父親總覺得我們家的臺階低，我們家的臺階有三級，用三塊青石板鋪成，那石板多年前由父親從山上背下來，每塊大約有三百來斤重，那個石匠笑著為父親托在肩膀上，說是能一口氣背到家，不收石料錢。結果父親一下子背了三趟，還沒覺得花了太大的力氣，只是那一來一去的許多山路，磨破了他一雙麻筋草鞋，父親感到太可惜，那石板沒經石匠光面，就鋪在家門口，多年來，風吹雨淋，人踩牛踏，終于光滑了些，但磨不平那一顆顆硬幣大的小凹凼，臺階上積了水時，從堂里望出去，有許多小亮點。
To his surprise, my father took three trips back and forth in one shot without feeling much fatigue, but he felt it a great pity that his hemp straw sandals were worn out on all those mountain paths. The slates were laid at the door of the house without any masonry polishing. Over the years, they became somewhat smooth after getting beaten by winds and rains and trodden by people and cattle. However, the concave puddles as small as a dollar coin were about the same. When the steps were filled with water, you could see many tiny sparkling dots looking out from the hall.
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