Attitude determines everything-woodmam

On the edge of a wide road, several large trees of different species stand up. Right next to the weeping willow is a sturdy and strong mulberry tree. Since the days when the branches were lush and pavilion-like, the weeping willow has had the idea of competing with the silent mulberry tree. You can often see the long, narrow branches of the weeping willow that are as sharp as needles, from time to time reaching for the thick leaves of the mulberry tree that look like the palms of old workers, posing a challenge.

  The two trees are so close to each other, a little bump is inevitable, it is not worth making a fuss about. The weeping willow is strong and competitive, and the mulberry tree is buried in hard work. The willows sway with the wind, swaying; mulberry trees raise children and give good fruit for people to make sugar and wine.

  On March 10, the day of the old Iranian calendar, equivalent to the end of May and the beginning of June in the Gregorian calendar, the sun was blazing and the silver-white sunlight spilled through the dense leaves on the ground. The breeze blew against the soft leaves. The canaries were chirping, but the crickets were not heard. It was nearly noon, but I saw a few adults and children hurrying along at one end of the road, carrying wooden poles of various lengths on their shoulders, and some holding rocks and sticks in their hands, and stopping in the shade of the trees.

  After a few people exchanged pleasantries, they walked briskly in the direction of the weeping willow. No! Their target was not the willow. It seems that a flying disaster is about to fall on the head of the old mulberry tree, because its heavy branches are full of sweet and delicious mulberries. In a flash, children and adults attacked the mulberry tree: waving their wooden poles, jumping and bouncing, and throwing rocks. The mulberry tree trembled, and the leaves and mulberries fell all over the ground. The attackers were satisfied and happy; the poor old mulberry tree suffered misfortune and was bruised all over.

  Well, our mulberry tree how like a warrior to resist foreign insults, steadfast and unyielding, although it was outnumbered and defeated, but still stand tall, lofty!

  At this time, the willow watching the battle on the side of the heart is really scared, afraid of "the city gate fire, the fish in the pond"; but see the former rival suffered, but also secretly happy. Weeping willow escaped the catastrophe, but safe and sound, even a small stone did not touch.

  People dispersed. Weeping willow secretly celebrate their good fortune, more mulberry tree suffered and heartfelt relief. The breeze is gentle, the willow is happy to shake its head, not a little sympathy and pity for the battered neighbors, but to report cynicism, showing its cold, arrogant and unbeatable.

  The fruitful mulberry tree was looted, many branches were broken, the green leaves damaged, has become a thousand holes, it is a lot of suffering. The weeping willow, on the other hand, had a very pleasant time throughout the summer.

  The mulberry tree came through stubbornly. After a period of rest and recuperation, it began to dress itself up again. The new young shoots and purple fruits once again rejuvenated the mulberry tree and restored it to its former glory.

  However, an unspeakable pain is constantly weighing on the mulberry tree's heart, and an unexplained arrogance is always swirling among the willow branches swaying in the wind. The fair nature is not happy about this, and it does not want to let this artificial injustice exist for a long time.

  As time goes by, it is already late autumn. A gust of cold air comes and disperses the warmth of the sun. The sky and the earth are cloudy, everywhere is a deep silence, no longer hear the chirping of crickets. In the sluggish autumn wind, all the trees wither; occasionally you can see the first bloom of cold-resistant flowers, but only a scattered embellishment. In order to meet the needs of wealthy families for heating, gardeners began to cut down those useless trees.

  In the late afternoon, the wind rose up and blew the leaves on the road around. The yellow leaves were swept up and held up, flying through the air as if they were windmills played by children. The wind subsided a little, and an old landscaper came from the street, carrying a large bronze saw in his hand. At this moment, the branches of the weeping willow reveal their arrogance as usual, while the hidden pain inside the mulberry tree is still not relieved.

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