Master put a piece of cheese in front of Jenny and said, “Share with others, please.”One day he also handed over her a dish of mixed thinly sliced fruits. He put a full, bottle of water and an empty soup container on the counter of the table… ”What for?”She asked
Jenny was very sensitive. She picked up leaves, and the dropped nails from the ground. She buried a dead fly before making the three prayers. She followed all the rules and never disobeyed.
Usually a bunch of flowers appeared on the table, cheering her up for three days. The purple rose, the blooming orchid in the shinning blue ceramic pots which her daughter sent to her for her bithday made her happy.
To be a doctor in the future is Jenny’s dream, but now she would like to be a writer for a web station with hundreds of readers from around the world. She has created a lively bridge between the editor and readers, sometimes typing, taking her a whole night. This year she got a poem from her master. It’s read:
The mountain is like a father,
The white cloud is like a son;
The mountain is always surrounded by the clouds,
but the white clouds have never known.
文章定位：
