When I was young, my family was very poor. Our relatives and neighbors all looked down on us, and our neighbors’ kids didn’t play with me. I remember there was one time when I cheerfully went to see if the neighbors’ kid wanted to play, but when I was about to reach the entrance to her home, she suddenly closed the door. This scene is imprinted in my childhood memories like a stamp. It hurt my self-esteem very badly. Once I started school, my classmates and teachers also looked down on me. When I saw that the children of other families had nice backpacks and pencil cases and pretty clothing, knowing I didn’t have any of that, I thought every day of how great it would be if my family could have as much money as other families. Then people wouldn’t look down on me. When I was 10 years old, my family was in great debt due to a traffic accident, and my father went to borrow money from my relatives. Because we were poor, they didn’t dare lend it to us. After that, my father became so gloomy that he would often sigh in despair, and he often said to me, “Our relatives and neighbors look down on us because we don’t have money. When you grow up,
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