The Legend of the Wh

His breath grew more and more labored, his lungs like a bellows struggling for air. He found some strength somewhere to shake with the effort of raising his hand to touch that tiny flower-like face, forcing a smile.,My temples are frosted with age, and my hair is white. There's nowhere to express the profound sadness I feel. As a child, I was unable to repay the grace of having been raised with such love and care. Scenes from my childhood flood back, making me realize how unworthy I am of my parents' devotion.,The family members in the ward were all crying, and I could hear what the doctor was saying, a last glimmer of life.。