Hard work after winning the lottery

She wrote: "Today, we took the children to a lesson taught by nature. There were no electronic screens, no standard answers. Only the fragrance of the soil, the feel of the rice, and the joy of creating with their own hands. 'Who knows that every grain on the plate is the result of hard work?' This poem truly came to life when the children cut the rice stalks and threshed the grains with their own hands. Thank you, Baixi Village, for giving the children the most vivid lesson."

This post was like a depth charge.

The parents' group chat instantly erupted in excitement.

"Oh my god! What an amazing event! My daughter came back so excited, she kept showing me her tote bag!"

"My son is the same way; he treats that straw ring like a treasure and won't take it off even when he takes a bath!"

"Teacher Wang, when will we be able to have this program for second graders? Please help!"

"@All members, I strongly suggest that the school establish Baixi Village as a permanent study tour base! This kind of experience is more effective than explaining it a hundred times in the classroom!"

Inquiries flooded into Teacher Wang's WeChat.

Meanwhile, parents from other classes also saw the care put into this activity from the souvenirs their children brought back—the beautifully designed "Study Tour Handbook" and the whimsical canvas bag.

For a time, the name Baixi Village became a frequently used term among parents in several schools.

Word of mouth spread in this most simple yet rapid way.

The next morning, while Secretary Zhang was brushing his teeth in the yard, the old red telephone at the village committee started making an unprecedented racket.

The first call came from the principal of the school that led the team yesterday.

On the phone, the principal's voice was full of praise and excitement, and the study tour time for the next grade was finalized on the spot.

Party Secretary Zhang held the phone, his back ramrod straight, repeatedly replying, "Okay, okay! No problem! Welcome, welcome!"

This is just the beginning.

The following weeks saw Baixi Village become truly busy.

The mountain road leading to the village entrance has become like a school bus lane.

On Monday, it's the bright yellow school bus of Yucai Primary School.

Wednesday is the daytime blue school bus of Experimental Primary School.

On Friday, there was even a white bus from a private bilingual school in the city.

The children's school uniforms changed from blue to green and red, like flowing rainbows, injecting a continuous stream of vitality into this tranquil autumn mountain village.

The study tour program in Baixi Village, like a rough gem discovered by chance, quickly gained a reputation in the local education circle.

The old telephone at the village committee has become a hotline for study tours, ringing incessantly and becoming the village's sweetest burden.

Hua Yun is like a tireless spinning top.

She found that after long periods of intensive teaching, the children would appear somewhat tired and their attention would begin to wander.

Therefore, she cleverly added a free exploration session of a secret base to the course process.

Give the children fifteen minutes of free time in the grove next to the sheep farm or by the stream beside the rice paddies.

Let them chase butterflies, pick up pretty stones, and play in the water under adult supervision.

This small change had a surprisingly good effect.

The children's energy was effectively restored, and they showed greater focus and creativity in the following craft classes.

The changes in the villagers are even more visible to the naked eye.

At first, they would get so nervous in front of the camera and the children that their palms would sweat and they would stammer as they spoke, only able to read the scripts given to them by Hua Yun.

Now, they have completely transformed into confident "rural mentors".

Aunt Li no longer simply demonstrated how to harvest rice.

While cutting rice, she would use the most vivid language to tell the children how rice grows from a seed, through wind and sun, into a heavy ear of rice.

"This land has a temper," she said, patting the ground beneath her feet, her eyes filled with awe. "If you treat it well, it will give you golden grains to eat; if you mistreat it, it will let you go hungry. It's the same principle as being a person."

Uncle Hua Man also became the children's favorite sheep commander.

He can perfectly imitate the bleating of various sheep, and can even identify a pregnant ewe with his eyes closed.

He even created a set of sheep-themed exercises, leading the children in stretching their arms and legs, which made everyone laugh heartily.

Their language is simple and unadorned, yet it is full of the power of the earth and the wisdom of life, which cannot be taught through any training.

The popularity of study tour programs is most directly reflected in the village collective's account.

This stable, non-holiday income is like a continuous spring, nourishing the once somewhat parched land of Baixi Village.

The village accountant held his abacus, calculating the accounts with a constant clatter, a smile never fading from his lips.

"Yun girl, at this rate, we might even be able to give every elderly person in the village a big red envelope by the end of the year!"

For Hua Yun, what brings her more comfort than money is a sense of spiritual fulfillment.

One afternoon, she went to the kindergarten to pick up her triplets.

As soon as I arrived at the door, I heard my youngest son's clear and proud voice, giving a "speech" to his teacher and classmates.

"My mom is a teacher!"

"She taught so many older kids to recognize lambs! She even taught them to draw with leaves!"

Another boy chimed in, "Our sheep are the best! My older brothers and sisters love to pet them!"

At that moment, Hua Yun's heart was filled with a tremendous sense of tenderness and satisfaction.

She knew that what she was doing was not just changing the economic landscape of a village.

As autumn deepens, the maple leaves in the mountains begin to turn red.

Hua Yun stood on the hillside of Xishan Goat Farm, overlooking the entire Baixi Village.

The rice paddies have been harvested, revealing the thick soil beneath, which is now resting quietly, awaiting next year's spring planting.

Another brand-new school bus is parked in the village committee compound.

The children's laughter carried on the wind from afar.

Autumn has deepened.

After the last school bus, filled with the laughter of children, turned the corner on the mountain road and disappeared completely in the sunset, it was as if all the sounds of Baixi Village had been instantly taken away.

After the extreme excitement comes an equally extreme tranquility.

The wind blew across the threshing ground, swirling up a few withered yellow leaves, which then drifted away into the distance.

The hustle and bustle has faded away, and the familiar and peaceful rural atmosphere of the past has once again enveloped the entire valley.

Grandpa Hua moved an old bamboo chair and sat down under the silent old locust tree in his yard.

He held in his hand the brass pipe that he had been rubbing for decades and that was now shiny and smooth.

The pipe was stuffed full of tobacco, but it was not lit for a long time.

His gaze was somewhat unfocused.