Student memories

Years have swept away the endless flow of life, leaving only beloved memories. I often collect memories, and then every year, tears roll down my cheeks. Even in my dreams, I cry heartily remembering the old royal poinciana tree, the purple-flowered Lagerstroemia, my friends laughing and joking happily, people dripping with sweat, soaking their white school uniforms. Those were the times when I felt “powerless” before time, how could I return to that sweet, beloved time?

In the old days of May, the bright red color of royal poinciana flowers filled the path, the rocky school yard. During recess, my friends and I ran out to the school yard, playfully climbing the royal poinciana tree and shaking the branches to make the flowers fall. The girls were no less than the boys, tying their ao dai to climb the royal poinciana branches and giggling, until the security guard caught us and chased us down. I suddenly felt regretful in my heart, if only I had a smartphone or a camera back then, I would have been able to save the footage, photos... for life.

There were times when I sat under the royal poinciana tree, the sun was shining brightly overhead, and the birds were chirping. I leaned against the royal poinciana tree, the rough bumps tickling my back, the prickly feeling sometimes excited me. There were also times when I fell asleep, resting my head on a book and daydreaming, until the drum beat urged me to go to class. Just like that, I spent unforgettable sweet years. I thought I would be a student forever, but time passed so quickly.

In the summer of the final year, the sun was bright and scorching. Royal poinciana and purple-flowered flowers seemed to burn for the last time with us students. Each of us suddenly felt grown up, but our minds wanted to return to our childhood. When I went to class in May, my mood was filled with excitement, always thinking about the day of farewell. Back then, when we didn’t know what 4.0 was, everyone bought a yearbook and asked their friends to write a few lines of memories. In the final year, the homework piled up with important exams, but we still made time for our friends. During recess, no one was naughty anymore, so we took the opportunity to write in the yearbook.

The yearbook is probably the most cherished memory of my school days with the sparkling purple ink. I still keep the yearbook with me after many years away from my beloved school. Every time I read it, I feel both amused and sad for those beautiful days. Each line of the yearbook contains the thoughts of each member of the class. Some are quiet, some are lively, each has a unique look, creating a whole memory that I think no matter how far away I go, I will never forget.

I remember the tearful farewell day of my student days. From that moment on, I knew I had to say goodbye to school, my teachers, and my beloved friends. The tight hugs and sobs continued to prolong the regret. We promised to meet again, to return to our beloved school.

The summer sun was shining brightly outside, and memories flooded back to me. Those years are moments I will never forget.