這個盛夏，在一座城遇見了一些人，感懷頗多。

得知被選中參加活動時，心中按捺不住地歡喜，青島離京城不遠，可惜我尚未踏足過那座城。幾經(jīng)輾轉(zhuǎn)終是涉足彼地，出站的瞬間涼風輕拂過發(fā)尖，送上初見的親吻，海濱城市名不虛傳，烈日下有風便不覺炎熱。坐上接待的大巴，駛過膠州灣大橋，看到了海。透過窗戶，遠處蔚藍的天空隱約蒙著一層白色面紗，還墜著些許云朵。視線往下是一眼的深藍，微微蕩漾的水上有幾艘小船，似乎在動，又好像是停在那兒的，就像坐在車上的我們。

見到了來自各個學校的同學，認識了帶隊老師，在歡笑中中止了局促的局面。接下來的幾天好好地邂逅了青島這座城，領(lǐng)略了上合文化、影視基地、自動化碼頭、線上教育、人工智能、校園技藝傳承……越了解它越喜歡它。它的發(fā)展是中國各個城市現(xiàn)代化發(fā)展的縮影，在傳統(tǒng)中創(chuàng)新，在匠心中匯聚用心，走出去、引進來，改革開放的春風早已吹滿華夏大地的角角落落。

我們小隊去了一所小學，邂逅了好多“星星”，再次想起，心底還是免不了的酸楚，摻著些溫暖，讓人五味雜陳。

穿過一條排排院墻爬滿綠藤的坡道，盡頭的建筑墻上是金色的蜿蜒曲折的波浪線條，中間一個大大的金色五角星，踏入校園，寬闊的戶外活動場地、無障礙的衛(wèi)生間……靜謐中透著不平常。出發(fā)前老師強調(diào)我們的目的地是一所特殊教育學校，當時我以為所謂“特殊”是指我們大眾認知里所以為的身體殘疾，并未敢多問。直至校長上臺介紹時才懂得這所謂的“特殊”是什么意思，也才懂得我們練習演唱的那首《星星》的用意。

孤獨癥，也叫自閉癥，顧名思義，是一種神經(jīng)發(fā)育障礙，影響個體行為模式的疾病，通常在兒童早期能被識別發(fā)現(xiàn)?；加泄陋毎Y的孩子可能在某些方面展現(xiàn)出非凡的能力，但在社會互動和溝通上存在困難。他們就像夜空中遙遠而獨特的星星一樣，雖然彼此間可能存在距離，但每個人都閃耀著自己獨特的光芒，故孤獨癥孩子被形象地稱為“星星的孩子”。這也就解釋了學校建筑風格的特殊性。作為中國北方第一所自閉癥兒童專業(yè)學校，該校主要從事自閉癥兒童的教育康復(fù)工作，校長提到這所學校老師和學生的人數(shù)比例基本趨近1∶2，相當于一位老師專門負責兩位學生，可見國家對自閉癥兒童教育的重視。

終于是跟這些“星星”見面了，抽簽時我抽中了喜歡的詩歌朗誦，遇見了同樣喜歡朗誦的幾顆小“星星”。他們一行四個人拘謹?shù)靥と虢淌?，落座在后方。前方的老師說：“來，我們一起歡迎各位哥哥姐姐?！彼膫€小朋友轉(zhuǎn)過身來，視線四處散落，參差的聲音響起，大家都不由彎起嘴角，好像也不是那么拘謹了。

“來，×××輪到你了，你邀請一位哥哥或姐姐來跟你一起完成這首詩吧！”又是四散的目光落在我們四個之中，“我們一個一個來吧，你先上?！边吷系幕锇檎f。走上臺去，那只小手一把拉住我，“床前明月光，疑是地上霜……”緩慢地一起讀，越來越快、越來越快，另一只手飛速在白板上跳躍指動。我跟隨著他的節(jié)奏，讀罷，他低著頭，率先鼓起了掌，像是對自己的肯定。

吵吵鬧鬧中其他小朋友完成了一輪，輪到他了，一位哥倫比亞的同學陪他讀，不太認識這首詩，于是他變成了老師，一邊教，一邊不時抬手大力抹去不斷朝外涌的淚水，聲音是顫抖的。

臺下的我奮力眨著眼睛，深呼吸保證自己不掉眼淚，還是忍不住，背過身去彎腰克制，邊上的朋友也忍不住一起小聲抽泣起來……

結(jié)束時和很多“星星”一起合唱了《星星》，臺下的帶隊老師哭得臉色漲紅，同樣哭著離場的還有一個在被家長安慰的孩子，因為在這種嘈雜的環(huán)境中他不由自主地感到煩躁。

以往與中國的邂逅，更多的是現(xiàn)代化發(fā)展中的美好，但這次在青島這片天空下，茁壯成長的“星星們”帶給我更多的是對人生的體悟。當天我在朋友圈寫下：人生的境遇各不相同，從出生，從長大，從變老。

他們放學后在校門口開心地和保安叔叔說再見，在爸爸媽媽旁邊深一步、淺一步往家走的場景，在西下的晚霞映照下格外美好。

“星星，星星，你為什么眨眼睛，難道是在告訴我你是天上精靈……”歌聲回響在回去的大巴上。

（本文選自人民日報出版社《我與中國的美麗邂逅：2024年來華留學生征文大賽優(yōu)秀作品集》）

This midsummer， I encountered some people in a city， and it left me with many feelings.

When learning that I had been selected to participate in an activity， my heart couldn’t help but rejoice. Qingdao is not far from Beijing， yet I had never set foot in the city. After several transfers， I finally arrived in the city. The moment I exited the station， a cool breeze brushed past my hair， offering the kiss of first acquaintance. The seaside city lived up to its reputation， and the breeze offered a welcome respite from the scorching sun. I boarded the bus provided by our hosts， rode across the Jiaozhou Bay Bridge， and saw the sea. Through the transparent windows， the distant sky was a vague blue veiled in white， dotted with a few clouds. Below was a deep blue expanse， slightly rippling with a few boats that seemed to be moving， yet also appeared to be stationary， much like us sitting in the bus.

I met students from various schools and got to know the leading teachers as we eased the initial awkwardness with laughter. In the following days， I truly explored Qingdao， experiencing its culture and relationship to the Shanghai Cooperation Organization， film and television bases， automated terminals，" online education， AI， and craft inheritance in schools. The more I learned about Qingdao， the more I liked the city. Its development exemplifies the modernization of Chinese cities， skillfully blending innovation and tradition， craftsmanship and dedication， while embracing globalization and attracting international attention. It reflects the far-reaching impact of China’s reform and opening-up， as if a spring breeze blows into every corner.

Our team visited an elementary school， where we met many “stars”， and I couldn’t help but feel a mix of sadness and warmth in my heart， stirring up complex emotions.

Walking up a slope with green vines crawling over the courtyard walls， the building at the end featured gold waves with a large gold pentagram in the middle. Entering the campus， there was a spacious outdoor activity area， wheelchair-accessible restrooms， an extraordinary calm in the air. Before the visit， the teacher emphasized that our destination was a special education school. At that time， I assumed “special” referred to physical disabilities， as is commonly understood， and didn’t inquire further. It wasn’t until the principal introduced the school that I understood what this “special” meant and the purpose of the song “Stars” we practiced singing.

Autism， also known as autism spectrum disorder， is a neurodevelopmental disorder that affects individual behavior patterns， usually identifiable in early childhood. Children with autism may show extraordinary abilities in certain areas but struggle with social interaction and communication. They are like distant and unique stars in the night sky， each shining with its own individual brilliance， even if far apart. So children with autism are figuratively called “children of the stars”. This also explains the uniqueness of the school’s architectural style. As the first professional school for autistic children in northern China， the school primarily engages in the education and rehabilitation of children with autism. The principal mentioned that the teacher-to- student ration is nearly 1：2， with each teacher dedicated to supporting two students. This highlights the national importance placed on providing education for children with autism.

Finally， I met these “stars”. When it was time to draw lots， I chose my favorite， poetry reading， and met several little stars who also loved recitation. Four of us entered the classroom cautiously and sat in the back. The teacher in front said： “Let’s welcome all the big brothers and sisters together.” Four children turned around， their gazes scattered， and their uneven voices rose， making everyone smile and easing the tension.

“Come， it’s your turn， xxx. You can invite a big brother or sister to complete this poem with you！” The four members looking at us appeared scattered. “Let’s go one by one， you go first，” said a friend beside me. I went up to the stage， and that little hand grabbed me. “Before my bed， the moon is shining bright， I think that it is frost upon the ground” （a quote from Li Bai of the Tang Dynasty）. We read together slowly at first and then got faster， while his other hand pointed to the whiteboard. I followed his rhythm， and after reading， he bowed his head， clapping first as if affirming himself.

Amidst the noise， other children finished their turns. When it was his turn， a student from Colombia read with him. As the student was not quite familiar with the poem， he became the teacher， teaching while occasionally raising his hand to wipe away the tears that kept flowing， and his voice trembled.

Below the stage， I blinked back the tears， taking deep breaths to regain composure. Still unable to hold back， I turned away and bent over to contain myself， while friends beside me also couldn’t help but start sobbing quietly.

At the end， we sang the song “Stars” together. Even the teacher leading the team was moved to tears. There was also a child， comforted by his parent， who left the scene crying， because he felt agitated in such a noisy environment.

My past experience in China was often about the beauty of modern development. But in this visit to Qingdao， the “stars” who grow robustly brought me deeper reflections on life. That day I wrote on my WeChat Moments that： “Everyone’s life journey is unique， from birth to childhood， adulthood， and old age.”

After school， the children happily said goodbye to the security guards at the school gate， and walked home with their parents， one step big and one step small. Under the sunset glow， this scene was especially beautiful.

“Stars， stars， why do you blink， are you telling me you are fairies from heaven...” The song echoed on the bus heading back.