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冬天的凌晨,乡下一片漆黑,只听见纷乱的脚步声,心跳得怦怦响,顾不得严寒彻骨,转过一个弯,又转过一个弯。啊,熟悉的夜色中,那扇熟悉的木窗盛满橘黄的灯光,暖暖的,那是沈老师的灯光。这样的时刻,在我读小学四年级时经历了很多次。那是时任班主任兼语文老师的沈幼敏的一个特色活动:带领学生晨跑。很多个日子,我都是在盼望中醒来——窗外黑漆漆的,我跳出暖烘烘的被窝,一个人走几百米的夜路,奔向沈老师的宿舍。
The winter morning, the countryside was dark, only to hear the chaos of footsteps, heartbeats, loudly, could not afford cold biting, turned a corner, turn a corner. Ah, the familiar night, the familiar wooden window filled with orange light, warm, it is Shen teacher’s light. This moment has gone through many times when I was in the fourth grade of elementary school. It was a special activity of Shen Youmin, the head teacher and language teacher at the time: to lead the students to a morning run. Many days, I woke up in hope - dark outside the window, I jumped out of the warm blanket, a man walking a few hundred meters of the night road, towards Shen teacher’s dorm.