It Is Not Too Late to Mend the Pen Even After Some of the Sheep Have Been Lost

Abstract

I am a man whose youth was buried by the "Gang of Four." Now thirty-one, I am too old to enter any institution of higher education; nor am I equipped with a proper foundation to pursue studies on my own. In addition, I am already married and the father of a child. Working eight hours a day at the factory, I am busy with household chores when I get home. It is extremely hard if I want to study something for the four modernizations program. In the face of this reality, I am unwilling to give in. But as the saying goes: "When one reaches the age of thirty, it is like the sun having passed its zenith." Once youth goes away, it will never come back. It would be of no avail even if I could cherish a lofty ideal. Whenever I think about this, I cannot help feeling hesitant and depressed, wondering which way I should go in the days to come. Because of the damage done by the gang, there are a lot of people around whose youth has also been buried like mine and who feel the same way as I do. I write this letter to let out my pent-up gloom and to ask for advice.