Each person's life is stolen books, no one is probably not remember day of school. There, with revenues falling eagle left unexpectedly startled child, bewildered look of pure eyes, with one hand clinging mother with two lashes wet with tears blur ... All loving, soul However the strange and did fulcrum for each person overcame waves of strawberry tank life.

Remember the day was young, our summer vacation with his hometown poetic immense plains, no wind kites soaring overhead range, only a few days left until the first day of school, our kids huddled searched sheets of old newspapers to wrap books, drawing colorful label name, told her mother shopping for baby beige purple ink pellets soaked in ink on small, replace the pen with bamboo leaves have rusty new writers , shiny.

Mother Unfortunately for new clothes, more decent. We are eagerly waiting for this day to the carefree mood of the innocent child. Just look forward to seeing friends again after three months of summer chatted distance to the center, to tell ourselves stories summer days. And also rub shoulders above any other measure child ...

Were far away from the old year school season. It was far away from the poor countryside with tree-lined walkways cool bamboo, with thatched roofs school e a sound reading. And where in the old days with our loved you on the path loss how wale mud season to the sun, to hear the wind away from the flavor of fragrant rice.

All such sales are what is most familiar, the most peaceful of ancient childhood. Only the far right, does not mean the loss. Only the old school season five went through to commercial to drum this day to remember last year, to the king forever in the hearts of old school season ...