相信很多旧版红楼梦电视剧观众都不会忘记黛玉葬花这场戏.  黛玉葬花可算是红楼梦最经典的一幕了.  说得是黛玉爱花也最怜惜花, 觉得花落以后埋在土里最干净. 这是她对美有着自己独特的见解和追求.  她又以花喻己, 写了葬花词, 抒发自己情感. 对这位多愁善感的贵族小姐, 看花开花落, 从而感怀自己身世, 满目凄凉.  她父母双亡,寄人篱下,无人做主,孤苦一人. 花开美如画谁来惜? 花落凋零又谁会怜?  虽说宝玉具有爱花惜花的情怀,且两人能互解互爱, 无奈于当时礼教观念, 性格的悲观的她只能无力地看鲜花的凋零, 并预视着自己可悲的未来.

是啊, 古今中外, 世间最可悲的是看着人生最美好的东西抓不住后流逝而感触到的无力感.  世上所有美好的东西都象美丽的花朵被欣赏被珍惜多好!  但试问世间无数的花朵能有几朵能綻放于象大观园般的花园里?  而大观园内万千落花又有多少能得黛玉的怜惜下葬而无憾地化成净土?  又有多少能是玫瑰牡丹?  其外又有多少是默默无闻地花开花落而不为人知而飘逝?   就算世上有很多象怡红公子般有爱花惜花情怀的人们, 到头来恐怕他们也是白操了那颗心.

花谢花飞花满天,红消香断有谁怜? 游丝软系飘春榭,落絮轻沾扑绣帘.
闺中女儿惜春暮,愁绪满怀无释处,  手把花锄出绣闺,忍踏落花来复去.
柳丝榆荚自芳菲,不管桃飘与李飞.  桃李明年能再发,明年闺中知有谁?
三月香巢已垒成,梁间燕子太无情!  明年花发虽可啄,却不道人去梁空巢也倾.
一年三百六十日,风刀霜剑严相逼,  明媚鲜妍能几时,一朝飘泊难寻觅.
花开易见落难寻,阶前闷杀葬花人,  独倚花锄泪暗洒,洒上空枝见血痕.
杜鹃无语正黄昏,荷锄归去掩重门.  青灯照壁人初睡,冷雨敲窗被未温.
怪奴底事倍伤神,半为怜春半恼春:  怜春忽至恼忽去,至又无言去不闻.
昨宵庭外悲歌发,知是花魂与鸟魂? 花魂鸟魂总难留,鸟自无言花自羞.
愿奴胁下生双翼,随花飞到天尽头.  天尽头,何处有香丘?
未若锦囊收艳骨,一抔净土掩风流.  质本洁来还洁去,强于污淖陷渠沟.
尔今死去侬收葬,未卜侬身何日丧?  侬今葬花人笑痴,他年葬侬知是谁?
试看春残花渐落,便是红颜老死时.  一朝春尽红颜老,花落人亡两不知!

The entry was from a descriptive essay from my English learning class years ago.....  

My father was an immigrant who had limited English skills.  Wanting to improve his English, he attended an ESL class in a community college in San Francisco once.  That was his first encounter with the U.S. educational system. "The school and the classrooms are wonderful",  he exclaimed in delight. 

"The classrooms are roomy and bright and the lightings, the chairs, the glassy blackboards and the video are so great",  he said on the first day he attended the school.  I knew what he was doing - he was comparing the school here with a school in a remote Mongolian town where he taught before.  I knew that because I had experiences with that school, too.  I spent two semesters in there.  I still remembered even though that was about seven years ago.

Every morning, I could feel the chilly wind on my face and the freezing coldness beneath my feet when I walked on the unevenly paved and graveled path to my classroom.  The dry and brown fallen leaves cluttered on the path as well as the roof of the classroom.  When the wind blew,  those leaves would scatter, and I would hurry to that wood-framed door, which was about the height of a tall grown-up. When I entered the classroom, my face could feel the warmth.  I didn't know why the skin on my face was so sensitive.   I thought the warmth had something to do with the room, a small narrow room with a extremely low ceiling with those several inches of fallen dry leaves on the roof.  Maybe those  fallen leaves served as a layer of insulation to the small room keeping the coldness out and keeping the room warmer.

There could be another explanation why the room was warm, too.  There were too many classmates in the small room where there were only two windows on each side.  There were several rows of desks with the same color but different conditions, broken or half-broken dark brown desks arranged row by row.  We would puff and breath in the room with the windows closed.  Very soon the glass in the windows became vague.  Thousands of dewdrops would stick on the window glass.

When the sunlight penetrated the windows, the room would become warmer and warmer.  I wondered if this had something to do with the giant blackboard sitting in front of the room.  It was entirely black.  Though the ceiling and the walls were not black but dark brown, the whole room seemed dark and gloomy. I thought that would capture more heat from the sunlight.  The blackboard was made of wood, with a very smooth black-ink-printed surface.  It looked like a mirror in someway.  It could reflect sunlight penetrating the windows, making us unable to see what was written on it. We would feel extremely warm, even uncomfortable, because of the  kerosine lamp hung above the teacher's table in front of the blackboard.  The lamp was lit when the room was dim.  It was about ten inches tall and it was hung two feet above our heads.  Air had to be pumped in and fuel had to be filled in before it could be lit.  It emanated not only light but also heat, noise and smell.  The light it emanated was like sunlight: it filled the whole room, soft and bright.  However, the heat that the lamp gave up made us sweaty and wet.  We could ignore the 'zzz' noise made by the lamp, but we could not withstand the awful smell and the white smoke of the burning fuel, and the burning insects trapped within the lamp.  The disgusting smell, the flying chalk dust and the foul-smelling sweat melted together in the classroom.

The schools here are so great", my father was still murmuring.  "Do you still remember that Mongolian school that we left before we came to the U.S.?" my father asked.  "Sure, I do. Thank God I need not to stay there any longer", I replied, implying that if I had studied there, I would have had a terrible education.  "It is not necessarily true.  Having good facilities doesn't mean everything",  said my father. "Ceceg, one of my Mongolian students, your sister's friend, who is a famous writer now in the country, graduated from that school", he said proudly.  "But now, see what you have gotten here:  you have nerve gotten a single A paper in composition", he added.  I was embarrassed.

We sometime tend to take some little trivial things for granted without realizing these trivial things can be a big challenge for some other people.  For example learning the English Alphabet is seemingly simple enough, and yet for a child with Dyslexia, a learning disablity that impairs a person's ability to read, that doesn’t seem to be easy at all.  Unfortunatly, our world isn't perfect.  There are always people coming to this world with this kind of subtle imperfections that other ordinary people are hard to understand.  For a long period of time in the past,  their bitter experiences can only be swallowed by themselves.  Some struggle and suffer in their very day living even without realizing what their real problem is.  Some blame themselves, their families, their teachers, and even the society.  They don’t have a clue that they were born with their imperfections, an invisible obstacle inside themselves that they can't overcome.

It’s good news that the medical communities have started to identify those syndroms and try to find ways to help these people with these obstacles.   Hopefully, the general public can treat these people with open minds.  So, when you see a quiet child alway walking alone around the edge of a playground in which others are playing happily together,  please be kind not to simply label him or her as a loner or a stranger.  He or she may be a person with obstacles such as Autism or Asperger Syndroms.  He or she needs your understanding and support in his or her road ahead.  In a minimal way, we all should have a more friendly attitude toward them.