Whether in school or in society, we all inevitably have to come into contact with the essay, right? The essay can be divided into narrative, expository, application essay and argumentative essay according to the genre. So the question is, in the end, how to write an excellent essay? The following is my collection of deep memory of the first year essay, welcome to share.
Memory deep first year essay 1Everyone has a flower in their heart, recording the sweet and sour, joy and sorrow in everyone's life.
I remember in the fourth grade at noon, the class teacher Jiang teacher in the classroom to share the meal, I was taking the meal at the same time, by the way, to help Xiaoli also took a copy, unexpectedly, my hand slipped, Xiaoli's portion to knock over, at the moment, I found that the teacher Jiang with a kind of dignified gaze to me, and then called me to one side, gently said to me: you help Xiaoli to take the meal is a good thing, but you are so skinny, to take the two boxes of rice that will easily tip over. What should we do now? Either you two share a bowl of rice, or you let her have your rice, your choice. I lowered my head, my face flushed red and white, not daring to look at my classmates again. Since I was the one who spilled that rice, I should take the responsibility, so I decided to let Xiao Li eat it. After I cleaned up the meal, I sat in my seat, let my stomach sing the empty city, smelled the smell of rice, the heart is really not a taste.
Soon, Ms. Jiang's footsteps are getting closer and closer to us, at that time I was excited, looking forward to the delicious descent, I did not expect Ms. Jiang to put her own bowl of noodles on my table, and then bent down, said to me in a long-winded way: Well, don't be sad, eat it, it will not be good if it gets cold. A stream of warmth rushed straight to my heart, and the indisputable tears desperately swirled in my eyes as I ate the noodles while shedding tears.
That sweet and sour flavor I will definitely be engraved in my heart, sour is aggression, sweet is moving.
The sunflower in my heart, although the appearance is not outstanding, obscure, but has a tenacious vitality, optimistically looking at the sun, slowly blooming its beauty.
Deep Memory First Year Essay 2A cool wind blew across the earth, filling the dead earth with life. Those delicate roses and noble peonies are whispering: "Look at the roses in the corner, so insouciant, blooming so ordinary, but still dare to be with us ......" I think: the roses in my memory have their own unique beauty.
When I was a child, I liked bright and noble flowers, red like fire, so many bright colors penetrate my heart, making me excited and thrilled. However, they did not attract me for a long time. After a long time, I found that those noble flowers, are smug, no one in sight, there is always a kind of see everyone think "you have what great" idea.
By chance, I found some simple flowers in a very inconspicuous corner of my grandmother's neighborhood. The light pink color warmed me, and the purity was exactly comparable to that of a lotus flower. It looked so tender that it seemed to come out of the water at the slightest touch. It made me feel a bit like a dream, a faint feeling as if I was flying with wings into the blue sky. Just? There were only a few flowers, so few in number that they looked lonely. But instead of being sad, they seemed to be enjoying themselves with such ease that I was once again shocked by them. I was captivated by them and completely convinced. Yes, isn't it so much better than those complacent flowers?
A fresh breeze blew across the earth, filling it with life. Those flowers are still smiling at the rose: "Look, no friends, sorry to be here!" Xiaofeng immediately said, "Don't say that, don't you see? It's enjoying the solitude of being alone." Those flowers were too embarrassed to say any more and looked down and started thinking about their lives. Ross was red in the face, it was the first time someone had been so nice to it.
Oh, the rose of my memories.
Whenever I step into the door of the school, into the "lively" class, I can always remember the familiar figure that can not be more familiar - Mr. Light.
Mr. Guang is in his forties, has a head of short black hair, the curved eyebrows below a pair of careful eyes and a kind face.
I remember once, after school, I packed my bag ready to go home. But collected suddenly found that my "Huanggang Little Scholar" disappeared. I was like an ant in the hot pot, turning over the bag, look at the cabinet, and then look at the floor, look at the ceiling ...... can still not see the shadow of the "Huanggang Xiaojiaoyuan". Students are going home one after another. I anxiously ran to Mr. Light's office. I saw Mr. Light correcting one homework after another page after page. Tired, shake your hands; thirsty, hold on a little longer. I finally gathered enough courage and swallowed and spat out a few words, "Report ......!" She looked up at me and asked softly, "What's wrong?" My heart instantly softened, I couldn't bear to burden the teacher again, so I said to her, "Is there anything I can do to help you?" "Alright then, go and get me a glass of water." I picked up the teacher's glass of water and ran out. Returning, I handed the teacher a cup of warm, lukewarm water. The teacher received the water, took a small sip, and when she saw that I hadn't left yet, she asked, "Is there something wrong with you?"
"My copy of Huanggang Little Scholar is missing." I was a little embarrassed.
"Did you put it in the cupboard?"
"I've looked for it, it's not there."
The teacher was silent for a moment and said to me, "You can use mine, but keep your things safe from now on."
"Really? Thank you teacher!"
This is a small thing, but I have always remembered! This figure of thinking for the students, this figure of forgiving students, will always, always move and cherish me!
The depths of memory of the first year essay 4
There is an acacia tree at the entrance to the district, some years, every time I see it is, a lot of flowers will bloom in the depths of memory.
The tree, the old home in front of the door had, and then the government to repair the road, it was called to cut, but the tree, give me deep memories.
The acacia tree was there before I was born, and since I can remember, I have been playing under the tree, and as soon as I survived the winter, I was looking forward to the spring. The spring breeze from the Loess Plateau, not only for people to bring warmth, but also for me to bring the acacia flowers. My uncle started to work at this time. He went to the field to split a few elm wood and started to make a long pole. The next two or three days, every day you can hear the sound of him sawing wood in the yard.
Once the long pole is done, the main event comes.
The acacia bush, that a white flower, like a girl, pavilion in the branch, exuding fragrance. Long pole probe into the bushes, aimed at those small flowers, violently twisted, a cluster of white elves will quietly fall I and my cousin under the tree to pick up, a pocket of acacia flowers gently, fragrant, very pleasing to the eye.
What I like even more is my mother's handiwork.
Picked up the acacia flowers handed to the mother, she washed those flowers, drained, mixed with flour, stirring evenly, so that each small flower is coated with flour, then put into the steamer, small fire fine braised. In a short while, will emit a light, light aroma, slightly sweet, fragrant but not rich, sweet but not greasy. After steaming, she and gently Road Polar Clear, have put some salt, in the pot of small fry, and then you can eat.
Put on the table, exclusively enjoy that a grain of, and a few flower outline, and people moving chopsticks, the table aroma filled, is the flavor of the field, the taste of the farm. Chewing in the mouth, sweet in the heart.
Autumn to winter childhood has gradually disappeared under the grinding up of time, but that acacia flowers will still bloom in the depths of memory, that is the fragrance of acacia flowers, is the aroma of mother's love.
The depths of memory of the first year essay 5
Years like running water, in my memory river, many things have gone up in smoke. But there is one thing, like a flower blooming in the depths of memory, today it quietly bloomed once again, evoking my beautiful memories ......
It was in a sunny noon, I went to the library to return the book, when I came to the library, glanced at the provisions posted on the wall, suddenly I was stagnant, body stiff, because I saw this A rule: Anyone who borrows a book for more than a month has to pay 1 yuan for a day over. I just remembered that I had already exceeded 5 days, what should I do? My hand subconsciously touched my pants pocket, hey! Half a dime is not, I was anxious, kept pacing back and forth, but just can not think of a way, I had to cheeky on.
I came to the return of books, slowly put the library card and books to the aunt, "drop" sound, the aunt looked at the computer screen, frowned tightly, said: "You overdue, pay five dollars." "That ...... Auntie ...... I ......" I stammered, "I don't have any money, right? Didn't bring any money, did you? I'll pay it back this time, but it won't happen again!" Before I could finish my words of gratitude, Auntie interrupted me. My heart suddenly cleared up, just like the weather on this day. "Thank you auntie!" I thanked in a loud voice. Auntie also looked at me with a gentle gaze, that look, y fixed in my mind, so that I will never forget.
Although this incident has been a long time ago, but it is like a flower in my memory, with the flow of time, this flower is more and more colorful, all the time is not emitting a fragrance, make me physically and mentally happy.
The depth of memory of the first year essay 6
Always think of you without thinking!
Teachers' Day, once again stepped into the campus that accompanied his six years, looking out, still evergreen creepers covered the walls of the teaching building. Standing in the center of the campus, looking around, always feel that everything is still stuck in the past. Perhaps tired, disoriented, as if back to the school sports meeting - you stood on the side of the playground, for the girls "400-meter relay race" cheering and shouting. You wear a duckbill hat, dressed in sky blue tracksuit, feet wearing white sneakers, one hand holding up a printed "six five class is the best! with one hand holding up a sign with "Class 6.5 is the best!" and with one hand clenching your fist, you waved it back and forth diagonally and kept shouting, "Class 6.5, go, go, go!" It was an exciting race. When the last student crossed the finish line and the students beside you cheered happily, "Our class has won! When the last student crossed the finish line, the students beside you happily cheered "Our class won, the first place!" When you dropped the publicity sign, you ran like an arrow, hugged us tightly, jumped, laughed, and let the happiness spread to every corner of the body.
Thoughts came back to the "Dream Theater". You are rehearsing the flag-raising ceremony of our class, adjusting the position of the students: the left to the right to move a little, the back row of the forward leaning! Your figure was on and off the stage. Although the air conditioning is on, but sweat still soaked your clothes, so strict, just to show the class the most beautiful style.
Unconsciously walked to the phoenix tree, full of fallen phoenix flowers, remembered a sentence in the book: "Phoenix flowers bloom in two seasons, a season of destiny, a season of destiny dispersal, destiny to destiny will eventually be dispersed, blossoms and failures of flowers always return to the dust."
Wandering around, the golden light shot to the phoenix tree, under the tree full of fiery red phoenix flowers, only to see two figures - a teacher pulling a little girl, toward the campus.
Deep in the memory of the first year essay 7After the rain cleared, I looked out the window, I remembered the figure again.
For a transfer student, to a strange environment heart is always both nervous and afraid, the class I found that you always look at me with an encouraging gaze, that gaze is like the warmth of the winter sun. I remember that afternoon you talked to me, kindly said to me: "Junxiang, come to the new class, do not be nervous, if there is anything to say to the teacher, the teacher will help you." After I heard that, I felt warm in my heart and very peaceful. Looking at the teacher's figure, I feel that this place is no longer strange. Thank you, dear Mr. Wang!
You can always see your busy figure in class, especially in the sports meeting. You a moment to inform the athletes on the field, a moment to organize the students to watch the game, a moment to encourage the students who are about to go on the field, while comforting the athletes who did not play well ...... In order to students can have a wonderful performance in the Games, you really try hard. I really can't help but want to grow up earlier so that I can share the burden with you!
In the blink of an eye Mr. Wang's company came to an end. On the day of graduation, Mr. Wang accompanied us to the school gate, and each of us was reluctant to step out of the school gate, reluctant to leave. Ms. Wang said to us, "Middle school, you study hard and come back to see me when you grow up." She still said to us in such an optimistic way. At the moment we stepped out of the school, I saw that she was turning away to wipe her tears, looking at the teacher's fading figure, my tears also flowed indisputably.
There will be many figures left in the heart on the road to future growth, but this one of Ms. Wang is undoubtedly the most engraved one.
Deep in the memory of the first year essay 8
For some reason, I often think of the encouragement written in the final comments, such as golden sunflowers, warm and firm, reminding me of the figure that gave me care and warmth - Ms. Wu.
She, like a bright light, guided me forward when I was lost. I still remember that time, because the day before the low fever, resulting in the language test can not be carried out, in my anxious feet jumping ` time, Ms. Wu said to me: "You first go to my office to review, later in my office test, it's okay." Hearing her gentle words, my anxious heart slowly relaxed and came to the office to quietly review. When I encountered a question I couldn't do, I remembered what she said to me before the test: "Don't be nervous, think carefully and you will always get the right answer." After a while, I came up with the right answer. After the test, she smiled at me, and the nervousness of the test disappeared.
She gave me motherly care in my difficult time. I still remember that after the military training return, I got seasick, she was next to me constantly care about me, comfort me. Anxiously and repeatedly asked: "Comfortable? Is it still hard?" These seemingly ordinary words made me feel extremely warm. After getting off the bus, she let me sit on the grass and fed me water until my father came to pick me up. I guess that's what caring does. I think this is what caring is all about.
Once I was in the apricot rain, I remembered my teacher's kindness for the rest of my life. A piece of chalk two sleeves clean, three-foot podium four seasons rain and shine, peach and plum do not say, the next from the groove. In this season of gardenia blossoms, I remembered the figure in my memory ......
Deep Memory First Year Essay 9I remember it was also a summer afternoon when she moved away! She ran over to me crying. "We're moving away and I can't leave you ......" she said, sobbing and trying not to cry because she was afraid I would be upset.
She was my childhood playmate and my confidant. From childhood, we ate together, played together, had fun together, cried together, and cried together.
I am her "shadow", she is my "clone", we can always guess each other's thoughts. Once, I went to play with her, she was very depressed, I suddenly realized that her doll was missing, I said; "Xiao Wei, are you looking for "Wei Chun" (the name of her doll is a composite of our names, mine is called "Chun Wei").
She cried, "Yesterday it was gone!" "Don't cry, let's go look for it together!" I comforted her. We searched all the places we had played and couldn't find it. "There's one place we haven't found yet." "'Dream Home'!" "Go!" We rushed over, and sure enough, "Wei Chun" was in there, and she smiled happily.
In this way, we played happily for three springs. This day, she cried to me and said: "I'm going to move away, maybe we ......" she did not finish I cried, she held back not to cry, but we all know in our hearts, without each other we can not live!
When the sun went down, she was forcibly taken away from me. She looked at me reluctantly, and I looked at her motionless. We bawled the moment her parents took her to the car, even though we couldn't get her back. Afterward I regretted why I hadn't even left a picture of her. Later when I was organizing my things, I turned over a notebook she had given me. I caressed it as our story replayed in my mind. As I opened it, the memory drawer was suddenly opened again. When I opened the second page, it contained her picture and I cried again.
This friendship will always remain in my memory, as if it were yesterday ......
Memory depths of the first year of the essay 10He, bone-thin as a wood, bald head with a big brain, thin neck, back has a little hunchback; all year round Zhongshan suit, a pair of Beijing old cloth shoes, occasionally wear a small western hat, walking always have a kind of He is the one who initiated me to calligraphy. He is my calligraphy teacher - mother teacher.
I remember just holding the brush to write so nervous, like the Monkey King with chopsticks to eat noodles, no way to start. I remember being so nervous about writing with a brush, like the Monkey King eating noodles with chopsticks, that I couldn't begin to write. While holding my right hand, she said in a low voice, "Lift your elbow up." She led my right hand to draw and write horizontally. It was as if time had stopped, and the teacher's calmness and composure infected me, and the shadow of tension in my heart suddenly dissipated. The teacher's calmness infected me, and the shadow of nervousness in my heart suddenly disappeared.
Ms. mother is not only good at calligraphy and painting, but also good at guqin, carving, and swordplay. Sometimes the break between classes, the mother teacher will give us a martial arts show or mouth organ solo, we are a group of small powder fan every time to see the stunned, cheering and clapping. Ms. Mother also loves to chat with us, from astronomy and geography to social politics and history, regardless of whether we understand it or not. The first thing you need to do is to get a good understanding of what is going on in the world and what is going on in the world.
The mother teacher is kind and funny humor and a bit of a child heart, the drawer of the book garden is stuffed with a variety of snacks, it is said that his disciples bought to the mother teacher to eat. But he kept it to eat with the kids when they were on break. Often because we do not understand the snacks and was made fun of, the mother teacher will touch his shiny bald head "huh" laugh, lovely.
This is my calligraphy teacher, a multi-talented, patriotic and kind, serious and rigorous, bring their own ink.
Deep Memory First Year Essay 11The flowers that bloomed in the depths of my memory, it is fresh and beautiful as if that thick arm, so that I feel safe, as if that momentary caress, so that I feel affectionate warmth.
In my deep memory, the waves that could not be calmed for a long time rushed through my heart, the flower that bloomed brilliantly, just like that hibiscus-like smile. She is my grandmother, amiable smile, forehead full of the marks of life - a "train track", and myopia and presbyopia eyes make her unable to see everything clearly.
I looked at the old diary, I could not help but read it, recalling the scene. Exam results were announced, the teacher handed out stacks of math papers, I was happy to take the paper, and soon put down the paper sadly, because the math failed, only 55 points, 55 points this number really let me whimper. I was carrying my usual bag but it seemed heavier than before, but in reality it was just one more math paper that I failed.
Back home, I quickly ran into my room and shut the door with a bang. Grandma said: "The test is not afraid, as long as the next effort on the line, this time I really was the eyes of the old flower see through, really worthy of my grandmother."
Soon, the test results and announced, math 95.5 points, this is my first time to test so high, the teacher for my progress also specially issued certificates. This exam will be successful because my grandmother gave me that kind encouragement. And I used the correction fluid to change the certificate, and awarded it to Grandma - the most energetic consolation prize.
Grandma's old and nearsighted eyes are no longer old flowers but the brightest and most fragrant flowers in my heart, sowing, sprouting, growing, and bearing fruit