In the afternoon, the sun slanted into the room. The air is full of the fragrance of sunshine, and the lilies on the windowsill are quietly blooming. "On the banyan tree by the pond, cicadas are calling for summer ..." A familiar ballad came out of the window, like a string of silvery songs, which reminded me of my childhood.

I rummaged through the closet to find a photo album and looked at it one by one. Turn to the first page. The picture shows a very cute little girl. She is of medium height, thin, and blinked like a black gem. Wearing a white skirt, sitting on the slide. Look, she smiled, grinning, revealing a white tiger tooth, laughing so happily and so naive. At that time, I was only four years old and just went to kindergarten. This photo was taken on the slide in kindergarten. That innocent smile is like a pure water, quietly dripping in the story of childhood and gently moving towards the long river of growth.

I looked at it and couldn't help laughing.