some limped around with
their heads and hands turning and wringing at odd angles.
They could create an attraction unique in its own! But each
and every one of them wore

a happy face and talked animatedly with one another as I
joined the lot on April 30, 2009.

“Disabled” has always been a harsh word to me, however
subconsciously admitted

I am to the fact that I belong to that “lot.” I was
brought up in a world of


“normal people.” There is literally nothing I cannot do
in my parents’ loving care. The use of the Internet and the
grasp of the English language have pushed me even further
away from the consciousness that I am disabled. Right this

moment when I, for the second time, stood in the cool
morning air with the “lot

” waiting for the charted bus, I became more than ever
conscious of my “nervous problems,” and an hour of waiting
seemed like an eternity.

Finally the bus arrived. I went on board with my mother
and chose a seat by the

window in the second row. The engine started when
everyone was seated with all

the wheelchairs secured in the aisle. From an attractive
midget young lady two

seats away on my right, I retrieved my glance and focused
it on the window. Past corn fields, vineyards, and vegetable
plantations, the bus came to a halt one

hour later in what looked like a small parking lot of a
scenic spot called “The 4th Annual Exhibition of Tulips.”

Tulips! Tulips! Noble, graceful, attractive plants they
are! Why is it that a plant looks to me almost like a gentle
young lady? Ask Thumbelina from one of my picture books
Mother used to read me when I was young – which depicted


a pretty girl climbing out of a tulip-like flower I have
loved tulips ever since, but was never given a chance to get
a real-life sight of them until now….

But it was not until the bus, with tremendous difficulty,
maneuvered a few feet

closer to the entrance some 30 minutes later, did I get
off to catch my first glimpse at my favorite flower.

Arranged in crescent beds are patches of red and yellow
dazzling under the blazing sun. Despite the warning “Stay
where you are and we will have a group photo

taken in a moment,” my legs take me to the nearest bed.
Bending down, I fix my gaze at one particular tulip, which
holds its six red petals on an upstanding

stem. Around the stem sprouted several half-folded
triangular leaves like two little hands posed as if to
support the stem and the flower. Inside the petals there is
no little Thumbelina to be found but a tiny golden pistil
standing up straight on purple and yellow star-patterned
velvet, bracing itself up for the sun

’s and my glare.

“Attention. Time to take the photo!” Comes a shout from
the crowd behind. Obediently I turn around and squeeze into a
pool of standers for one unified “Cheese!” And then a real
tour of tulips begins.

Along a tree-lined road there are red, yellow, pink,
orange, magenta, crimson, cream, snowy white, pearly silver,
dark purple, light gold, and rosy claret – the only colors I


know by their names. They, together with a wide array of
color

combinations – magenta-yellow, red-white, purple- silver,
pink-gold, to name a few, creates a world of colors.
Tottering on the brick-wide path laid amidst the

flowers, I am turned into a clumsy butterfly in a search
for the perfect patch

of tulips. This lot is charming, I yell to my mom and the
companions. No, wait

, I think this one is even better…, I decide hesitantly.
In the end I, dazzled

by an overwhelming effort of tulips to show off their
tints and hues, haul down

my wings and come to a conclusion that it’s real hard to
find one group superior to any other, for every color, every
pattern they exhibit is a creation of Nature – created long
before preference and prejudice were ever known to mankind.

To share something good with your friends doubles your
happiness. I find this saying quite weak when I see one of my
wheelchair-bound friends shooting flowers

with a DV. He is a handsome man in his late thirties. Ten
years ago he broke his neck in a terrible work accident and
has been left paralyzed since.

“Wow, I wish I could have a camera like this.” I walk
over and ask, “Is this

a disc-type?”


“Yep, 40GB.” He replies with a smile.

His smile makes my happiness grow by at least five times.

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