以前,在小区内总能听到磨剪子铲菜刀的手艺人那嘹亮的吆喝声,一声声高亢而绵长,听起来苍老浑浊,抑扬顿挫,久久回荡……我曾透过窗户见过这位老人。他大多是一人在街巷里游走,从不结伴。只见他肩上扛着一张木凳,木凳腿上挂着许许多多磨刀用的工具,看不清他的脸,只听得他时而吆喝着:“磨剪子铲菜刀啊!”老大爷朴实的样子总让人无比安心。有一天放学回家,我在小区门口又见到了那位磨刀的老人。我细细地打量着他:岁月无情地在他绛紫色的脸上刻下一道道深深的皱纹。由于多年的操劳,老人的手粗糙得像老松树皮,裂开了一道道口子,枯柴般的手面上青筋清晰可见, In the past, people in the community could always hear the shouts of shovel scoop artisans shouting loudly and loudly, sounding old and muddy, caustic and long-lasting reverberation ... I had seen the old man through the window. He is mostly a person walking in the streets, never go hand in hand. I saw him carrying a wooden bench on his shoulder, wooden bench legs hung with a lot of sharpening tools, can not see his face, only to hear him sometimes shouted: “Scissors scissors chopper ah! ”Grandpa always makes people feel very peace of mind. One day after school, I saw the sharpening old man in the cell door. I looked at him carefully: years of mercilessly carved a deep wrinkle on his crimson face. As a result of years of hard work, the old man’s hand is as rough as the old pine bark, cracked a trail, dry wood like hand-bred blue veins clearly visible,