Those boys taught me how to grow,

Those boys taught me how to grow,

Those girls taught me about love.

I believe they are not angels, just ordinary boys and girls, but they are in my heart, is to give me happy angels. Now, they are not with me, I want to wait for them, for them to come back to teach me more.

When I was very young, I met them for the first time in that strange place. I was afraid, for there was almost nothing to make me happy except their smiles. I had been sitting in the last corner of the classroom when they suddenly came to me. I didn't know what to do and I could only smile at them stupidly. This smile made us the best friends, we said, never separate. We walked hand in hand on the path, facing the first ray of sunshine in the morning to school together, when the bell rang neatly appeared at the classroom door, looking at the teacher's dissatisfied eyes, happily back to the seat. After class together to discuss where to play after school, as if the world only left us, still happy to talk and laugh loudly. We were naive enough to think that we could be as happy as we are now as long as we wanted, and that our lives would not be complete without one of them.

Gradually we all grow up, not so naive as when we were children, want more freedom, freedom that belongs to us. We are not as straightforward as before open heart to tell, but with the way of exchange diary, recorded our happy and unhappy, write a lot of we want to say but dare not say. I think with words, can express the real emotion more, also let me read in each word different you. No matter happy and vexed, we bear together.

In the second semester of sixth grade, the whole classroom was filled with a silent atmosphere. All the disruptive and talkative students became very quiet. We all felt that we were going to part soon and we didn't know when we would be able to get together again. The last day of the sixth grade, we still walked on the road that we are familiar with, no one dared to speak, for fear of hearing anyone's voice, they would no longer pretend to be strong. Has been walking like this, we looked up and saw the fork in the road, we who did not speak, happened to hold together, can not help but the heart of the reluctant, crying is so torn heart crack lung. We both know that after the fork in the road, we may not see each other again, but we both keep our memories and love for others. I just keep thinking about how to continue my love when you all go away.

As expected, we were sent to different schools and made different new friends, but none of us could replace the beauty of each other in our hearts. We sometimes talk to each other on the phone, usually without saying anything, just two quiet sobs, to vent and comfort each other.

Do you remember the "promise" we buried under the little tree in the school garden? Did you go to see it? Will you think of each other when you see it, don't worry, it's fine, I'm fine, too. He has been deeply buried in my heart, become my permanent memory.

Thank you, my angels.

Thank you for teaching me growth and love.

I will be there under the little tree called promise, waiting for you to come back and teach me more...