一阵寒风袭来,我冷得打了个哆嗦,不禁又想起了那个同样寒冷的周末。记得那一次,寒风凛冽,我远远地看见一个老者,他正拿着一根竹竿在垃圾桶里挑挑拣拣。这种人,说得好听些,是拾荒者,其实就是捡破烂的。我不由得停下了脚步,静静地凝视着他,因为我看见他的衣衫褴褛且单薄,我甚至通过那几块破处看到他冻得青紫的皮肤,但最终我还是将视线移向了别处,不是我没有善心,而是我没有能力,这个世界上永远有比他更穷的人, A cold wind hit, I was cold and shivering, can not help but think of that same cold weekend. I remember that time, cold and windy, I saw an old man far, he was holding a bamboo pick in the trash pick and choose. Such people, put it mildly, is a scavenger, in fact, is picking up tattered. I could not help but stop and gaze at him quietly as I saw his ragged and thin clothes, and I even saw his frozen blue skin through those broken spots, but eventually I turned my attention Elsewhere, it is not that I have no compassion, but that I am incapable of ever having poorer people in this world,