Mom's hands In the world of hands, there are hard-working hands, lazy hands, rich hands, dexterous hands, however, I write about a pair of hard-working hands of my mom.
Her hands are not very big, long-term labor makes the callus skin climbed on the fingers, so that the back of the hand grew a layer of light black skin. When the rooster crows three times, mom's hands are already at work: busy making breakfast.
Near noon, her hands were at work again: busy making lunch.
In the afternoon, her hands were at work again: busy making dinner.
At night, when the moon is high in the sky, mom's hands are at work again: busy washing clothes. In short, mom's hands work all the time.
Mom's hands are both hard-working and full of motherly love. I remember a cold winter afternoon, the weather is relatively cold.
I was doing my homework and my mom was doing needlework. It was late at night, the weather became colder, my hands were trembling, and I didn't dare to write for fear of doing my homework badly.
At this time, my mother came to my side, concerned about me, said, "Cold?" I gently sandwiched my hand between her two hands. At once, I felt incredibly warm.
With her encouragement, I finally finished my homework seriously. I remember another mid-winter morning, the weather was very cold.
In order to protect ourselves from the cold, my friends and I went to the creek to skate. I was not careful and my feet fell into a lime pit.
I managed to get my feet out, but my boots were full of lime. "I can't wear them anymore", I decided to take them off and asked my mom to wash them, but then I thought: she will criticize me.
In the end, I came up with the best of both worlds. I hid my boots in the doorway and waited for the weather to warm up a bit before I washed them. The next day, when it was a little warmer, I went to wash my leather boots.
But there was no sign of the boots in the doorway. I was so anxious that I almost cried, but after a while, I calmed down and went to look elsewhere.
Just as I found the back door, I heard the familiar "swish, swish, swish" sound. Isn't that the sound of mom's hands at work? I followed the sound, and on the patio, I found my mom, washing my boots.
Her hands were red from the cold and cracked. Though it was cold, a few beads of crystal sweat still fell from my mom's cheeks. I went to her side and grabbed the brush for the boots, while saying, "I'll wash them, mom."
Mom said with concern: "Zhenzhen, I'll wash." I couldn't say yes, but she had already taken the boots and the brush.
In the end, it was mom who washed it. After she washed them, she meticulously baked the boots, and when I put them back on, my eyes were blurred with tears.
Ah! I want to praise, praise mother's hands, and more praise you - mother.
2. Write mother's essay 600 words descriptive details such as mom's hand similar thank youMom, I want to say to you When I was sick, who was by my side to guard me, is my mother; when I was in trouble, who was by my side to support me, is also a mother; when I was sad and upset, and who was by my side to comfort me, are mother.
Every time, it is my mom who is by my side to give me endless love. I really want to say to my dear mom, "Thank you, my dear mother.
When I was a child, I was a very naughty child, and gave my mother a lot of trouble, and she always held all the trouble for me without words. Even that one time, she didn't complain at all.
That day, I climbed up to the people just built the shed, just so that buy food back to the mother met, saw a small me climbed to so high (about two tables stacked up), they hurriedly shouted me down. I waved my hand to my mom to show that I'm not fine, but then I got into trouble with an unsteady center of gravity, and my whole body "flew" down.
Before I passed out, I saw my mom holding me in tears, and then I lost consciousness. In the haze, I vaguely heard my mom's voice, and she was telling me to wake up! So I opened my eyes and realized that I was already in a hospital room, "Ouch! Ouch!" I subconsciously screamed out, obviously, my forehead was stitched a few stitches.
Huh? Mom was asleep in her chair. I was about to lean over to check when mom opened her eyes.
I was shocked, my mom's original bright eyes were filled with blood, and her black hair actually added a lot of white color, and the whole person appeared to be a circle of thinness, "Well! Finally awake, hungry?" Until mom's concerned voice from the ear, shame, guilt of the psychological prompted my nose can not help but a sour, that tears are like a broken line of beads in general, keep falling down. Seeing me like this, my mom again thought that something was wrong with me, and asked worriedly, "What's wrong? Is it somewhere uncomfortable?" I shook my head, hugged my mom and sobbed, "Mom, I'm fine, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" At that time, mom did not say anything, just smiled, seems to contain what rhyme.
Mom ah! As a daughter of me, I can not do anything for you now, can only y say to you: "Thank you, my good mother.
3. Write a detailed description of the composition on the topic of mom's handsMom's hands
In the world of hands, there are hard-working hands, lazy hands, rich hands, dexterous hands, however, I write about a pair of mom's hard-working hands. Her hands are not very big, long-term labor so that the callus skin climbed on the fingers, so that the back of the hand grew a layer of light black skin.
When the chicken crowed three times, mom's hands have begun to work: busy doing breakfast. Near noon, her hands were at work again: busy making lunch. In the afternoon, her hands are at work again: busy making dinner. At night, when the moon is high in the sky, mom's hands are at work again: busy washing clothes. In short, mom's hands work all the time.
Mom's hands are both hard-working hands and hands full of motherly love. I remember a cold winter afternoon, the weather is relatively cold. I was doing my homework and my mom was doing needlework.
It was late at night, the weather became colder, my hands were trembling, and I didn't dare to write, for fear of doing my homework badly. At this time, my mom came up to me and said to me with concern, "Cold?" I gently sandwiched my hand between her two hands. At once, I felt incredibly warm. Under her encouragement, I finally finished my homework seriously.
I remember another mid-winter morning, the weather was very cold. In order to protect ourselves from the cold, my partners and I went to the creek to skate. I was not careful and my feet fell into a lime pit. It was hard for me to raise my feet, but the leather boots were already stuffed with lime. "I can't wear them anymore", I took off the boots decisively and was going to ask my mother to wash them for me, but then I thought: my mother would criticize me. Finally, I came up with the best of both worlds. I hid the boots in the doorway and waited for the weather to warm up a bit before I washed them. The next day, when the weather was a little warmer, I went to wash my boots. But there was no sign of the boots in the doorway. I was so anxious that I almost cried. After a while, I calmed down and went to look elsewhere. Just as I found the back door, I heard the familiar "swish, swish, swish" sound. Wasn't that the sound of my mom's hands at work? I followed the sound and on the patio I found my mom, washing my boots. Her hands were red from the cold and cracked. Although it was cold, a few beads of crystal sweat still fell from my mom's cheeks. I went to her side and grabbed the brush that was used to brush the boots, saying, "Mom, I'll do it." Mom said with concern, "Zhenzhen, I'll wash it." I refused, but she had already taken the boots and the brush. In the end, it was mom who washed it. After she washed, and meticulously baked boots, when I put on the boots again, my eyes have been blurred by tears.
Ah! I want to praise, praise mother's hands, and more praise you - mother.
4. write mother's essay 600 words descriptive details such as mom's hand similar thank youMom, I want to say to you When I was sick, who was by my side to guard me, it was my mother; when I was in trouble, who was by my side to support me, it was also my mother; when I was sad and upset, who was by my side to comfort me, it was all my mother. Every time, it is my mom who gives me endless love by my side. I really want to say to my dear mom: "Thank you, my dear mom. When I was young, I was a very naughty child, and gave my mom a lot of trouble, and she always held all the trouble for me without words. Even that one time, she did not have the slightest complaint. That day, I climbed up to the people just built the shed, just so that the groceries back to the mother ran into, saw the little I climbed so high (about two tables stacked up), then hurriedly shouted me down. I waved my hand to my mom to show that I was fine, but then I got into trouble with my center of gravity, and my whole body "flew" down. Before I passed out, I saw my mom hugging me with tears in her eyes, and then I lost consciousness. In the haze, I vaguely heard my mom's voice, she was telling me to wake up! So I opened my eyes and realized that I was already in a hospital room, "Ouch! Ouch!" I subconsciously screamed out, obviously, my forehead was stitched a few stitches.
Huh? Mom was asleep in her chair. I was about to lean over to take a look when mom opened her eyes. Scared me a big jump, mom's original bright eyes are covered with blood, black shiny hair actually added a lot of white color, the whole person appears to be a circle of thin, "Well! Finally awake, hungry?" Until mom's concerned voice from the ear, shame, guilt of the psychological prompted my nose can not help but a sour, that tears are like a broken line of beads in general, keep falling down. Seeing me like this, my mom again thought that something was wrong with me, and asked worriedly, "What's wrong? Is it somewhere uncomfortable?" I shook my head, hugged my mom and sobbed, "Mom, I'm fine, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" At that time, mom did not say anything, just smiled, seems to contain what rhyme.
Mom ah! As a daughter of me, I can not do anything for you now, can only y say to you: "Thank you, my good mother.
5. Detailed description of the mother's hand1. The mother's hand is a witness to the vicissitudes of time, or old or rough, but the eternal warmth of the hands is for me, her favorite person.
The cocoon is uneven, gently touched by the burning is the continuation of the mother's love. 2, the mother guarded a dim oil lamp, repeating the same action, back and forth . The love will be injected into the dense stitch, mending the footprints of the child's growth. This extremely simple action, tired mother's eyes, gray mother's temples, wasted mother's spine. But the dim light puts the mother's posture of holding the needle to infinity, casting it on the wall, straight into the bottom of the heart. So, this is the price of our growth! No matter when, don't forget the poem: the thread in the hands of a loving mother, the clothes on the body of a wandering son.
Example: There is a pair of hands in the eyes of others is no more than ordinary, and even some inconspicuous. But in my eyes, it is a pair of hands full of warmth and wisdom.
This is my mother's hands, although not very special hands, but to help me in the road of life every step. I just moved home, and there is an extra road in front of my door.
Although the school was not far away, I was too young, and my mother was always worried. So my mother would pick me up and drop me off every day when I went to and from school.
When I was in front of the road, my mother took me by the hand, signaling me to stop first. Only when the light turned green did my mother pull me carefully across the street.
Although the light was green, there were many turning cars on both sides of the road speeding past us. My mother held my hand for a moment, signaling me to stop and wait for the right-turning traffic to subside before crossing.
Sometimes I squeeze my hand a little bit, signaling me to go fast. In this stop and go, I crossed the street easily.
In my mother's warm hands, I walked to school again and again. One day, I forgot my pencil case.
When I was alone on the road, I was suddenly very nervous, without my mother to take me in order and calm, that time I think of the rampage is still palpitating. In the road of life, I often also face a road, and when I hesitate in the roadside, whenever I am disillusioned, whenever I am lost, my mother's hand as if once again appeared to take me across the road in an orderly manner, to encourage me to continue to move forward.
Mother's hand, like a ray of sunshine when I care, and sometimes like a signpost, teaching me to navigate the road in life. The mother's hand is wisdom, it not only teaches me to move forward on the road of life, but also in the face of my learning difficulties, for me to answer one after another doubt.
When I was in third grade, there was always some knowledge that I couldn't understand, and when I was writing, I was always writing one sentence after another, and I didn't have a smooth sentence or a complete structure. I was getting more and more headaches from writing, and then I told my mother about the confusion in my mind.
My mother didn't say a word, she took a pen and wrote the title of my essay, and then drew a tree with a branch and a leaf on it. Then my mother told me: "Writing an essay is like a tree, the theme is its root, and the content you want to write is like its branches.
It must be based on the root, just as the branches grow on the tree, and the narrative should be tightly focused on the center." I listened to a sense of enlightenment, watching my mother's hand holding the pen in my composition on the circle, I was enlightened.
Since then, I have not been able to write an essay with so much effort. My mother's hands taught me how to learn knowledge to understand knowledge, to use knowledge, and to make some complicated things simple and clear.
Mother's hands are wise. It is always in my encounter difficulties for me to solve the knot in my heart.
Mother's hands, with its warmth, wisdom to help me in life, learning to take a steady pace forward. This pair of ordinary hands guided me forward and corrected my mistakes.
Perhaps one day, this pair of tender hands of mine will grow up to be as warm and strong as the mother's hands. By that time, my mother may be gray in the temples and hobbling.
The hands may be wrinkled from a lifetime of labor. I'm going to use my hands to take care of my mother and other people, just like my mother took care of me.
6. Mom's Hands Essay 600 WordsIn the world of hands, there are hard-working hands, lazy hands, rich hands, dexterous hands, however, I write about a pair of hard-working hands of my mom. Her hands are not very big, long-term labor so that the callus skin climbed on the fingers, so that the back of the hand grew a layer of light black skin.
In the world of hands, there are hard-working hands, lazy hands, rich hands, dexterous hands, however, I wrote a pair of mom's hard-working hands. Her hands are not very big, long-term labor so that the callus skin climbed on the fingers, so that the back of the hand grew a layer of light black skin.
When the chicken crowed three times, mom's hands have begun to work: busy doing breakfast. Near noon, her hands were at work again: busy making lunch. In the afternoon, her hands are at work again: busy making dinner. At night, when the moon is high in the sky, mom's hands are at work again: busy washing clothes. In short, mom's hands work all the time.
Mom's hands are both hard-working hands and hands full of motherly love. I remember a cold winter afternoon, the weather is relatively cold. I was doing my homework and my mom was doing needlework.
It was late at night, the weather became colder, my hands were trembling, and I didn't dare to write, for fear of doing my homework badly. At this time, my mom came up to me and said to me with concern, "Cold?" I gently sandwiched my hand between her two hands. At once, I felt incredibly warm. Under her encouragement, I finally finished my homework seriously.
I remember another mid-winter morning, the weather was very cold. In order to protect ourselves from the cold, my partners and I went to the creek to skate. I was not careful and my feet fell into a lime pit. It was hard for me to raise my feet, but the leather boots were already stuffed with lime. "I can't wear them anymore", I took off the boots decisively and was going to ask my mother to wash them for me, but then I thought: my mother would criticize me. Finally, I came up with the best of both worlds. I hid the boots in the doorway and waited for the weather to warm up a bit before I washed them. The next day, when the weather was a little warmer, I went to wash my boots. But there was no sign of the boots in the doorway. I was so anxious that I almost cried, but after a while, I calmed down and went to look elsewhere. Just as I found the back door, I heard the familiar "swish, swish, swish" sound. Wasn't that the sound of my mom's hands at work? I followed the sound and on the patio I found my mom, washing my boots. Her hands were red from the cold and cracked. Although it was cold, a few beads of crystal sweat still fell from my mom's cheeks. I went to her side and grabbed the brush that was used to brush the boots, saying, "Mom, I'll do it." Mom said with concern, "Zhenzhen, I'll wash it." I refused, but she had already taken the boots and the brush. In the end, it was mom who washed it. After she washed, and meticulously baked boots, when I put on the boots again, my eyes have been blurred by tears.
Ah! I want to praise, praise mom's hands, and more praise you - mom.
7. The title of the moment, I took my mother's hand required to write a narrative essay about 600 words to have detailsHolding your hand, over the bridge, listen to the sound of gurgling water, flowing hope; holding your hand, touring the world outside the paradise, sense, beams of sunshine, cloak of warmth; holding your hand, strolling through the Peach Grove Plum Garden, enjoy, flowers, beautiful flowers! The first thing you need to do is to hold your hand and everything will be very beautiful, very beautiful.
Here, I also want to recount a plain story for you - "wow ......", a crisp cry broke through the lonesome night, the moon laughed, enjoy waving a cool Halo, let it flow all over the mercury. The stars laughed, dutifully flashing bright light, let it blinking big eyes, happy ...... night, no longer lonely, jumping with the spiritual pulse.
In the maternity ward, a newborn baby wailing and crying, a tearful mother smiled faintly, she was in pain and happy! Xuan, already eight months old, in her mother's arms, she murmured softly and cried loudly, her big eyes staring straight at the woman in front of her who kept smiling at her, she understood that this was her dear mother. Her little hand waved, was held by her mother in the heart of the hand full of motherly love, eight months she will not think, just feel that hands so warm, so warm ...... Petite sun, scorching the earth, this summer, hot! On the boulevard, a smiling mother, is holding her just 2-year-old daughter, walking slowly, toddler, Xuan feel so tired, staring curiously at his mother's face, pouting high, frowning tight, and then babbling and yelling, which is her resistance to the usual tricks.
Mom looked at her with a smile and said patiently, "Xuan is good! Just a little further, Xuan, the most courageous, hold on a little longer, oh! Xuan looked at the beautiful mother, smiled faintly, the heat in the palm of the hand has sublimated into water, holding her mother's warm hand, she felt very safe, holding hands, she insisted, she did not feel, a thing called perseverance, through the mother's hand, has been instilled in her heart ...... September 1, the start of school! Xuan, already seven years old, to the age of school. Today is the first day of school, mom dressed up for Xuan early, she really beautiful! Pink bow, pink and blue dress, she is very happy! As usual, when she went out, her mom held her hand again, and she felt so used to it, so natural, and her mom's hand was soft and smooth and warm.
Along the way, holding her mother's hand, she laughed, jumped, and was not afraid to fall, she believed that her mother's hand will bring her safety, courage! Snowflakes fluttering, heh! This year's winter actually snowed. Outside the window a white, silver, so beautiful! Xuan is sixteen years old this year, is a girl who loves to fantasize.
She loves her mother, looking at her mother's gray temples, she often heartbreaking tears, she has not forgotten the childhood toddler, babbling when the happiness. Thinking of this, she smiled happily, recalling her mom holding her hand, learning to walk, welcome the beginning of the school year, she a burst of inexplicable emotion.
For so many years, she has always remembered the warmth of her mother's hands! At this time, a heartwarming idea in her mind to form, with a hat, scarf, gloves, she walked to her mother's room, pleasantly said to her mother: Mom, let's go to the snowball fight, said, she took her mother's hand ...... Tears, dripping, but also can not break the warmth of this serenity... ... Holding hands is one of the most *** touching! The most important thing to remember is that you have to be able to get the best out of your life, and you have to be able to get the best out of your life.
8. mother's hand 800 words of high school composition to have a detailed descriptionThere is a pair of hands in the eyes of others is no more than ordinary, and even a little inconspicuous. But in my eyes, it is a pair of hands full of warmth and wisdom. This is my mother's hands, although not very special hands, but to help me in the road of life every step.
I just moved home and there is a road in front of my door. Although the school is not far away, but I am too young, my mother is always relieved. So every day when I go to school, after school, my mother will pick up, send me. When I was in front of the road, my mother
took my hand and signaled me to stop first. Only when the light turned green did my mother pull me carefully across the street. Although the light was green, there were still many turning cars speeding past us on both sides of the road. I'm not sure how much I'm going to be able to do this, but I'm sure I'm going to be able to do it again. In this stop and go, I easily crossed the street. In my mother's warm hands I
Walked on the road to school again and again.
One day, I forgot my pencil case. When I was alone on the busy road, I was suddenly very nervous, without my mother to bring me the order and calm, that time I still think of the crossroads still have a heart palpitation.
On the road of life, I often face a road, and when I hesitate on the roadside, whenever I am disappointed, whenever I am confused, my mother's hand seems to appear again, take me through the horse in an orderly
Road, to encourage me to continue to move forward. Mother's hand, like a ray of sunshine when I care, and sometimes like a signpost, teaching me to navigate the road of life. The mother's hand is wisdom, it not only taught me in life
The road forward, more in the face of my learning difficulties, for me to answer one after another doubt.
When I was in the third grade, there was always some knowledge that I couldn't understand, and when I was writing, I was always writing one sentence after another, with no fluent phrases or complete structure. I was getting more and more headaches from writing, and then I told my mother about the confusion in my mind
This is the first time I've seen the world's most popular movie, and I've seen the world's most popular TV show. My mother didn't say a word, she took a pen and wrote the title of my essay, and then drew a tree with a branch and a leaf growing on it. Then my mother told me: "Writing an essay is like a
tree, the theme is its root, and the content you want to write is like its branches. It must be based on the root, just as the branches grow on the tree, and the narrative should be tightly focused on the center." I listened to a sense of enlightenment, looking at my mother's hand holding
pen in my essay on the circle and change, I was enlightened. Since then, I've never struggled to write an essay again.
Mother's hands, taught me how to learn knowledge to understand knowledge, use knowledge, and make some complex things become simple, clear. Mother's hands are wise. It is always in my encounter difficulties for me to solve the knot in my heart.
Mother's hands, with its warmth, wisdom to help me in life, learning with a steady pace forward. This pair of ordinary hands guided me forward and corrected my mistakes.
Perhaps one day, this pair of tender hands of mine will grow up to be as warm and strong as the mother's hands. By that time, my mother may have been gray at the temples, hobbling. Those hands may be wrinkled from a lifetime of labor. By that day I will use my hands, like my mother to care for me, to care for, to warm the mother and other people.
9. Composition: Dad's/Mom's Hands, Shoulders, Back, HairMom's Hands My mother has a pair of skillful hands, which are not pretty and are covered with wrinkles, but I think my mother's hands are the warmest hands in the world.
That day, it was so cold that I didn't dare to put my head out of the quilt, and the sound of my mother's washing came from my ears. I couldn't sleep because of my mother's noise, so I got up, walked out of my room, and came to the corridor. What blew in front of me was the piercing northwesterly wind, and I saw my mother's reddish hands dipped in the water. I saw a thick layer of ice in a bucket on the corridor.
I hurriedly hid in my room to read a book. Not long after, the sound of pots and pans came from the kitchen, and I vaguely saw my mom's figure shifting.
Only more than ten minutes, I smelled the aroma of food, my mother walked into my room, saw that I had already got up, smiled, and said to me: "I would have liked to let you sleep a little more, do not come to call you, perhaps now will you wake up, right? Then hurry up and eat and go to school." "Mom, it's Sunday."
I reminded. "Ugh, it's so unhelpful that you can't even figure out the day."
I ate my mom's breakfast and watched her rubbing her frozen hands on the sidelines, always feeling bad. Mom's hands are very capable, not only will cook a good meal, can wash the clothes as if they were new, but also sewing clothes.
Sometimes, a piece of clothing will accidentally be hooked, but this is not difficult to defeat the mother, after her left a needle, right a line, will be new; she will also knit sweaters, a few woolen balls in the mother that pair of hands of knitting, will become a very beautiful clothing. I have a sweater, above the braided with my name "Mary" pinyin, that is my mother gave me to knit out, I like this sweater, often wearing it, I feel particularly warm.
My mother used her hands to raise me to adulthood, taught me to be a man of reason, I will take over my mother's hands, to get better grades, to build a better life to return to her.