Happiness Is the Sound of Flowers Blooming

There is a group of people confined beneath the four corners of the sky, hemmed in by a life that runs along two fixed points. They set out with the dawn and return beneath the moon, day after day, year after year. Their dreams remain unchanged, their passion undiminished. Though the wind and frost have turned their hair white, they remain full of fire, giving everything they have, without complaint or regret, to help generations of students spread their wings and soar. Money, fame, gain and loss mean as little to them as the passing of the years, as effortless as flowers blooming and falling. Having spent thirty years among them, I know their joys and sorrows, understand their ups and downs, am moved by all they go through, and admire their skill and devotion… All the glitter has been washed away, and time leaves no trace. With the clumsy pen in my hand, I want to record the ordinary light they shine: humble yet warm, trivial yet unforgettable. Stories filled with the bustle of everyday life, songs that soar with warmth, and tender feelings tangled with reluctance to part… Let us walk together, draw close to them, and come to understand them…