It was alovely spring afternoon. My classmates and I were playing1onthe playground when I let out a cry, "Ow! Ow! Something in my shoe isbiting me!"
Everyonewas shocked by the cry. They took me into a classroom and were about to takeoff my shoe. "Which foot is it?" one asked. "Let2havea look."
Suddenly,I remembered the holes in my socks. My family was3poorduring those years that my parents couldn't buy me good socks. Instead, I worewelfare socks,4cost only a little, but those cheapsocks didn't last long. They soon had holes at the bottom.
I refused5offmy shoes. I couldn't stand others seeing the holes in my socks. I tried to holdback my tears. Yet, each time the thing in my shoe bit me, tears raced down myface.
Myteacher, Miss Diane, hurried into6classroom. "What'swrong?" she asked.
"Something is biting her right foot,7shedoesn't allow anyone to take off her shoe," one of my classmates answered.
Miss Dianelived next door to me. She knew everything8my family. She put9handson my shaking shoulders and looked into my painful and hopeless eyes.
"Oh,yes, it10be a sock-eating ant," she said, asif she had already seen the thing inside the shoe. "I remember11Ihad a bite from one of those ants. By the time I got my shoe off, it had eatenalmost the whole bottom of my sock." My classmates nodded while they werelistening to the teacher carefully, although they all looked a little12.
Miss Dianetook off my right shoe and sock and13them over the dustbin.Two red ants fell into it. "Just what I thought. The ants have eaten partof her sock." When she stroke an alcohol (酒精) cotton ball on the bites, she added, "you are14bravegirl to take so many bites."
Thealcohol felt cool on the bites and a little girl's pride15bythe "sock-eating ant" story.
