The True Goal

A black wallet lay on the dusty street amidst the footsteps of the bustling crowd. Perhaps because it had been exposed to the elements for too many days, it was caked in grime; perhaps because passersby were too preoccupied with their own affairs to notice its existence, they accidentally stepped on it. It sat there like a lost child on the street, lonely and expectant, waiting for its mother to arrive.

Just then, a tender, childish voice reached my ears. "Mom, look! It's a wallet!" A little boy in a school uniform tugged at his mother's sleeve.

The mother looked in the direction the child was pointing and saw the dust-covered wallet. As the little boy bent down to pick it up, his mother grabbed him and stopped him. "Oh my, what do you think you're doing? That belongs to someone else. We can't take it! Be good, listen to Mom, and let's go home!" "But Mom, the teacher said if we find someone else's things, we should turn them over to the police officer. So I want to give it to the police officer." The little boy pleaded with his mother, but she ignored his entreaties and hurriedly said, "Let's go, let's go. Mom is busy and still has to go home to cook dinner. You hurry home and do your homework too, be good! Listen to me!" The mother urged him on, pulling his small hand as they left quickly. The little boy was pulled away very reluctantly, looking back with every step. Before long, the little boy could no longer see the wallet; it had long been submerged by the footsteps of the crowd.

At this moment, a stylishly dressed woman walked by, talking on her mobile phone. She was speaking excitedly into the device. Suddenly, her dainty high heel tripped over something, and she looked down to see the black wallet. "I'm so lucky today, guess what? I found a wallet!" she said, standing on tiptoe and lowering her voice into the phone. "Hehe, I wonder how much money is inside! Do you think I'll strike it rich? I can go buy a lottery ticket today; I'm just so lucky!" She bent her slightly plump frame to examine the wallet. Just then, whatever was said on the other end of the phone made her recoil as if she had touched a thorn, and she dropped the wallet. With a sharp "snap," the wallet hit the ground, and the eyes of the passersby were immediately drawn to the sound. Seeing that the situation was unfavorable, the woman ignored the confused gazes of the crowd and whatever was being said on the phone, fleeing the scene as fast as a rabbit.

As the sun set, the dust-covered wallet still lay on the ground. It faced the setting sun, as if recounting the suffering it had endured over these past few days. Just then, a scavenger appeared, wearing a tattered hat, his dark face so filthy and disfigured that one could neither see his true features nor discern his age. His gaze swept back and forth across the street, finally settling on the black wallet. He picked it up without hesitation and opened it; there wasn't a single cent inside, only a set of keys. He let out a sigh, thinking to himself, Sigh, it looks like there's no harvest today. He hung the wallet and the keys together on a fence. The wallet hung like a flag and the keys like a flagpole, both gilded by the light of the setting sun. The sunset watched the scavenger go, his departing silhouette also bathed in the soft glow of the sun. In that instant, his figure left me with countless revelations: "Even if you were to find countless gold and silver treasures, as long as they are not yours, you must not claim them as your own, because they belong to someone else. This is what is truly meant by 'not picking up what is dropped on the road.'"

Such a scene of integrity, where one does not pocket what they find, truly moved me!