怀念的声音初中作文（经典20篇）

记得我家以前养过一只小狗，但是它病死了。

一天，我和妈妈在街上散步，突然，我眼前出现一只无人收养的小狗，我喃喃自语：唉，这只小狗真可怜，把它带回家吧!妈妈想了想，答应了。

我们把它带回了家，并帮它做了个窝。我从厨房里拿出一只小盆子，在里面倒了点牛奶给小狗喝，它一会儿就喝了个精光。我想：这只小狗喝得这么快，长大了一定非常健壮。和它相处的这段日子里，它给我们带来了无穷的欢乐。

每当我们早上起床，打开大门的时候，它总是朝着我们汪汪汪地叫。好象在说：早上好!;每当我放学回家，它就朝着我汪汪汪直叫，好象欢迎我回家;每当我们吃晚饭时，它就围着我们团团转，只有妈妈的大嗓门才可以让它去吃自己的饭。

渐渐地，他长大了，我教他用两只脚站着、走路、跨栏、走猫步其中，他最不熟悉的就是用两只脚走路，他可以用两只脚站着原地不动，但是，要走路就难了。

有一天，我早晨起床，一开大门，发现他躺在我爸爸的汽车前，一点儿精神也没有。我猜他一定是生病了，连忙叫妈妈打电话给兽医。兽医不一会儿就来了，又是打针又是挂水，忙前忙后。但最后，他还是被病魔夺去了生命。我当时就大哭了一场。第二天，姑妈和姑父把他安葬了，我们一家都没敢去。

现在我想起它，眼泪还会沙沙地落下呢!

怀念，是回味无穷的果实。怀念，是芬芳沁香的味道，怀念，是美丽可爱的家，怀念还是我们的大自然。但我认为，怀念是即将离开的母校。

我在母校和同学们生活了六年，我们即将各奔东西，可能有的要转学，还有的可能依然在这里。但是，我们都有一个共同的意识，那就是都忘不了曾经教过我们的老师，一起同甘共苦的同学。

六年来，老师把他的知识全部教给了我们，同学把他的优点展现出来。我在同学、老师身上学到的，让我取之不尽，用之不竭。

在我们开毕业晚会那天，虽然大家表面上是高高兴兴的，但大家内心却非常伤心、难过。我们一直饱含泪水，直到老师说毕业感言时，我们大家都被老师所说的话感动，泪水禁不住掉了下来，我在这里谢谢老师、同学在这六年来的帮助和关心。

今天，历史和未来将有我们焊接，时代的接力棒要靠我们相传，站在新的起跑线上响亮回答：少年要谱写中华更璀璨的诗篇。

又路过你的窗前,那灯光还那么熟悉地亮着,你是否在这缓缓的灯光里,怀念着我?

还记得这温柔的灯光下你不知所措的神态,那爱我却又不敢说出的羞涩,那份不知该如何表达的朴实,和那种一直让我割舍不断的坦然和正直。真喜欢那个卖玫瑰的小男孩，当接过你从他手中买的玫瑰的时候，我仿佛突然变得很美丽，那份自信的感觉久久不逝。在你第一次注入情感的目光里，我依稀找到了回家的路。

许是秋风吹走了我的温柔,或是秋风的荆棘刺痛了你,你带着伤在我浩瀚的情感浪潮中消失。从此，你坚毅的背影任多么皎洁的月光也唤不回来。再也听不到你叮叮咚咚的钥匙声了，你的气息已飘逝在风里，离我远去

从不敢告诉你我的思念。思念时，只有拿出那枝已枯萎的玫瑰，在花瓣中找寻你真挚的初恋，但愿你还记得，那，是我。

一日，闲来无事，不经意间触碰到一本床头书，翻开后，一篇文章吸引了我，名字是《你还能怀念什么》，看到这儿，我心中浮起了丝丝遐想，是啊!我还能怀念什么呢?

我曾怀念幼年时母亲的呵护，我曾怀念生病时父亲的照料，我曾怀念许多许多，可是一切都如云淡风清罢，溜走了......

幼年时，我曾受到母亲的细心呵护，生怕我受到一丁点的伤害，本以为那是宠爱中的溺爱，可是那种溺爱，我却又如此依赖。曾想着独立，远离那种溺爱，可是，到头来才发现那是一场空，我根本离不开。

生病时，我曾受到父亲的精心照料，生怕牵扯到我病痛的伤口，本以为那只是做父亲的责任，可是那种责任，我想推却推不开，曾想着冷漠，避开那种责任，可是真的避开了才发现那只是一场梦，一场父爱织成的梦。

怀念，怀念那种芬芳的感觉，即使它早已不在，但那是我真诚的心中的一部分，永生永世不可磨灭。

渴望重温那种芬芳，可是那样的日子溜走便不再回来了，因为只有一句话是我长大了，怀念是长大后的我心中的感慨，而重温就等着下一世的轮回吧!

三年前，我从熟悉的故乡，转学到了一个完全陌生的地方。三年过去了，虽然我在这里交了许多新的朋友，可心里还是有些代沟。无论怎样，我都觉得还是家乡好。

有人陪我的时候，我就不会感到无聊，可当我一个人在家里的时候，我总觉得很寂寞，越来越怀念家乡的每一个伙伴，特别是那个和我出生入死的好朋友孟思莹。

思莹，她是我在家乡最要好的朋友。她对我很好，虽然我们年龄相同，但她却总像一个大姐姐一样，事事为我着想。

记得那年我和思莹在小屋的房顶上玩耍，我十分顽皮，下去的时候，在楼梯上不小心滑了一跤。当时，思莹看见了，立刻抱住了我。我俩从楼梯上滚了下来。当时我的头磕破了，流了许多血。幸好思莹没什么大碍，只是腿上擦破了皮，她忍着痛立刻去叫大人来帮忙。后来，大人们纷纷赶来，把我和思莹送进了医院。包扎好后，我和思莹被爸爸妈妈严厉地批评了一顿。

从那以后，我和思莹的友谊更深了，我们整天形影不离，只要有我的地方就有她，有她的地方就有我。

虽然现在我们分隔两地，但我们的友谊并没有因此而改变。我很怀念她，怀念儿时那一次次快乐的经历。直到现在，那道疤还在我头上，但我并不认为它很丑陋，在我心里，它就是我和思莹友谊的见证。

怀念，怀念家乡的每一个人，怀念我那最好的朋友，怀念那一次次令我难忘的事情

最最亲爱的伙伴们，我即将就要离开了，我不想把这个残酷的事实告诉你们。在学校里，就对我说一定不要转学，一定不要。但是，我不得不转了，虽然很舍不得你们。杨守敬小学，一个多么令我值得期待的名字，中心小学，一个我生活了5年的学校，说离开就离开，真的有些不舍，不舍的那些和蔼可亲的老师、不舍的那些曾经帮助过我的同学、不舍得那些被我帮助过的同学。更不舍自己的爸爸妈妈，一想到一星期五才能回家，唉

我的好朋友，不知道我走了你们会不会想念我，文艺委员水蜜桃，调皮，古灵精怪，和我组成了一个‘可爱美少女队’，我们曾经一起创造除了第一首歌曲学习委员葡萄，学习特好，作文老被拿去当范文念，希望你更上一层楼哦!劳动委员樱桃，和我是同姓哦!长得也不错，做事负责，一丝不苟。还有一个男生，派大星，呵呵，长得很可爱，他爸爸是中学老师，他学过跆拳道呢!

还有很多抹不掉的记忆，很多很多

希望你们要永远记住你们的班长草莓哦!

秋雨的到来很神秘，他，像一个欢快的小娃娃，奔跑着，走到哪里，秋雨仿佛是一个芭蕾舞蹈家，欢快的在我面前跳着舞、唱着歌，还让我想到了一首诗呢!那正是我印象最深的一首诗：唐：《白居易》的秋雨梧桐叶落时。

秋雨是什么颜色的?是黄色的、红色的、棕色的、白色的，是五颜六色的!你看，秋雨来了之后，枫叶变红了、就像我小小的手掌，和田边的朝霞。秋雨来了，树上的果子在尽情的洗着澡，在雨中呈现出五颜六色的果实，美丽极了!

公园里，我看到几滴小水珠挂在树梢，像是晶莹剔透的琥珀，让人怜爱小心，生怕一阵阵巨响将他落下。

雨滴落下来，像是在和大地说淅淅沥沥的悄悄话。秋雨来到了池塘边，荷叶上也有好多的小露珠，像是淘气的孩子，在来回追逐打闹。秋雨落了下来形成一条条无名的小溪，我踩在上面，水花四溅，高兴极了!

公园里，雨水落了下来，滋润着盛开的花朵，你看那菊花，橘色、黄色、白色、紫色的。在雨滴的侵润下，每个都喝足了雨水，待阳光烂漫时，开出自己最美丽的花。

湖面下的小鱼，也在等待雨滴给提供充足的氧气，欢快的在湖里面游来游去!

秋雨真的是美丽极了，我也想变成秋天里的一颗小小雨滴，在雨滴声中带给大地万物生灵!

秋来了，梧桐叶子落下来了，地上的枫叶、水滴形的叶子，都落了一地，这让我想起了一句诗：“秋雨梧桐叶落时。”

忽然，一滴滴像花针一样细的雨滴从天而降，好像是天空妈妈太冷了，所以，小雨滴们就跑到大地上，就像剑一样扑向叶子，准备把叶子串成一个大大的棉衣，送给天空妈妈。雨滴在不停地滴着，顿时滴到了我们的校园里，不一会，就形成了一个个小小的水洼，下课了，同学们都穿着靴子，高兴的踩着水花，当水花落下的时候，发出了“滴嗒，滴嗒”的声音，秋雨又跑到了花园里，她听见植物们在说悄悄话，菊花说：“秋雨的颜色是橙色的，雨滴们滴在我的身上才把我变成了橙色的植物。”小草说：“你说的不对，秋雨的颜色是绿色的，秋雨滴在我的身上，才把我变成了绿色的植物。”秋雨却说：“我本身是无色的，但是，我可以给大自然带来万紫千红。”

秋雨打在荷叶上，就像一个个小小的珍珠，风一吹，雨滴就像一个小孩在打滚。雨滴滴在了枫叶上，，就像一个手掌，里面攥着一颗晶莹剔透的钻石。雨滴落在滑滑梯上，风一吹，雨滴立刻滚了下去，好像一个正在奔跑的一个小孩。

我是多么喜欢秋雨，我真想变成一滴秋天的雨滴，也真像变成一朵花开圣望。

“一年之计在于春，一日之计在于晨。”我认为，一年中最美丽的时候是春天和秋天。

春天鸟语花香、阳光明媚、大地苏醒了，万物都在生长，就像人们每天早晨睁开双眼来迎接美好的一天。

到了夏天，炎热的夏天使我的心情非常低落，艰难地度过每一天。

秋天终于来了，一阵阵秋风吹过，我的心情随着天气的凉爽而兴奋起来。

星期天下午，我盼望已久的秋雨终于来了。我正在大街上走着，突然，淋淋沥沥的小雨轻轻地吻着我的脸庞，我高兴地大叫一声，“我可爱的秋雨，你终于来了!”随着秋雨的到来，我的脚步变快了。回到家中，吃过晚饭，我躺到床上，听着雨打窗户的声音，那是多么舒服的事情啊!小雨一滴滴打在窗户上，像一个个活泼的音符，在我脑海中跳动;像嫦娥姐姐在唱歌。像后羿在伐树。像玉兔在吃草。像……

听着听着我不知不觉进入了梦乡。我梦到秋雨在不间断的下，又梦见贝多芬在弹琴……

午间小憩醒来，听到叮叮咚咚的雨声。下雨了?秋雨?我嘴角上扬，一个箭步冲出教室，趴在栏杆上，伸手与它来了个大大的拥抱，欢迎你，秋雨!

这秋雨，它的脚步轻盈而细碎，飘飘洒洒，伴着乍起的秋风荡漾在半空中，像画框中娴静的贵妇人，唯美、端庄、纯净而又亲和。它静静地洗涤着大树，抹上一绺秋意;它悄悄地落在房舍楼顶上，平添几处寂寥;它淡淡地滴在水泥地上，卷起了一阵青烟。看着缠绵的细雨斜成织薄薄的纱网，我的思绪渐行渐远……它会浸润田间地头吧，它还会打湿黄叶枯藤吧，它还会轻吻红果香梨吧?

我喜欢漫步秋雨中，感受那丝丝凉意与寒气。收起雨伞，就让这秋雨摩挲我的脸颊，滑落我的发梢，钻入我的衣领，渗透我的每块肌肤吧!我伸出左手，雨点儿掠过我的手指，像牛奶一样光滑;用嘴品味雨儿，丝丝清凉带有点甘甜;闭了眼用鼻子细嗅秋雨的味道，似有远方沁入的幽幽花香。而我站在校园纷纷攘攘的人群中，依然能听见秋雨奏响的华丽乐章。就这样我细细品味它的清爽，体会它的细腻，感觉它的气韵。这时的校园因为有了秋雨，丢开了尘土，甩掉了干燥，一切化作了湿润屏幕上影影绰绰的风景。

俯身望去，一丝一丝的小雨滴在路面上汇成了几条浅流。小雨滴慢悠悠地落在浅浅的水窝里，溅起小小的水花，像穿着花裙子的少女在旋转、跳跃、翩飞。不一会儿雨大了些，便使劲挤出几股清流，汇入了长长的水龙中，不断地涌动，翻滚，如山间的一泓泉，像海中的一尾鱼。追随它们的身影，我来到了静谧的操场，这时近处摇曳的梧桐、挺立的青松，远处搁置的球架、高低起伏的屋檐，都被朦胧的薄雾笼罩着，像一幅立体的水墨丹青画。黄叶点染，青天为幕，红晕砖瓦，白色球架，黑漆跑道，我贪婪地将眼前的美景收入记忆中，在这个秋雨绵绵的下午。

“上课时间到了——”，我要告别我爱的秋雨了!撑起伞，一路踏着水花，迎着细雨，听着它敲打伞的脆声儿，我的心田也是一片温润。此时此刻，我想为秋雨写首诗，有林黛玉的愁绪，李清照的婉约;我想为秋雨唱首歌，添一点腾格尔的旷远，李健的独行;我想为秋雨绘幅画，有一点儿菊的傲骨，松的坚贞。我还想……

我喜欢秋天沉甸甸的果实，它们给农民伯伯带来了笑颜;我喜欢秋天亭亭玉立的菊花，他把最美的姿态展现给大家;但我更喜欢绵绵的秋雨。乌云盖顶，天仿佛要塌下来似得。风婆婆变了个神奇的魔术——“呼”的一吹，雨哗哗啦啦的下起来，像拉起了雨帘，又像吟诵着一首首奇丽的`小诗，吐字清晰。每一块玻璃，每一片树叶，每一朵小花都成了一首首优美的小诗，飘飘洒洒的雨成了醉酒的诗人，每一首小诗都带着奇妙的幻想。

啊!我喜欢秋雨的声音!雨淅淅沥沥的下着，让大地爷爷痛痛快快的洗了个澡;它用轻柔的手指帮树伯伯洗着头发，它灌溉着纤弱的小草，滋润着它万物，也滋润我的心;雨姐姐又唱着优美的歌，歌颂着整个世界。

啊!我喜欢秋雨中的景色!在画家的笔下，难以画出这雨中美丽的一切。而只要见过这秋雨中美丽的景色，便难以忘怀!雨不知不觉地停了，风轻轻地吹着，鸟儿开始婉转的歌唱，仿佛在向雨姐姐到别，凝聚的露珠往下滴着，滴在路旁的小水洼中，发出异常清脆的音响。滴——答!滴——答……啊!雨后的景色真美呀!秋雨，我爱你!

He always rose early to enjoy at least two hours of solitude in the house

and garden before the rest of the family came down In winter he spent most of

the time reading and writing. In sum mer he liked to get out of doors to work in

the kitchen garden or to take the dog for a walk in the neighbouring woods and

fields Whatever the weather, there was plenty to occupy him.

Although he was a creature of habit, there seemed to be an infinite variety

in his pursuits. He wrote book reviews regularly for two of the national

weeklies. He worked conscientiously his special subject, Indian History, and was

thus one of the world authorities on it;

he collected modern abstract paintings and so had a circle of friends

amongst artists and sculptors; there was hardly anything he did not know about

traditional jazz and he often entertained both British and America n jazz

musicians He was a superb cook and knew a lot about French and German food.

His family adored him and in a sense he was spoiled by them. At first

glance you would have taken him for a retired army officer-his bearing was

erect, his hair was cut short, he was fussy about his clothes, which were always

neat, clean and conventional. He liked to keep fit, and this was reflected in

his clear, steady blue eyes and healthy suntanned complexion. He hardly ever

watched TV, but enjoyed a good film and an occasional evening at the

theatre.

I am a girl of ten, and I live in a small mountain village far from

Taiyuan. The only person that lives with me is my mother, because my father is

away for eight years, working in a city.

During the Spring Festival, my father came back home. He looked thin and

tired. He gave my mother two thousand yuan, and told her that he would work even

harder, earn more money, and then he could take us to the city He stayed at home

for only ten days.We are living a poor life now. But what I want most is not

money, but my father. I miss him very much!

At the memory of my childhood, apart from outside the Chinese New Year

Dragon Boat Festival on a number of the most lively, and because parents are

busy job, a child usually with my grandmother to stay in the countryside

together. Dragon Boat Festival at that time to make me unforgettable.

With the usual, like the Chinese Lunar New Year, Dragon Boat Festival the

day before at night, so my grandmother will always obediently sat bedside, give

me some holiday rules, such as talking nonsense not to not allowed to eat cold

tzu not allowed with small partnership roughnot allowed to play in the water ...

... I have always been granted to his head. Grandma let me early, so that

tomorrow can have a good spirit.

Good morning, I got up early, get dressed on the first toward the kitchen,

when the grandmother has the kitchen to manage everything well, cooking up a few

bundles tied and Gui Gui leaf rope, the nothing glutinous rice lying quietly

filled a small bucket of water, like a pearl Jingying, cooking benches placed on

some of the small dishes, which containing various materials: there is peanuts,

there is red bean paste, there is meat, red pond.

So I sat eating breakfast table and watched busy grandmother.

The countryside are on both sides of the cooking, while used to boil water

while cooking to cooking and grandmother had already cleaned the duck Add big

pot, wooden ladle scoop from another pot of hot water a few dipper Add cauldron

of water, and then also carefully Add 1 tsp salt, and then Tim foci in a few

branches, it has been sitting next to me started to give my son a series

network.

Grandmother‘s hand because of the long-term labor has rough bark like a

general, but without losing dexterity, an envelope with red string woven into

the sub on.

At this point, the eggs are cooked, the grandmother picked up one of the

largest on the use of red paper red dye, and then do a clean cloth, into yard,

hanging on my neck. Then, my grandmother pocket containing seeds, candy,

peanuts, often very happy to me, because this way I can and small partners to

look at a dragon boat race.

Grandmother always put me to the gate, asked the want me to come back as

soon as possible to eat tzu. I always fell on the disappeared.

Small partners at this time are almost , and Sisters from the big head next

door, led us to the river this group watch dragon-boat race. Because of the

smaller rivers, so only two of the dragon boat, each boat has 13 individuals, 12

individuals paddle, one individual Ta and shouting slogans, One, Two, Hey Yo,

one, two, as soon as possible, 12 dark young man moves neatly划着, two dragon boat

sailed forward catch.

However, the children will know what look? We are only just a bustling Fig.

Girls in general saw a moment, we found that boring, and sat to one side from

snacks to share, boys, it is not, of their total enjoy chasing the dragon boat

race down the shore, because of the people paddling up the larger, almost every

boys who have significant traces of water splashing.

, and are perhaps a boat to the end of the bar, just things finished, stood

up, with partners go hand happily go home.

The sun is also slowly climbing the air, the kitchen has a bay leaf

fragrance, and I quickly jumped on the kitchen, the has been the major tzu. In

general, I would put that on the threshold sit tzu eat clean, and occasionally

there will be a few rice grains to eat chicken and watch the greedy big

cock-like, I was also amused ... ...

Today, even though over the Dragon Boat Festival, the mother every year

package tzu, made give my son, even though the mother‘s skill is not less than

the grandmother, but I always feel that what less.

I really miss the Dragon Boat Festival childhood ah!

The news that Mr Cai had passed away was known, and I fell into great

sorrow. The sound of the rain knocking on the window was so mournful that it

deepened my distress.

My memory brought me back to the class when I saw him for the last

time.

That evening it was raining, too. We started our lesson as usual at a

quarter past six. I sat in the first row, and I saw Mr Cai press his stomach

with a hand from time to time, but I didn’t know the reason then. The two hours

passed quickly. When the lesson came to an end,Mr Cai told us that he had

possibly developed a stomach cancer, and would go to Beijing to see a doctor. If

there was nothing serious, he would continue to teach us after he came back. He

was very calm and his voice was steady. He still gave us some homework. He said

that he would mark the papers as soon as he came back.

Then I started to wait for his return. I had not thought that I would not

see him any more. The cancer had taken his life, even though he was still

young.

Mr Cai’s words are still ringing in my ears,“I hope you will be one of the

best students.” I think I should work hard at English and live up to his

expectation .

I have lost a good teacher. Tears will dry up in time, but the memory will

stay for ever.

When memory began for me, my grandfather was past sixty-a great tall man

with thick hair becoming gray. He had black eyes and a straight nose which ended

in a slightly flattened tip. Once he explained seriously to me that he got that

flattened tip as a small child when he fell down and stepped on his nose.

The little marks of laughter at the corners of his eyes were the prodnct of

a kindly and humorous nature. The years of work which had bent his shoulders had

never dulled his humour nor his love of a joke.

Everywhere he went, "Gramp" made friends easily. At the end of half an hour

you felt you had known him all your life. I soon learned that he hated to give

orders , but that when he had to, he tried to make his orders sound like

suggestions.

One July morning, as he was leaving to go to the cornfield, he said :

"Edwin, you can pick up the potatoes in the field today if you want to do that.

" Then he drove away with his horses.

The day passed, and I did not have any desire to pick up potatoes. Evening

came and the potatoes were still in the field. Gramp, dusty and tired, led the

horses to get their drink.

"How many bags of potatoes were there?" Gramp inquired. "I dont know.

"

"How many potatoes did you pick up?"

"I didnt pick any. " "Not any! Why not?"

"You said I could pick, them up if I wanted to. You didnt say I had to.

"

In the next few minutes I learned a lesson I would not forget: when Gramp

said I could if I wanted to, he meant that I should want to.

Gram hated cruelty and injustice. The injustices of history, even those of

a thousand years before, angered her as much as the injustices of her own

day.

She also had a deep love of beauty. When she was almost seventy-five, and

had gone to live with one of her daughters, she spent a delightful morning

washing dishes because, as she said, the beautiful patterns on the dishes gave

her pleasure. The bird, the flowers, the clouds-all that was beautiful around

her- pleased her. She was like the father of the French painter, Millet, who

used to gather grass and show it to his son , saying , "See how beautif ul this

is ! "

In a pioneer society it is the harder qualities of mind and character that

are of value. The softer virtues are considered unnecessary. Men and women

struggling daily to earn a living are unable, even for a moment, to forget the

business of preserving their lives. Only unusual people, like my grandparents,

manage to keep the softer qualities in a world of daily struggle.

Such were the two people with whom I spent the months from June to

September in the wonderful days of summer and youth.

今天，上课明显有些力不从心，除了和往常一样对老师的厌烦，还有一种莫名的情感萦绕心头。很奇怪，我无法用语言去描述它。

怀旧，我常常在他人面前批判这种情感，我总是自信的阐述“过都过去了，怀旧就是浪费时间”的观点，可真到了自己，又何尝不是如此？

人非草木，孰能无情？

当站在班门口的窗台向不远处的那栋老式建筑眺望时，心头多少还是会有些触动。我做不到心安理得的忘记那里，毕竟那时陪伴我初中三年的居所。在那里，有熟悉的人，熟悉的路，熟悉的一切……

但三年时光，我无时无刻不想离开那里——我厌倦了舅舅的严厉，厌倦了舅妈的教诲，厌倦了那里的一切……

如今离去，不知为何，所有的不耐烦、所有的厌倦都在我迈开腿离开的瞬间释然了。

慢慢的，我开始怀念，怀念起那三年的美好时光，怀念起凌晨五点大庆路的寒风，怀念起深夜十二点台灯发出的微光，怀念起那三年中一切的美好……

顺着大庆路，通过两个熟悉的十字路口，便是母校七中。

七中，近几年来声誉直线下降，无非是一些流氓地痞从中做梗罢了。在那里，我度过了我迄今为止最快乐的三年，我对它的记忆丝毫不亚于徐志摩对剑桥大学的记忆。

那里，储藏了太多太多的回忆。

透过操场的那颗梧桐树，教学楼映入眼帘，我不禁怀念起那些年和我一同在楼上楼下奔走的人，可如今他们的背影都已消散在风中，空留我一人在原地哀叹……

他们，在哪里啊？

九五班的教室设在二楼，由于旁边有个规模不小的屠宰场，所以五班的教室一年四季总是“牛粪飘香”，可如今离去，却又怀念起那牛的嘶鸣……

推开班门，那张残缺的讲桌依然伫立在原地，老师们的身影还历历在目，滔滔不绝的讲演仍在耳边回响……

我怀念郭老师“更年期”时的猜疑，怀念周老师作业上的“好”字，怀念被李老师拉到办公室背书的日子，怀念和徐老师开玩笑的日子，怀念马老师的“信阳话”，怀念朱老师的卷发，怀念黄老师的憨厚……

怀念九五班的一切……

班主任不是郭泓了，他叫匡汉民。

我在高中不快乐，却再也回不到初中。

树叶“沙沙”作响，在唱着一首动听的歌，枝桠上的小鸟喳喳地叫着，我还是坐在外婆家的院子里写作业，坐在那棵陪着我一起长大的香樟树下。抬头看看那树，一片片叶子随风落了下来，有的飘在了地上，有的飘在了我的肩上，还有的随风去了不知名的远方。不远处传来了一阵欢笑声，我的心一下子起了波澜——

在我三四岁的时候，爸爸经常和我一起在外婆家的院子里玩，黏人的我，总爱跟在爸爸身后，他干什么，我都要上前去凑热闹，不管看到什么都要问一下，那时候爸爸总爱刮着我的鼻子笑着说：“你真是‘十万个为什么’！”那时爸爸也会陪着我在香樟树下跳绳、看书，黑色的果实总会不经意间落到我的头上，惹来我的一阵恼怒，而爸爸呢，总是会取笑我，说我要像爱因斯坦那样研究地心引力，我总会装作很生气的样子，追着爸爸要打他，院子里到处回荡着我们的欢笑声……

现在的我，已经好久没有听到那亲切的声音了，我时不时地在脑海中回想，希望能搜寻到爸爸的影子，但是那张脸却越来越模糊。时间太久，久到我早已忘了爸爸的模样……

那时候，我每次一回到家中，都是热热闹闹的景象，我和哥哥的吵闹声、妈妈和外婆的做饭声、爸爸和妈妈的嬉笑声充斥于耳。可不知道从何时起，这些声音渐渐被争吵声所取代。不知道为什么爸爸总是看上去那么不开心，他也很少陪我在香樟树下玩耍，也没有因为香樟树的果子砸到我而取消我了——那一天，我回到家中，发现家中一片安静，那些曾经熟悉的声音，都不见了。

我跑去问哥哥，哥哥不说话。要知道，平日里就数哥哥最爱打闹，这次却一脸的严肃，我的心中不由得咯噔一下。我又跑去问妈妈，往常妈妈对我的提问总是很耐心，可是这次，妈妈根本没有抬头看我一眼。越是没人告诉我答案，我就越想知道。

于是，我又跑到楼上问外婆，却惊讶地发现，外婆的脸上有两条闪亮的泪痕，我张了张嘴，却不敢开口说话。我在院子里四处看了看，怎么都找不到爸爸的影子。

第二天，我在玩耍的时候，发现院子里停着妈妈的自行车，无意间看到车篮里有一个本子，我翻开看到了妈妈的照片，一瞬间似乎明白了什么，拿着本子疯跑进房间，趴在床头大哭起来——爸爸妈妈离婚了！难怪昨天大家都不说话，所有人都知道这件事，就瞒着我一个人，以后我再也见不到爸爸了，再也不能和他肆无忌惮地有说有笑了，再也……

“咔嚓——”一阵惊雷划过天空，街上已经没有了什么行人，滂沱大雨顷刻间来到人间，小鸟也不知了去向。我坐到窗边的书桌前，全身无力地趴在桌上，眼睛渐渐模糊了——这十几年来，我在没有爸爸的关怀下，一点一点地成长，我多想再听一听爸爸那曾经熟悉的声音啊，可惜……

暮霭沉沉楚天阔，房里边的照片，我们笑得很甜。相片永远把她留在我的身边，而记忆永远把她的声音回荡在我的脑海里，牵引着我心中的一丝一动。

她曾教我唱的歌曲，是一首《月光光》的深情，是一首《落雨大》的纯净。古屋的院子里，故事平淡但当中有她。她阐述着南音，为我打开歌喉，唱响了柔情的牵动我心地缠绵。她的声音，是我怀念的那句“月亮代表我的心”。

她曾讲过的故事，是她说：不要让世界去适应你而要让自己去适应世界，你终究会欣然接受时间在地球上走动的速度。是她说：要像李密一样不再让茕茕孑立，形影相吊的母亲以及空巢老人孤苦伶仃，要“以孝治天下”，孝父母、敬老人、抚恤孤寡。是她说：她会像巨人一样背负我的压力，让我一直风和日丽。她的声音，是我怀念的那句“奶奶永远爱你”。

她曾许诺的言语，是一碗馄饨，是我淋过最大的雨，是她烈日下的不回头，是越看见海阔天空越是遗憾没有她分享我感动的思绪，是分不清究竟是她的天空总是蓝色，还是只有我的海洋如此。可惜故事太长，过往有她听我讲，如今只有风听。哪怕仅一次，也无法再听到了吗？她的声音，萦绕耳际的，她的声音。

可否用她的名字，和我姓氏，成就这故事的音圈。如果没有她，我的一生，只会在烟雾朦胧中，度过觥筹交错的夜晚。而她的声音，仅在我的怀念里，却尽在我的生命里。

总有那么一种声音，发自心灵，萦绕梦境，难忘却。

近了，又近了，当我想努力抓住那一种声音，那似春风轻抚脸颊的声音。奔跑着，不断寻找着，正当我快要抓住它时，它却从我的手缝中溜走，渐渐离去，直至消失。已经不知是第几次做这种梦了，梦醒时分，却依然环绕耳边。

近了，又近了。推开窗，好似上天注定一般，梦境与现实重合，我的记忆猛然被唤起，是你啊，久违的雨声。再次，微笑着与你相遇了，不知从何时起，重于学业的我，忽视了你的存在。但现在，我还是找到你了，久违的雨声。云青青兮兮欲雨，水澹澹兮生烟，雨花盛开在青瓦之上，叮咚作响，清脆美好。像钢琴的高音阶，美妙悦耳。可能有些雨珠是第一次来到人间吧，看他们，一个个争着到地上玩，有的落在屋檐上，一点点连着一条断断续续的线，玉珠乱跳，貌似在演奏一首欢迎曲。当雨水汇集着奔向阴糟，雄伟悲壮。

雨落在发白的阁楼地板上，有些俏皮。还有院子里的那一虹荷，不知有多久未打理了，当有雨滴落下时，大缸中就奏出了木鱼特有的韵味，闲淡清雅。

如诗如画如梦，这雨已成为了回忆中的一首歌，令人怀念，令人痴迷。旋律优美，歌词清新，环绕于脑中，难以忘怀。