Lishiwei photography

It was a face that Zhang Yongyuan couldn't freeze in the film. It was a photo fixed in the photographer's mind.

That is a group of poor people's yearning for a better life.

That was many years ago, because my photographer friend knew a little African language, so he won the opportunity for Xinhua News Agency reporters to interview in Somali refugee camps. He has always had such a desire to record the tragic days of refugees with a camera, awaken the kindness of the whole world, and save such a group of people struggling on the verge of death. They have black skin, tattered clothes and poor eyes. ...

The yearning for beauty has made the world see hope again.

Snow moth-snow moth-snow moth.

I was 18 years old that year. Because of lovelorn love, I poured a bottle of unknown medicine into my stomach. Later, he was rescued by the hospital and started a two-month hospitalization career.

One evening, another patient came to my ward. She probably saw that I was unhappy and took the initiative to talk to me and asked me what was wrong.

"Gastroenteritis." Because my stomach just hurt a little, I told her casually.

"Never mind," she comforted me. "I can be released from the hospital after a few more injections. Look at me, I may be on crutches all my life, but I am not happy all day? "

At this time, I carefully looked at her right foot with a thick plaster and a handsome smile.

The sky is getting dark, and the night is like a tide, drowning out the short-lived happiness brought by the sun. In addition, a strong wind blew off several nearby power supply facilities last night, and I couldn't help worrying and complaining about the laziness of power supply workers.

"Isn't it good to light candles?" Looking at the candlelight dancing in the breeze, he said happily. "Open all the windows."

The faint flame flashed and moths began to fly in. Flying around the candles, they seem a little blind, looking around, flying around, bumping into each other. She seems to be watching carefully, and her eyes are full of curiosity.

There are more and more moths and candles gradually form a beautiful circle.

"Come and see," she shouted to me. I can clearly see that a moth has broken its wings and can't fly anymore. But it still flapped its damaged wings and struggled to the center of the flame. The flame went out and the room darkened at once.

When I lit the candle again, I carefully protected it with my hands, lest those poor little lives be buried in the "sea of fire" again. She said quietly, "it's no use, nothing can stop them from jumping on the flame." You know they turn into worms through eggs, pupae through worms, cocoons, and moths from cocoons. What is the change of this life for? Just for those wings that can take them to the flame, for the final burning flame, this is their attitude towards survival, a calm and beautiful life, and a spectacular death ... "

I seem to be listening to the poet's recitation, but I didn't expect her to see the life of moths so meaningful. I once shot them to pieces with a ferocious fly swatter, sprayed enemies with all kinds of electric mosquito coils, killed them and left them nowhere to hide. Why didn't you think of lighting a small bonfire for them in the yard, so that they could embrace the flame heartily?

"Yes, it will be the happiest moment of their lives." She was a little excited, and I seemed to vaguely see the tears hidden in her eyes.

I let go of my hands and let the flame jump in the middle of the room again. She said that people are like this kind of moth, spectacular and beautiful, not a lifetime, but only a moment in life. A dark life will be bright because of an instant fire, and an ordinary life will be wonderful because of an instant legend. ...

I dare say that night was the most meaningful moment in my life, because I got to know her-a beautiful moth and her beloved flame.

It turns out that she is an excellent national dancer. Two months ago, the hospital diagnosed that she had bone cancer and suggested that she should have an operation at once. But at this moment, there is a wonderful performance waiting for her. China artists will show the world the charm of China folk music and dance in the Golden Hall. This is a sacred place that she deeply yearns for. She is like a moth who loves fire, and a most beautiful and brilliant flame burns in front of her. Why didn't she jump on it?

The doctor warned her that she would lose a leg if she didn't have an operation. She chose acting without hesitation. The performance was a great success, which was also the swan song of her artistic career. In the endless applause and flowers piled up on the stage, no one knew that a beautiful swan would lose its wings forever.

"I have no regrets." She said: "I left the best moment of my life. If fate makes me choose again, I will still choose to embrace the flame. "

I found all the candles in the drawer and lit them one by one.

Sure enough, I saw more and more moths join this group of revelers, dancing with ordinary and simple winds and life and love. I seem to hear them moaning at happy moments. Because of a few small candles, this humble ward is becoming a happy paradise.

A few days later, I was discharged from the hospital. She treats me better than any medicine. Before I left, I gave her a delicate little box.

"It's so beautiful!" She opened the box and said loudly. It's a snow-white moth. I waited for several nights. It is like a glittering and translucent jasmine petal, where it silently exudes fragrance. It does not have the beauty of butterflies and the pride of dragonflies, but it has the passion and passion for which fate trembles.

"Just call him" snow moth ",you see it is really as white as snow. I think it must love fire and flame the most among all moths. " She said happily.

"It's a pity that this' snow moth' is too rare." I'm sorry to say.

"No, they will be as many as snowflakes, as long as you open the window every day, as long as you accumulate flames in your heart every day."

I held her hand tightly and told myself over and over again that the snow moth was just asleep and would wake up.

I will wait in the years to come, waiting for the snow moth to fly into my window, no matter adversity or hardship, no matter sadness or pain.

I believe that as long as there is summer, there will be such enthusiastic snow moths, as she said, as many as snowflakes.

Yes, as many as snowflakes.

As endless as snowflakes.

What kind of place do you live in, like a garbage dump in the city, stinking and dusty. The war displaced them and suffered all the sufferings given by God.

There, he touched the hands of children as thin as chicken feet, heard the cries and groans of old people when they were dying, and saw the frightened eyes of women ... all these left a deep imprint on his heart. Everyone there could die at any time. Pills are more precious than gold. A high fever caused by a small cold will push people off the cliff of life. Death, like a casual bonfire, is too common to make people feel pain.

But to his great surprise, when he decided to take pictures of them, both men and women went to wash their faces and comb their hair as if they were going to attend a festival. He thought: No matter how poor people are, they are full of yearning for life.

In fact, they are defending their last dignity, which is respected by the whole world, the heart of Africa.

My friend is a photographer. He gave everything and filled their pockets with film. Just as he was about to leave, a little girl ran over and grabbed his arm, begging him to take a picture of her. He saw her clean herself up, especially on her chest, wearing a shiny necklace. She seemed to see the surprise in his eyes and told him the secret of the necklace with a smile. It turned out to be a clay ball that she rubbed out with mud, and then painted with pollen and strung it into a necklace.

Just to make this "necklace", she delayed taking pictures.

His hand holding the camera is shaking. He can't tell her that there is no film in the camera. He can't let this flower wither instantly in the most miserable place in the world. Is a heart that truly loves life.

She smiled brightly at his camera, and he kept pressing the shutter of lies and flashed by, deceiving her expectations. The black face and bright smile of African girls are always fixed in the photographer's soul at that moment and can no longer be gouged out.

After returning to the embassy, my photographer friend tried his best to ask the staff for some films. His heart is in a mess and he can't wait to return to the refugee camp at once. He wants to take more photos of the girl and go back and forth for about 20 days. He doesn't know that in these 20 days, a life full of expectations has come to the end of life.

Her slender life has been drifting, and a simple cold has made her sleep forever.

Lying in her mother's arms, the little girl has left the miserable world, and the necklace on her chest is still plated with the color of sunshine, stinging people's eyes with unavoidable pain.

The mother said that these 20 days were the happiest days for her children. Every day, she looks forward to seeing her photos and seeing herself blooming like a flower in the bright sunshine.

Mother said that her last words were still asking: Is Uncle China there?

This is life. In the poorest place, a miserable soul painted with sunshine turned into a pearl and strung into a beautiful necklace. ...