Over the years, time went by in a hurry, like running water, carving marks in my father’s face. Father has enjoined me not to forget contribute to the society. Certainly, I am supposed to. After all, it’s society helped us in the riffle and we should repay. I was sickly when childhood. Once, I was caught in the rain with my father on our way back home from the hospital. It had been raining for three days. Those years were in chaos. Not long after the waters receded in 1998, SARS had swept through the earth of China in 2002, and people’s living condition got worse by the day. I vaguely remember that father hold my hands tightly, carried young I on his back that seemed like the heaven, even the whole world to me. I could feel the temperature of his body, dispelling the fear from the stream passing the bank and up to his knees. In the faint, a group of people were walking through in front of us, working hard to help us. The men were blocking the flood and the women were helping passers clean up the small stuff. “Comrade, deliver him over to us.” A pair of strong hands passed to the front of my father. My father hesitated a moment, then solemnly gave me to her. Quietly built a bridge, with difficulty as its water, work relations as the foundation, firmly set up on the water. Even to now, when I recall those, the "bridge" is still high on both sides as a connection. Therefore, I will be a part of the "bridge," to participate!