Only ........
The touching moments of life
Quietly strolling by the lake, it is the windy and sunny evening, I leisurely enjoy the picturesque scenery.
This is the April weather, warm sunshine affectionately caressing people's faces, the sky blue blue, as sapphire general, white as snow clouds fluttering lightly. The grass on the shore enjoys the favor of the spring girl, the green little head swaying in the wind. Ice-clear magnolia buds, want to open still shy, elegant and serene; golden spring flowers bloomed, in the welcome of spring; peach blossoms in full bloom, pink, like a little girl's red lips, the breeze, there are petals fall, which is probably peach blossoms shedding pink tears! I raised my eyes to look, the willow tree burst green, dancing, like a young girl in the display of their beautiful posture. Occasionally, a few swallows soar freely, drawing a beautiful arc from the sky.
Spring is full of vitality, a vibrant, I feel the vitality of life, the beauty of life, life is precious. The heart of an inexplicable touch, a desire for life! I was moved to tears, this beautiful scenery is not just like our colorful life? Life is beautiful and short. Sunset lovingly to the lake gilded, glittering lake jumping, with my heart in the swing...
Life gives us how much touching, how much vitality. No one does not want to have life, no one does not want to make life longer, people live is how good things, we have to spend a good life to repay the world.
Touched
There is a glass in my heart, which stores big and small; red and green things. That is the record chip of my sweet and sour, from which a small piece is taken out at random and inserted into the wave stream of my memory ------
As a toddler, I was very playful. There was a small river near the school, and the water was especially clear and green. In the summer, the river fish, shrimp, ah especially much. Especially the big lobster, or slightly floating on the water surface, or hidden in the water plants. The lobster is also very easy to hook, a on is two, three. Look at the little friends face of the spirit and joy, I also itchy, joined the team of shrimp fishing. As I was too small, I accidentally stepped on a hole and fell into the river. I floundered in the water, screaming ------ just as a teacher passed by, he rushed down the river bank, do not care about undressing, rushed into the water, dragged me to the shore. I don't know whether it is because of the fall into the water was shocked, or young and ignorant, I looked at the teacher who was soaked to the skin, I actually did not move ------
In elementary school, I was still so playful. The tirelessness of the daytime, the night will sleep very, very heavy, and often can not get up in the morning. In order not to be late, I therefore often forgot to bring my lunch box in my haste. In the middle of the day, my stomach naturally sang the unbearable "empty city", and the students that delicious look more make me almost salivate. At this point, the class teacher will always take out half of the rice in her box, let me *** with sharing. Strangely enough, the teacher always ate very little, but she always said she was full. I don't know why. Looking at the teacher's motherly smile, I'm still not touched ------
Middle school, I was faced with an increase in the curriculum, the burden of learning increased, there is no way to have to play with the "bye-bye". I was buried in the sea of books every day, immersed in the sea of questions. Teachers also grasp very tightly, often a front leg in, a back leg out. I am strong by nature, in order to make my grades not to be very embarrassing, I can really be considered to learn without getting tired of it, ask without getting tired of it. As soon as I had time, I asked my teacher for advice. Sometimes even when the teacher to eat to catch. Teachers often immediately put down the rice bowl, while sassafras forehead sweat, while patiently give me answers. Perhaps the pressure of learning is too much, perhaps busy squeezing time, in the face of the teacher's slightly weary face, I still have not moved ------
I am about to participate in the midterm examination, in order to squeeze into the heavy high school that the one-track bridge, learning is even more hard, it is simply waste of sleep and food. Once, I fell asleep in English class. Surprisingly, the teacher was actually beside me, and even more surprisingly, she didn't wake me up. After class, she just said softly, "You'll catch a cold if you sleep in class, you know?" Looking at the breeze whisked up the few strands of bangs, my eyes ------
Memory wheel stopped turning, my thoughts were pulled back to reality, there is a trace of cool salty astringent feeling on the face, which is touched? This is moving!
While flipping through the book, a ginkgo leaf quietly slipped off.
I bent down and picked it up, and realized that it was given to me by my classmate when I graduated from junior high school, and on the back was written "Precious, my friend." I don't remember if I felt the urge to cry at that time, but now, the yellow leaves are already dripping with tears. I think, there is another kind of emotion in this world called moving.
For a long time, I seem to have forgotten what it's like to be touched, is my heart has been indifferent, or my heart is filled with some insignificant things that have no space?
A friend once wrote me this sentence: "The reason why we will pass by, not because of no fate, but our life is less than two words - moving." Indeed, our hearts are therefore no longer sensitive, we are no longer with the heart to collect up around the slightest touch, only when we miss it, and then look back, only to find that we really lost a lot.
There are always people complaining that there are fewer and fewer things in the world to be touched by. However, as long as we quietly think about it, you will find that, in fact, touched all the time, everywhere.
Reading tired, parents for us to peel an apple, is touched; thirsty, a friend to help you play back a cup of water, is touched; frustrated, to get a word of relief, is touched; happy, there are friends to share the joy with you, is touched; ordinary days, received a small blessing, even if only a petal, a leaf, is also touched... ...
People, how many ordinary things are touched every day! Perhaps it is their ordinariness that sometimes blinds us to them. There is such a saying: "The reason why people will be moved, because he lives in love." There is love in the dust, there is love on earth, and what reason do we have to let the mediocrity blind our eyes and can not feel the taste of moving it?
What is moving? A thousand people have a thousand answers. But, no matter who, can not say to a person without feelings what is really moving. Because moving is not with the mouth to say out, but with the heart to taste out.
Touched, like a refreshing spring. Drinking from it, our hearts become clear and bright.
Touched, like the intoxicating sea breeze. Feeling the sea breeze, our hearts become pure and spacious.
Touched, like the snow that makes people's hearts flutter. When we enjoy the snow, our hearts become quiet and peaceful.
When the world is no longer touched by the footprints of the time, then it has also become a frozen world. It is cold and unfeeling.
Friends, please pull your heart out of the mud! Please make a little space to carry this enough to let us recall a lifetime of moving it!
Touched by happiness
There is a feeling called happiness, there is a kind of happiness called moving. And I am one of the lucky girls who will enjoy this kind of happiness.
That winter, it snowed heavily. The night before New Year's Eve, I was lying by the window watching the snow. The lights were filled with flakes of snow, as if they couldn't contain the joy that filled my heart. The sound of firecrackers, one after another, overflowed with the warm atmosphere of the coming Spring Festival. Everything seemed to be reflected in the background of the orange-red light, including the vaguely visible strands of silver hair caught in my parents' tresses, which shone brightly in this winter night painting.
I will never forget how my parents raised me. They watered me with simplicity and kindness, and let their intelligence and enthusiasm penetrate me, so that my little flower grew up happily and strongly. Can't remember how many times, I fell down, parents with encouraging eyes and kind smile, let me pull myself together, stand up again; can't forget how many nights, I'm under the lamp to study my homework, my parents are also under the lamp sitting dumbly, silently accompanying me for most of the night ------ can't remember how many pieces of small things full of parental love, can't forget how many parents parents like the sun caring for them ------
Suddenly, feel the light is full of love, in the snowflakes flying, my face unconsciously wet. Looking at this peaceful night scene, I suddenly have a kind of moving, feel that I should do something for it, the next day I want to give mom and dad a surprise.
The next day at dawn, I quietly got up. The goose feather-like snow that had fallen all night had decorated the earth with a bright sky, and even the sunlight coming in through the window was so dazzling. I hurriedly pushed open the door of my room, once I pushed open the door, I froze. A snow doll standing in front of my house, playful look, head with a big red hat, waving "big hands", grinning sweet smile. With a giggle, I couldn't help but laugh too. "Happy New Year!" Two people came out from behind the snow doll, it turned out to be mom and dad, they looked at me tenderly. My nose suddenly turned sour, and I couldn't hold back my tears. I wanted to give my parents a--
I didn't expect them to ------ face my parents' smile, I was speechless. Right there on the snow, I pulled my mom and dad, looked y for a long, long time ------
Remember a poet said, "Let me how to thank you, when I walk towards you, I originally wanted to harvest a wisp of spring wind, you gave me the whole spring; let me how to thank you, when I walk towards you, I originally wanted to cupped a cluster of waves, you gave me the whole ocean." Yes, how can I thank you, mom and dad. You gave me life, you gave me strength, you gave me happiness, and I have nothing to give back. There's a feeling called happiness, and there's a happiness called being touched. Thank you, mom and dad, for giving me happiness and for letting me learn to be touched. I understand your hard work, I know you are full of hope, I will do my best to give you happiness, so that you can learn to move!
What is a touch? A kind smile? A loving assistance? Or is it a righteous sacrifice?
The concept of touching is too wide and too broad: as small as a concerned look, as big as a sacrifice of life. Sometimes, a ray of morning sunshine, a melodious bird song, or even a busy ant can make people moved.
Touching comes from the bottom of one's heart, and the slight waves and ripples will make one's heart flutter. In fact, I am a girl who is easily moved. A look of trust, a word of encouragement, an inadvertent touch will move me. After a night of struggle, a ray of sunshine in the morning often accompanies my tears. Long-lost friends meet, a cup of light tea, often make me feel a lot of emotion inside: that light fragrance is not just like a friend to give me a smile and care,---- refreshing, aftertaste.
Touched is omnipotent, she can melt the frozen heart, will be broken heart healing. I remember I once read a science fiction book about a girl who had special abilities since she was a child, but she never used them because the price she paid for using them was her life. Until one time, the girl used her special ability to save her brother, and woke up her brother who was closed up in his soul. Her special function was this - to find a small gap in the closure of a person's soul, to invade the person's heart, to stir up all the good memories she had, so that the small fragments of the heart would begin to melt, thus awakening the closed soul. It is true that the story is fictional, but I firmly believe that the heart that saves the soul is genuine.
Touching is everywhere, touching has infinite power, touching urges people to advance! With a moment of gratitude, you will find that life is touching everywhere, and the earth is so beautiful!
When I was flipping through the book, a ginkgo biloba leaf quietly slipped down.
I bent down, picked it up, and realized that it was given to me by my classmate when I graduated from junior high school, and on the back was written "Precious, friend!" I don't remember if I felt the urge to cry at that time, but now, the yellow leaves are already dripping with tears. I think, there is another kind of emotion in this world called moving.
For a long time, I seem to have forgotten what it's like to be touched, is my heart has been cold, or my heart is filled with some insignificant things that have no space?
A friend once wrote me this sentence: "The reason why we will pass by, not because of no chance, but our life is less than two words - moving." Indeed, our hearts are therefore no longer sensitive, we are no longer with the heart to collect up around the slightest touch, only when we miss it, and then look back, only to find that we really lost a lot.
There are always people complaining that there are fewer and fewer things in the world to be touched by. However, as long as we quietly think about it, you will find that, in fact, touched all the time, everywhere.
Reading tired, parents for us to peel an apple, is touched; thirsty, a friend to help you play back a cup of water, is touched; frustrated, to get a word of relief, is touched; happy, there are friends to share the joy with you, is touched; ordinary days, received a small blessing, even if only a petal, a leaf, is also touched... ...
People, how many ordinary things are touched every day! Perhaps it is their ordinariness that sometimes blinds us to them. There is such a saying: "The reason why people will be moved, because he lives in love." There is love in the dust, there is love on earth, and what reason do we have to let the mediocrity blind our eyes and can not feel the taste of moving it?
What is moving? A thousand people have a thousand answers. But, no matter who, can not say to a person without feelings what is really moving. Because moving is not with the mouth to say, but with the heart to taste out.
The gaze moved me
The sun was setting, and the west wind was tightening.
Leaves are falling, and autumn is coming with the tired fallen leaves. Autumn has come, and people are sad with autumn, and thin with autumn. Thoughts shake the leaves off the branches. Hang your thoughts all over the tree branches, thinking about the autumn of the falling leaves, thinking about the eyes of the children waiting for them to return to the reunion under the falling leaves.
The leaves are still falling, and from a distance they look like a group of tired butterflies. There is a lonely figure under the fallen leaves, that is the mother, a mother looking into the distance waiting for her children to come home. She looked straight at the road in the distance, that gaze is so resolute. Convinced that there must be the figure of her children in front of her eyes. A firm heart, a pair of eager eyes, that gaze is too touched me.
I sigh, the development of the times fade away the human affection; I sigh, a hopeful heart, a pair of expectant eyes did not see the expected figure. I began to sigh, sigh we have more and more convenient cell phone, but not more and more greetings; sigh we have more and more fast transportation, but seldom go home to visit the mother's lonely figure under the falling leaves and the touching gaze; sigh we can send the satellite to the moon, but not to send our hearts to home. Time is developing, technology is progressing, while the distance between people and home is getting bigger and bigger.
Home, to the fallen leaves waiting for the return of their children's mother a joy; home to a pair of expectant eyes a ray of hope; home to a lonely heart a comfort. Home is like a tree, and far away from his hometown is just a piece of fallen leaves, tree starting point is only one, and the end is also only one, go home to put you full of branches due to growth and green home it. The mother's gaze is how touching, how she hopes to have their children's greetings, how I hope that the children like her to hold them as hours, to hold her hand through the vicissitudes of the world, to walk through the life of the last course of the road.
Remembering that the smoke from the cooker is swaying because of the return of the wanderer, for the wanderer who is far away from home whether he sees it or not, whether it makes them remember the way home. Don't let that touching gaze, look off the wanderers' road of no return. Years can not reach out a hand for you to grasp the past clouds, cherish the present time, go back to look at that touching gaze under the falling leaves!
Leaves, still in the fall, as far as a tired butterfly, quietly gathered up the beauty of their lives. Just for that one vow, a greeting or just that touching gaze.
DingZing ......", with a burst of crisp bell ringing, the teacher announced that we were out of class. And urged us, "The snowstorm is coming soon, you have to go home quickly, can't stay and play on the roadside, must pay attention to safety!" My classmates and I immediately packed up our schoolbags and ran out of the classroom after hearing this.
When I came to the roadside, I saw dark clouds rolling in the sky, and people coming and going on the road, all in a hurry to rush home, so I also accelerated my pace. When I got to a crossroads, a bicyclist knocked a little girl to the ground, and when he saw that no one was looking, he quickly rode away. I saw that the little girl's feet were skinned and blood was seeping out, and the girl was so scared that she cried. The pedestrians on the road didn't pay any attention to her. I felt sorry for her so I rushed over to her and used the hand towel that my mom had given me in my school bag to help her wipe the blood, and she cried and screamed, "It hurts! Ouch! It hurts ......!" I said, "You endure a little, wipe clean I will send you home, where do you live?" "In the Century Square," she choked, "What a coincidence! I live there too." I wiped it off and helped her limp home.
Finally, I got to her door, she told me she was there, and I knocked on the door, and the little girl's mother welcomed us in and thanked me, and took out candies and cookies and gave them to me to eat, and I was so embarrassed that I went home quickly.
Walking on the way home, although the sky was gray, but I still feel extraordinarily happy. Because I did a very meaningful thing today, and at the same time, I realized that helping others can make me happy! I hope everyone can give a little love, never like that uncle as irresponsible for their own behavior!