Excerpts from excellent essays for middle school students (1)
Wind, clouds, and rain on the heart
Wind, a slightly cool feeling.
The June breeze whisked by, knocking down the memory of the fall of the clear astringent, body and mind refreshing, from the fingertips percolate to the bottom of the heart. Stiff body in standing with the wind posture swaying. Leaves gently dance, the rustling sound intoxicates people with warmth and touches, touched in the rhythm of the big sound. I gently shed the sweat stains on my body, searching for the heart of a former teenager, and send myself clearly to the fuzzy memories.
The wind is a boat from the clouds, full of childhood longing, changing the heart of the water. So step by step to the place where there is water, reflecting the wind walked through the reflection, just can not be captured, let a wisp of melancholy in the smoke faded. The wind whipped the ripples on the water, stretching in the pure sight. The waves dance in the light of the gentle and delicate, in the gusts of humid air intoxicated, flip.
Clothes become disorganized in the reckless enjoyment, like the mood that can not be cleaned up. Throwing the sorrows, floating up and down in the wind, coalescing into a white paper, calling out the echo of childhood, leaving light and heavy creases, transformed into a paper airplane, in the wind as the road in the time tunnel fly ah fly. The curved arcs in the air are smiles, cries and unfinished dreams. When the paper airplane glides in a circle, the thoughts also swim in a continuation of the temperature of the past. When the plane slowly fell, the memory was crushed in the wave, and hidden in the wind wish still do the aftertaste of the frustration.
The wind's frustration lies in the clouds, the wind said, I often envy the clouds, because that is floating in my heart white.
The clouds, the whiteness of the heart.
Clouds, floating around, dancing with the wind, will bring my wishes together with the blue sky. I'm in pursuit of that white dream, light and soft, that is another cradle of fascination. I looked away, ran, and chased it all the way to the other side of the mountain. It is still so close to me, so far away, I am confused, frustrated, do not know whether I should continue to run, or waiting on the edge of the watch? How could the beauty of that cotton wool not be enviable? How can its ever-changing body not be mesmerizing? The sun shines on it, it uses its body to cover the sun's face, so its soft lines are covered with a golden luster, it is transformed into a horse, and then into a fish, and then rolling, and then waves. It was as beautiful as a maiden and as lively as a child. I want to fly to its side and possess it. But I don't know how to treat it and own it. It is in my heart is the holy petals, hold in the hand for fear of flying, in the mouth and afraid of melting.
I often dream that I become a cloud, colorful, come and go freely. The wind is my companion, swimming recklessly with me in the ocean of the sky, and we learn from the pious Quartet, racing against the sun. The wind tells me that we leave behind a tale of the sky's light and clouds *** wandering. I told the wind, don't run yet, the heavenly Quaestor expects our triumphant figure. The wind started to be fierce and so did my running, forgetting time and space. The sun tanned my skin black, I smiled at the wind, it's nothing, it's a healthy color. In the midst of running, I heard the sound of the quartet shouting for support, and I saw the appreciative smile of the sun. The wind said, running is a kind of power, we forget why we chase. I say, sometimes the chase does not need a reason, because it is a devout faith.
The sun gradually westward, we threw all the way through the drips and drops, the wind said, that is rain. I said, no, that is the spirit of dampness, the essence of water.
Rain, the damp spirit, the essence of water.
Warm heavenly rain, densely woven diagonally, like scattered curtains of water. The dry world becomes moist with the sound of dripping and knocking. The leaves become greener, the air becomes brighter, and people's moods begin to be rumpled. Hold a small umbrella in the rain walk, let the rain beat the heart of the years, into the ground deep and shallow puddles. The distant green hills in the dense smoke, people can not help but think of that poetry, such as painting, such as song, like a fairyland-like paradise. Smoke filled river has long been missing drifting fishing boats, and my thoughts are still immersed in that "green Ruo hat, green straw raincoat, the wind and rain do not have to return" in the situation, do not want to come out.
The warm rain cleansing how much dust of history, just I can not restore, can not be clearly visible to describe the sadness of the ancients. I can only hold a small umbrella, pacing on the road where the previous person has walked, with the youthful thoughts to savor a section of the remote story, and then turned into soil, hidden fragrance. The rain pattered down, slipping away in the cracks of the path, like a young girl hiding a sad past in her pharynx. Through the rain curtain to see the gray sky, dust and how many stories are not known? And I see to still just a rain, a small road, a lonely river, and I, holding a small umbrella, in the wind and rain in the shape of a single shadow stand.
The rain is the spirit of humidity, the soul of water. Just how many moving stories it makes are turned into dirt, and even the fragrance is hidden in the dirt. The fragrance that emanates into the air may be the story's trust, or my poor reverie. My tears attached to the rain fell, can not distinguish which is rain, that is tears, I do not know, that is not the essence of water.
The rain is still pattering down, and I can not read what it says, but only in the rain and fog to look at its posture.
Excerpts from Excellent Essays for Middle School Students (2)
Sunning the Moon
That night, it was dark, but the moon was unusually bright. I jokingly said to my friend who was standing next to me, "I want to eat a big cake."
"What are you talking about all of a sudden? You!"
"Look at the moon, doesn't it look like a big pie?"
"Oh ...... you glutton! By the way, have you ...... ever been in the sun?"
I looked at her strangely, aren't you always sunbathing whenever the sun rises?
"Tanned," I answered her.
"And have you sunned the moon?"
Sunbathing on the moon? What a strange idea. Quite funny, though. I giggled. My friend added, "On dark nights, we sit together next to a pillar and bask in the moon! Haha ......"
"You're such an oddball."
"It's good to have an oddball friend!"
And so we chatted until very late in the evening before parting reluctantly, neither of us wanting to end this interesting conversation.
At that time, we did not know, this time the separation is forever. The next day, we had a bad relationship, that is, the so-called "friendship". Now I think it is really ridiculous: together with three years of laughter of girlfriends for a little contradiction and cut off, this separation. They are not convinced, they do not apologize to each other, because they are too stubborn?
Every night, would like to sunshine the moon with her, but do not have the courage to bow down and admit fault. Himself stayed sitting next to the pillar looking at the moon, thinking whether she would come. But she didn't come in the end. Every night I looked at the moon expecting her to come, but every time I came home lost. I was even more angry: why didn't you come? Don't you miss our old days? I am determined not to bow down and admit fault!
Day after day, our relationship is getting more and more rigid, when passing by do not even look at each other, I am sad, but do not want to admit fault, this time I really feel helpless. What's even sadder is that I'm going to Korea in a few days. Before that, it's better to admit my fault with her and go to sunbathe on the moon for the last time!
At the end of the school day, I walked up to her and decided to apologize, but I choked on my words, what happened? What's wrong? Why can't I say it? She gave me a blank look, "What for? Nothing, just go away." She pushed me and walked straight past me.
The heart instantly stung.
The day to go to Korea arrived. I couldn't apologize to her in time, but I apologized a thousand, ten thousand times in my heart. When I left, I took one last look at the sky, and somehow I was particularly sad that I couldn't bask in the moon anymore. I stepped onto the plane, sat down in my seat, closed my eyes, and the tears came out.
The plane took off, goodbye, hometown ...... goodbye, odd friends.
......
Three years later, I returned to my hometown, and she has long been far away, no news.
Standing under the moon, basking in it, I missed her. Now she is the same as me, sitting beside the pillar sunbathing in the moon? I have lost a bosom friend, but the good thing is that I haven't lost the moonlight. It is always with me, as if she was right next to me.
I can lose her, but I can't forget our friendship; just like I can stay out of the sun, but I can't stay out of the moon.
Excerpts from excellent essays for middle school students (3)
A little condensation of smoke
The night, a hint of coolness, the wind, sniffing the jasmine in front of the window, the light fragrance, converged into a trace of tenderness, drunken starry sleepless night. At this time, I listened to a song "a little bit of condensation smoke". Classical gentle music slowly came, like a long lost friend, trekking thousands of mountains and waters to find me a thousand times, sweetly look back, met me in the jasmine fragrance moment. In the midst of joy, I abandoned the lock of my heart to the willow smoke and opened my heart to welcome a piece of heavenly music. The perfect combination of erhu and guzheng, a crisp and pleasant, reminiscent of the big pearls falling from the jade plate, a melodious and melancholy, people can not help but mourn a little. Close your eyes, let your thoughts drift into Zhuang Sheng's butterfly, branded with the beauty of the sea and moon, in the vastness of the blue field and warmth of the sun, fly, fly to the realm of a little condensed smoke.
The sound of the koto, such as the cold winter water, in the spring warm wind clear season, swung open a cavity of soft beauty, layer by layer, wave by wave, green tide of budding. Remotely, twenty-four bridges under the bright moon night, is the sound of the xiao for koto music, gently tell the dream of the regret of the previous dynasty, a talk is a thousand years, the world's frost shook down the southern red beans, ice on the end of the world within the sea, why, a bit of condensation of smoke around the music to do the sound does not fall apart, ringing in every corner of my heart. Guzheng around the ear, is the blue water gurgling and flowing, each note is like a head down and standing maidservant, pear blossom like snow face withered in the palace wall at the green willow. Guzheng is like water, carrying up how many dreams of life, floating up in the depths of the red dust, how many years, like water still flow, such as the beauty of the flowers has been hastily thanked the flowers red. Guzheng silk, and meditation in the mood, coiled into rolling hills, each peak, each endurance, are involved in the ancient legends. In the legend, there will be an immortal hermit? All day long away from the hustle and bustle, read the clouds rolled, the gentleman prudent in solitude of the ancient motto, dissolve into nature, look down on life. This koto music piled up in the mountains, leaving Confucius traveled around the rut, deep and shallow traces, written in the "know stop fixed, fixed and can be quiet, quiet and can be safe, safe and can be considered, considered and can be gained of the ancient aphorisms.
The erhu grudges, in my ears, always has a percolation into the bones of the cold, always blood and tears like an accusation of what. With this music, the erhu's rhythm is soft into smoke, soaring and soothing, flowing like a jade belt, y haunting the guzheng paved. Mountain, imagine, cloud smoke, mountain peaks hidden, sometimes show a corner, sometimes all hidden, and that smoke, just gently around, like a dream, like a poem, like a picture. Is that the reputation of the world's White Causeway, extended from a mountain, smoke with the embankment all the way to the dust drift, do not give up, snuggle up to each other, there is a West Lake Spring Dawn of the country and the city. Erhu array, lingering low, such as sobbing, is a wisp of smoke, blue water generated by the smoke, surrounded by a shroud of koto flow into the water, unwilling to disperse, refused to float away, according to the water, murmuring with the gentleman born of the coolness of my unborn. A little bit of cohesion, a thread of winding, finally built that broken bridge. Broken bridge should be covered with snow? No, the tenderness of the smoke dissolved the snow, flowing into the spell of the White Lady's water flooded San Francisco, to witness the thousand years of waiting for a vow. Erhu sound like smoke, around the mountain, around the water, the mountains and water, green smoke dance, purple mist, this is a fairyland on earth, during the swim, drink a pot of old wine, hang a green sword in the waist, ride a flat boat, with the water drifting, above the blue water, under the dome of the sky, the wind is full of sleeves, the intention of the full chest, and how cozy, such as if the real attempt, Fu Fu and what do I want?
Guzheng dingtong, a sound, like the morning bells and drums ringing a few times on earth, aroused a few of the most true memories, is the dust, blowing reed reed long wind, swept through my slightly confused heart, a hard to find secluded into a grain of seed, implanted in my heart, I should be a pious worship, so that it prospered into the sky tree. Erhu melodious, a burst, like a thousand years of dust, dispersing the immortal wind and bone, brush away the dirt of my heart, those sadness and happiness, generated a meteor, flashed through a trace, fell into the vast universe. Looking back to the end of the world, the old dream is far away, only to hear the condensed smoke a little light sob dust. The color of the night is like water, the sound of music is like water, drenched in my thin sleeves, is the music to provoke people, or people to provoke music?
A bit of condensed smoke around the blue water, half a wisp of wind around the broken bridge, thinking, I will be intoxicated do not know the way back. In any case, I can not close the scattered thoughts, and with the "a little condensation of smoke" of the beautiful melody of the God travel. Sent between the landscape, see the sun and the moon thousands of years, is my heart's most true and primitive hope, in each section of life, I have lost a lot of dreams, but only this feeling, still disk in my heart, indestructible. In the heavy night, I borrowed a piece of classical music, and realized my own dream, as some things, by myself.
"A little smoke" holding the fragrance of jasmine, for me to sew a fine dress, put on, on the self-indulgence, feeling from the heart to the outside of the beauty of the one, at this moment, the heart is clear, throw away the right and wrong, throw away the greed, anger, dementia. Eileen Chang said, "Short is the life, long is the ordeal." In the life of a fleeting horse, treat yourself and others well. You see, the color of spring has not yet had time to fade, the autumn moon is already full of smiles. Such a short life, live every day, I hope that everyone is born as summer flowers, but less green fat and red thin regret.
The Buddhist scriptures say: the phase is born from the heart, the heart of all the laws born, a thousand people have a thousand kinds of imagination. A bit of condensed smoke" I heard out of this state of mind, this kind of scenery, realized the flavor of Zen, Zen concept. So what do you hear when you go to listen?
Excerpts from excellent essays for middle school students (4)
Mother
My mother is a local peasant woman,
Excerpts from excellent essays for middle school exams. There are three brothers and sisters in my family, and my mother is always busy, laboring hard for us every day. From the back door of our hall to the kitchen, there is a section of pathway that has been walked by my mother for decades, a standard fifteen steps at a time.
I remember when I was a child, we didn't know what it was, we all fought to let our mother hold us, and she couldn't pick up the three of us. But we all cried and argued. So the mother left and right to hold two, followed by a, to and from this path, taking us in this fifteen steps of the path to practice walking ......
Time flies, in a flash, I have been a junior high school student. In the third year, due to the home is relatively far, will choose to live in school, a week to go home once, every time I go home, my mother is always in that fifteen steps back and forth on the path, for me to do a delicious meal. Mother in a hurry, in the fifteen steps on the path running, because too anxious, mother's hand at some point, a large piece of red meat exposed, is dripping bright red blood. I can't help but feel guilty, busy saying, "Mom, you don't do it, I don't want to eat."" It does not matter, mom is fine ......"
One day, go home, my mother said to me, "three children, you see, mom walk this road is always fifteen steps, but today how more than three steps?"
I thought to myself, "Mom, maybe you counted wrong?" So I said, "Mom, you go, I'll count."
Mother then walked on that path, I seriously counted: "one, two, three ......" looking at the mother's face that was carved with the marks of the years, that bent down the back, can not help but tears. Three more steps, the mother is old.
This makes me experience for the first time what is the mother's love, what is the age does not wait for people. I hope we can all experience the labor of parents. Experience the preciousness of youth. The first thing you need to do is to get your hands dirty. Cherish mother's love and experience it with your heart!
Excerpts from excellent essays for middle school students (V)
Experience? is also a fortune
Opening Song
Cao Xueqing - a nobody. But she herself is pretentious, diary she often wrote: "I am not a mediocre woman, when Cao Xueqin's book "Dream of Red Mansions" boom moved the world of literature. Now, I have to ...... experience the feeling of celebrity. The so-called "the world is clear all learning, people practice that article" Well. So Xueqing began her road to experience life. But that day, something happened seems to be a bit ......
Halfway out of a "Cheng Bite Jin"
This day, Xueqing in the classroom conceptualization of her "dream", and suddenly came out of the window a whimpering sound, which turned out to be Xueqing's desk mate Daidai desire. She was holding a box of antique books, her face was full of incomparable proud smile. Xueqing walked over to see what happened, Dai desire with that almost contemptuous eyes disdainfully said "I wrote a collection of short stories published, the publisher sent me a set of hardcover edition, there are two hundred dollars in fees! Hearing this, and then look at the kind of eyes, Xueqing seems to want to cry a little bit of feeling, the heart is sour, she reluctantly towards Dai desire to smile, ran out. She came to the school pond, the green leaves clattered under the breeze, and seemed to cry for Di Desire as well. A white cloud drifted over and blocked out the sun, and Xueqing looked at it out of breath. Not long after the sun slowly broke through, revealing a smiling face. Xueqing whispered: "Maybe this is an experience!" When Cao Xueqin was experiencing the process of a large family from prosperity to decline, and wrote an enduring work, I am now not precisely in the experience of a feeling of the same kind of loss, a feeling of despair?" All worldly matters are learned, and human feelings are written." I now also want to add a sentence: "life experience into a work," as long as I seize the opportunity to experience every experience, I will certainly line."
Epilogue
A month passed, Xueqing's article was like a stone sinking into the sea, and Dai wanted to sneer at her even more, "Jia", "You're a piece of stone that doesn't get the hang of things, but also want to write a book, dream on, you! Xueqing only laughed in the face of Dai Lust. At school she was exceptionally strong, but at home she often washed her face with tears, lamenting: "Why? What's wrong with me? Why can't I write a good essay?" Finally, one day, she received a letter from the publisher, and when she opened it with an excited heart, it said, "Please submit to another organization. But Xueqing was unusually calm. She smiled, went home and wrote in her diary: Experience is also a treasure! I have been very satisfied, but I have to work tirelessly to create more wealth.
The Big Finish
As long as you put your heart into it, miracles happen, and I believe that in the near future, Xueqing will succeed. Even if she fails, she has already achieved a fortune - experience!
Excerpts from Excellent Essays for Secondary School Students (6)
In the days of the fight against SARS
When the sunlight was more ambiguous than a while, and it was even a little hot, when the leaves of the trees were greener than a while, and even a little bit more emerald, and when the rainfall was denser than a while and even a little bit more intense,
The number of cases of SARS gradually declined,
These days are not only a time of fighting, but they are also the time of fighting. I'm not sure how much I'm going to be able to do that. In my heart, I silently calculate how many more days mom and dad can come back. At this time, I desperately want to see my mom and dad, another feeling like a spring gurgling out.
A, March 14th morning, after breakfast, mom and dad to facilitate the work of the hospital to work in a hurry, the night is very late did not come back. I finished my homework, sitting and waiting for mom and dad, an hour, two hours ...... I fell asleep in a daze, I do not know how long, mom kindly woke me up, I was going to the bedroom, mom's voice hoarsely said: "small X, tomorrow, dad and I will be in the hospital to join the fight against" SARS "first aid team, I'm afraid that there is a long time can not be I'm afraid I won't be able to come back for a long time. ...... "What am I going to do? I don't know how to answer." Xiao X, "SARS" is threatening the people's life safety, we are doctors, in this critical moment, we should be obliged to rescue the patient, "The next is a period of silence." Mom and Dad, you go, I'll take care of myself, I'm grown up." Then I helped mom and dad organize things together. Mom taught me how to take care of myself, I always used to think that my mom's words were too wordy, but now they sound so kind....... In the morning, it was drizzling under the gray sky, ( ) Mom made breakfast early, and after our family of three ate it, Mom and Dad exchanged a few words and then had to leave.I tried not to let myself cry, but when looking at the their background faded away, but the tears have long blurred eyes.
B. A day of chaos
The next morning, the morning's nemesis - the alarm clock will drag me out of my dreams, and hastily scrubbed, have to find a way to feed their stomachs, they decided to do the eggs, open the gas stove, accidentally poured half a bottle of sesame oil, eggs, too much force fingers into the shells, making two hands of the eggs. eggshells, making both hands sticky, scrambled eggs in a hurry to pour half a bottle of soy sauce, sprinkled into a spoonful of salt. Looking at the black and bubbling eggs, I suddenly felt ......
The evening is good, time is more sufficient, after writing homework, received a phone call from my father. After receiving the call, I suddenly remembered that the clothes had not been washed. I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to do that, but I'm sure I'll be able to do it, and I'm sure I'll be able to do it, and I'm sure I'll be able to do it, and I'm sure I'll be able to do it.
C, I want to Mom and Dad
Idle time, I want to Mom and Dad, turned out the family photo album, looked at, looked at, the nose is sour, tears seem to open the flood ......
In the fight against "SARS" in the days of my life there are bitter and joyful and homesickness. But I experienced the sanctity of my mom and dad's work and my life as a medical child, and I experienced ......
In the days of the fight against SARS, I experienced a lot.
Excerpts from an Excellent Essay for Middle School Students (7)
Sunshine of the Soul
Preface
Though this is a childish novel, it is something I have experienced.
Today, the weather was good, and Xiaoling asked Beware to go for a walk in the newly built square. But careful but reluctant, she disliked this sunny day, she only like two people in the damp cabin tea, reading. But because it is a good friend of the appointment, had to go to go.
The bridge
Because of the heavy traffic, the two talked and laughed on the bridge. The left side of the bridge was brightly lit by the sun. Xiao Ling involuntarily went to the left side to take a sun bath. But Beware put away his smile and walked into the shadows of the skyscrapers on the right." Hey, Beware, why don't you come over here? The sun is so bright here!"" You know I've always hated the sun."" How can you hate the sun, why don't you come and feel the shower of sunshine?" Careful didn't answer Little Spirit, but asked instead, "Do you know Kafka?"
Kafka
Kafka is one of the greatest writers of the 20th century, why did Careful mention him? Careful narrates, "Kafka's The Castle is my favorite novel to read, and he once said he needed a castle because he hated sunlight, and sunlight was his worst enemy in writing!" I hate sunlight too, I don't need it!" No" retorted the little spirit, "You can't live without sunlight? Without sunlight, can you survive, or can everything survive?" Without the sunlight all life would not end, and the sunlight is the most just and selfless, it never favors anyone." Is it?" Careful sneer: "I'll tell you a story!"
Sunshine
"Once upon a time, there was an old man who lived next door to my old house. He had a house and three sons, but they all lived in the city and none of them went to the suburbs to be with him. The old man's house was so big that the front house was empty and the old man lived in the back house. In addition to three meals a day, sleep, the rest of the time the old man is lying in the yard sunbathing, sunbathing has become the only pleasure of the old man. When it was cloudy and rainy, the old man could not get sunshine and coughed terribly. Later, the old man's three sons started a real estate business. They took the old man's real estate license, stripped the front house and built a high building. After that, the old man couldn't get any sun, even on such sunny days. The sons gave the old man a lot of money, but before the high-rise was built, the old man died, a suicide, with only one sentence in his suicide note: "What I need most is sunshine!"" Be careful, the story is finished." Xiao Ling was silent for a long time, suddenly spoke: "Can you take me to see the hut?"
The Hut
Careful, Little Spirit arrived at the hut, which had long been in disrepair. Little Spirit pushed open the door and suddenly a look of excitement people appeared on her face." Careful, look there's a patch of sunlight here!" This ...... how is it possible?"" It's reflected from the mirror over there, so brilliant! ...... "Do you think the old man knows that there is a piece of sunshine here, will he still go to death?"" I don't know."" Actually everyone needs sunshine! I need it, and so did Kafka. It's the desire to live. Only you and Kafka put that belovedness in the darkness, and the old man and I put that longing in the sunlight. What we need most is a spirit, a soul, a sunshine of the heart!"
Postscript
The sunshine of the heart is selfless for everyone, because it is in their own hands. People and their whole life need the sunshine of the mind, with it, there is life, youth and vigor! Although this is just a little childish novel, but I will remember that old man's story all my life, and remember that the most important thing that people need in their lives is the sunshine of the soul.