Growing

Faint

“My friend gave me several authentic Shandong pomegranates .Have a taste.” zhenglan, my roommate said

to me.” Pomegranates…“that brought back lots of childhood memories of mine.
      
        “Mum, what’s that? The tree with red tiny flowers.” pointing at a tree, I asked my mother.
        
        “That’s a pomegranate tree.”
      
       “Pomegranate tree?” I never heard about it before.
     
       “Yes, in summer, it will be fruitful, baring a kind of fruit with tender and juicy fresh.”
      
       “Really? That is to say I will have pomegranates to eat very soon, for it is nearly summer. Right?” I kept

pestering my mother.
      
      “Of course, you can tell it from so many flowers” mother answered me firmly. From that time on, I stopped

complaining about my family moving to this strange place, just for the pomegranate tree. Everyday in the hope of

eating pomegranate, I went to see the pomegranate tree after school. It seemed that the tree realized my appetite

for its fruits. I came there only to find more and more flowers —no fruits. My longing for pomegranate moved the

tree in the end. I finally found one among these disgusting flowers. Just think—how treasure, as a treasure I held

it tightly in my hand. Believe it or not, at that time I didn’t know how to eat it. Mother helped me to peel it .Imagine

my expressions when I saw the crystal clear red flesh. Expression of pleasure? No, it was expression of

amusement, o be sure. As red as the eyes of a rabbit and prettier than the ruby is the flesh of the pomegranate.

How could I bear to eat such a beautiful thing? Only looking at it could make me very satisfied.
      
        Once I felt on top of the world for some trifle things, for example, a bar of chocolate, a toy which was not   

necessarily fun to play with, even if a hoodle picked up from the mud. How about now? I can have chocolate

whenever I want, but I begin to dislike it and have no interest in toys let alone pick up something from the ground.

I can buy everything I want to eat, but I seldom have the feeling of contentment. Lots of fruits are more brilliant

than pomegranate, but they can’t hold my appreciation, merely my appetite. The point is nothing can arouse my

desire; I am the most troublesome one with worldliness and vanity to deal with. Is it the cost of growing up? If so,

I’d rather not grow up, just like Peter Pan staying in his childhood for all his life.