二十年前的那个深秋,我还是一个十二岁的孩子,上小学五年级。久远的年代,许多事都已随风飘逝,而关于那双棉鞋的故事却永远的沉积在心底,长成了一道永不褪色的风景线。那是一个星期天的早晨,妈妈给我买了一双崭新的棉鞋,黑面、塑料底,穿起来柔软舒适,比妈妈自己做的棉鞋秀气多了 In the late autumn twenty years ago, I was still a twelve-year-old child, who was in the fifth grade of elementary school. In the long years, many things have gone by the wind, and the story about the pair of cotton shoes is forever deposited in the bottom of my heart and has grown into a never-fading landscape. It was a Sunday morning. My mother bought me a pair of brand new cotton shoes with a black face and a plastic sole. It was soft and comfortable to wear. It was more delicate than my mother’s own cotton shoes.