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又一天放学,爷爷又一次等候在学校大门口。快七点了,天已经黑了,空气中还夹着丝丝凉意。爷爷穿着他那件颜色素净的短袖衬衣,踮着脚尖,伸着脖子,眼睛一眨不眨地盯着校门。我是从侧门的楼梯拐过来的,老远就看到了在门外苦苦守候的爷爷。“爷爷!”我大声喊着,飞奔过去,扑向爷爷。回家的路上,风轻轻地吹着,我们的脚步声,像一曲悠悠的小令。我牵着爷爷的手,从这温暖厚实的手掌,感受到浓浓的爱。我想起两个星期前,我吵着闹着拒绝爷爷
Another day after school, my grandfather once again waiting at the school gate. Almost seven o’clock, the sky is dark, the air is still holding the slightest coolness. Grandfather wearing his plain-color, short-sleeved shirt, tiptoe, neck stretched out, his eyes staring at the school gate a blink of an eye. I was turned from the side of the stairs staircase, all the way to see grandpa waiting in pain. “Grandpa!” I shouted, flying in the past, toward Grandpa. The way home, the wind gently blowing, our footsteps, like a leisurely order. I hold Grandpa’s hand, from this warm thick palm, feel the deep love. I remembered two weeks ago, I quarreled and refused to grandpa