The summer vacation came, and the blind boy waited for his father to pick him up. The blind child's fingers are his eyes, use it to read, explore the way, and perceive the world. The teacher told him that God is everywhere. The blind child hopes to find God, listen carefully, touch carefully, and tell God his own little wish. Father was reluctant to take him home. Home is deep in the mountains, the kind and loving grandmother, the two happy sisters, take the blind children to enjoy the beauty of nature, and build a happy paradise for the blind children with love. Bright desire. The impoverished father, who worked hard every day, was overwhelmed by the burden of life, and God had already been abandoned in his resentment. My father was eager to get married again, worried that the blind child would affect the marriage, and forcibly sent the blind child to a carpenter to learn craftsmanship. The blind child was very sad. God doesn't love me. Grandma ran away from home in the heavy rain and fell ill. She said to her father, "I worry about you." Because grandma knows that happiness is heaven, and love is God, and my father has lost these things. The grandmother died, the marriage collapsed, and the father, who was forced to the corner by fate, wept bitterly. The father hesitated to pick up the blind boy, the bridge was broken, and the blind boy fell into the rapids. At that moment, my father was relieved, as if he had finally been relieved. But looking at the struggling child is like seeing himself struggling in the destiny, and the power of father's love prompts him to jump into the rapids desperately to rescue the blind child. The waves are turbulent, the power of man is negligible, and no matter how hard you struggle, you can't move forward according to your own wishes. The father was sitting on the beach, holding the blind child who was motionless and crying bitterly. A touch of gold was sprinkled on the blind child's hand. He stretched out his fingers and enjoyed it, as if he had really touched heaven. His fingers were the eyes of the blind child. At this moment , he saw the color of heaven, the color of his heaven, the fatherly love he had been longing for. Some people say that the blind child is dead, and I wish the child would come back to life at last. Look, aren't his fingers already moving?
The Islamic world refuses entertainment religiously, and pays attention to the practice of pure heart and few desires. I don't know which Islamic country produces movies besides Iran, which is promoting Western-style democracy. In Iranian films, many children are the protagonists, and the exotic architectural styles show us a different kind of life. They often start small and show the conflicts between politics, religion, development, and human nature.
Some film critics highly praised Iranian directors and used the means of belittling our directors, saying that our country's Zhang Chen and others are incomparable. People who have been happy for too long cannot be sad from the bottom of their hearts. It is unrealistic to let the filmmakers who have gotten out of poverty early, moaning for nothing, using poverty and hardship as a means to directly hit people's hearts.
Where is Heaven and God? In the yellow beaks of fledglings and the tapping of woodpeckers? What color is heaven? Is it the feeling of touching flowers and ears of wheat? Blind children search hard. Grandma, teacher, father, carpenter all have different understandings of heaven. Oh, my heaven, what color is it?
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