7岁那年，我随着父亲一同来到这座城市，这座城市冬天好冷啊！我和父亲紧紧裹着破旧的大衣，大街上行人很少，我们就像在穿越一座冰冷的坟墓，静寂得可怕。
When I was 7 years old, I came to this city with my father. It was cold in winter in this city! My father and I are tightly wrapped in old coats. There are few pedestrians in the street. We are like walking through a cold grave. It's very quiet.
终于到了，农民工子弟学校。父亲是全国两亿多农民工的一名，而我和我的同学们就有了一个共同的名字——农民工子女。其实，我一点也不懂得 “农民工”这三个字的含义，我只知道在秋末收完稻谷后，我便跟随父亲来到大城市，家乡的小伙伴们得知这件事，好至羡慕！我也很得意，仿佛看到大城市一派繁华，生机勃勃的春天的景象。
Finally arrived, migrant workers children's school. My father is one of more than 200 million migrant workers in China, and my classmates and I have a common name - migrant workers' children. In fact, I don't know the meaning of the three words "migrant workers". I only know that after the rice harvest at the end of autumn, I will follow my father to the big city. The little friends in my hometown are so envious to learn this! I am also very proud, as if to see a big city a prosperous, vibrant scene of spring.
由于一时买不起自行车，爸爸都会徒步走上好几公里的路来接我，然后和我一起搭公交车回家。正是下班的高峰期，我和爸爸好不容易挤上了公交车，我很兴奋，这是我头一回坐上城里的公交车。不一会，我却发现了一个奇怪的现象：人们时不时回头看我们父子俩，我旁边一位时髦的小姐还紧紧用手捂住她的钱包。当我们经过人群时，他们都像害怕瘟疫似的避开了。尽管只有7岁，我全明白了。我望向车外，外面的树枝都干枯了，只剩光秃秃的树干，行人都加快脚步想早点回家。然而此时，我却觉得车内比车外更加寒冷，冷得让我发抖，我真的好想找个缝钻下去。我不敢去看父亲，害怕从他眼中读出心酸的答案。
Because I couldn't afford a bicycle for a while, my father would walk for several kilometers to pick me up, and then take a bus home with me. It's the rush hour of work. Dad and I managed to get on the bus. I'm very excited. This is my first time to take the bus in the city. A moment later, I found a strange phenomenon: people looked back at our father and son from time to time, and a fashionable lady next to me still tightly covered her purse with her hand. When we passed the crowd, they all avoided it as if they were afraid of the plague. Even though I'm only seven years old, I get it all. I looked out of the car. The branches outside were all dry. There were only bare tree trunks left. The pedestrians all stepped up to go home early. However, at this time, I feel that the inside of the car is colder than the outside, which makes me shiver. I really want to find a crack to drill down. I dare not see my father, afraid to read the sad answer from his eyes.
我不懂，我的爸爸住的是较差的小屋子，吃的是最差的食品，然而他却建造出了这个城市的繁华，他用自己的泪水去搭建高楼大厦。可是为什么却还要忍受城里人那如刀割般鄙夷的目光，他们霹雳的目光让我仿佛置身于冰天雪地之中，接受寒风无情地在我的脸上，划出一道道伤口，任其淌血。
I don't understand. My father lives in a poor little house and eats the worst food. However, he has built a prosperous city. He uses his tears to build tall buildings. But why do I have to endure the scornful eyes of the city people? Their thundering eyes make me feel as if I am in the ice and snow. They accept the cold wind mercilessly in my face and draw a wound, leaving it bleeding.
我想回家，家里的冬天虽然比这还寒冷，但我却能和小伙伴一起打雪仗，堆雪人，心里暖呵呵的，一点也不觉得冷。可在这，我无法忘记那个时髦小姐的害怕被偷的眼神，我无法忍受别人轻蔑地叫我爸爸“臭打工仔”。
I want to go home. Although the winter at home is colder than this, I can have a snowball fight with my friends and make a snowman. My heart is warm and I don't feel cold at all. But here, I can't forget that fashionable lady's fear of being stolen eyes, I can't stand people calling my father "Stinky worker" contemptuously.
然而当我准备将回家的事告诉父亲时，事情却突然有了转机。市里面的领导带了好多的生活用具、文具来慰问我们。有这么一个伯伯亲切地拉着我的手说：“孩子，要好好学习，社会上还有很多人在关心你们。”顷刻间，我的心流过一股暖流，这是这个季节以来第一次这般温暖。
But when I was going to tell my father about going home, things suddenly changed. The leaders in the city brought a lot of living utensils and stationery to visit us. There is such an uncle kindly holding my hand and saying: "children, we should study hard. There are many people in the society who care about you." In an instant, my heart flows through a warm current, which is the first time since this season.
看着这些社会上爱心人士送的东西，我才突然觉得原来还有许多好心人在关心着贫穷的人。
Looking at these gifts from caring people in the society, I suddenly feel that there are many good people caring for the poor.
记得有位著名诗人曾说：冬天去了，春天还会远吗？有这么多的好心人的帮助，我相信这个城市的春天一定会更加温暖，更加美丽。我更以我的父亲是一名农民工而骄傲。
Remember a famous poet once said: when winter goes, can spring be far behind? With the help of so many kind-hearted people, I believe that the spring of this city will be warmer and more beautiful. I am more proud that my father is a migrant worker.
