Good times junior narrative essay essay 800 words 5
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Good time junior narrative essay essay 800 words 1The time old man is always so merciless, the good times are fleeting, like falling leaves settled in the heart, but a breeze swept through, evoking beautiful memories. When the variegated wings into the embrace of the blue sky, that is the best time for butterflies; when the slow pace of climbing to the top of the trees, that is the best time for snails; when the shy petals to reveal the colorful face, that is the best time for the iron tree. But for me, an ordinary experience is the best.
I remember in a winter, an aunt invited us to the village to barbecue. Just near the outskirts, the fresh air couldn't wait to fill my nostrils and moisturize my lungs. Along the way, both sides are tall and sturdy trees, such as well-trained green warriors standing on both sides, so that I have as the chairman of the parade of the realm. The wind in the suburbs was cool and refreshing, blowing my worries to the skies, and the flowers under the trees seemed to be awakened by the wind, dancing joyfully at the invitation of the breeze, adding a strange natural landscape to nature! Before long, we arrived at our destination. When we walked into the small yard, we saw a barbecue grill standing in the center of the small yard, and a large number of people gathered around the barbecue. When I walked over, an enthusiastic aunty gave me a skewer and went back to grilling. As I ate, I watched them gawk. I saw my auntie skillfully put the meat on the rack, and then brush on the seasoning and oil, the oil dripped on the coal, making a "ZiZi" sound. By the time I finished eating, my mom had already joined the "barbecue" family, so I followed her example. I looked at the barbecue materials, there are squid, lobster, chicken wings ... they are all crowded together in a pot, as if yelling: "choose me, choose me, I'm more delicious!" I chose a skewer of squid and promptly placed it on the grill. The squid grew soft and small as the coals burned, and then with my mom's help, a skewer of squid was ready. By the time the sky was covered by a curtain, we were done, and a whole bunch of people were sitting around, eating kebabs, drinking Sprite, and chatting about the future... and just as I was gorging myself, I realized that there were basically only a few kids eating. I grabbed two kebabs for my parents in passing, only to have them both push back and tell me to eat more. At that moment, I felt something in my heart: my parents had just been working non-stop in the sweltering heat of the grill, but now they were giving us what they had worked so hard to make to eat, and what a great sentiment that was! Inadvertently, I understand the love of parents for us.
The good times, is short, fleeting, but left us the best memories; the good times, is eternal, it is always printed in our hearts. Unforgettable, the best time!
Good times junior narrative essay essay 800 words2
As a child, the cultural life of the countryside is relatively poor, there is no electricity, not to mention the lack of television. Watching theater is the main way of entertainment in the countryside, the main cultural life of rural people.
My hometown is in Northwest Hubei, adjacent to Henan Province, the hometown of Yu opera. There is a special Yu opera troupe in the county, which performs in various places every year. Every year in the first month of the lunar calendar and in the spare time, the Yu opera troupe will come as scheduled, as if it is an unchanging agreement with the hometown people, men, women and children are dressed up as to participate in a grand "banquet" like to listen to the opera. The stage was made of simple wood. The children excitedly called out to their peers as the play began, while the adults anxiously asked those in the know what was going to be performed.
Under the warmth of the first month's sunshine, the stage was decked out in red and green, and the actors and actresses appeared on stage, with their beautiful and familiar voices echoing in the joyful atmosphere. Or the classic "Mu Guiying hangs up the marshalship", or the "small hamster", or those who come from far away to deliver the joy of the messenger. Day and night rehearsals, day and night look forward to, today into the reality of the joy, into the hearts of the townspeople a touch of color, a warmth.
Offstage is a sea of joy, folks or happy to look back; or whispered in admiration; or guessed the development of the plot. Or children forget to jump; or neighboring sister-in-law in praise of the beauty of the costume hue; or face full of life spots of the old lady to the sick old man put on the coat ......
Undressing after the actors have a different kind of beauty. Every day at dusk is the actor's rest time, strolling in the countryside on the road men and women actors into the countryside in the evening a bright landscape. They send not only theater, singing and acting, but also beautiful memories. Groups of small children follow them from afar, and what the children follow is not only beautiful people and beautiful clothes, but also the hope for beauty. With the hope of beauty, the children's childhood is full of happiness and joy.
The young actors and actresses walked through the path and walked to the river. Perhaps they have been mesmerized by the mountains, the water, the clouds, the scenario, love. Because they know that in addition to the real life, there is a "theater life", there is a different role. Only at this moment, they can y feel the self, feel the reality.
In just a few days, the townspeople had a "theater addiction", and they felt immensely gratified. This kind of comfort encourages folks to live with hope and reminisce with hope.
This may be the warmest moment of the year for the folks, and this may be the best memory of the children's lives.
Good Times Junior Narrative Essay Essay 800 Words 3
Ximu Rong said, "Life is a rushing river, and we are all the one who crosses it." On the left bank of the river is remembering, on the right bank of the river is forgetting. We ride their own unique boat in which to shuttle, only to know - to forget the forgotten, bearing in mind that the remembering, forget the forgotten, bearing in mind that those clearly visible images but permanent presence in the mind, those most beautiful time, through the time wash, but also difficult to forget,
We walk in the fading away, gradually The most important thing to remember is that the most beautiful time in the memory, the most beautiful time in the memory. The most beautiful time in memory, fixed in that small mountain village, that small yard, that most beautiful partner, grandmother, that most dazzling childhood.
Tall cottonwood tree, the most beautiful mountain village
We always sit under the cottonwood tree, see the breeze, the water ripples, touching my feelings. We would surround that cottonwood tree, holding hands, in a circle, playing our favorite game. Under the cottonwood tree was our paradise, where our happy smiles overflowed, sprinting with our most innocent fantasies. Every night, Grandma would always hold me, I snuggled in her arms, sucking her flavor, in her arms gradually fall asleep, spend my day. Under the tall cottonwood tree, hosting my joys and sorrows, hosting my grandmother, the deepest spring of the small mountain village, that belongs to my most innocent and pure fantasy time.
Summer brook, the most joyful paradise
Blooming in the roadside violets, for us to send a wisp of summer fragrance. At the edge of the stream, everywhere reflecting our smiling faces. When I think of the days when I was catching fish with them, I am touched from the bottom of my heart. Whenever we caught a fish, our cheers were heard throughout the village. That sound and the birds chirping, echoing throughout the valley, play tired, we will sit down and tell our fantasies together ...... beside the creek, is that we are stealing music paradise; in the valley, our cheers echoed for a long time, this is our children's nature, is with eternity are indelible.
The door of the hut, the most loving grandmother that is the most kind of small soft, that is the most did not picture, that is the greatest love, whenever I play crazy day back home, to meet me is the most kind of grandmother. I would tell my grandmother about the day's experience and she would listen attentively. Sometimes laughter will echo in the hut, my grandmother and I hugged together, watching the most beautiful sunset ...... Later, my parents took me home, the most beautiful time, the most beautiful childhood, long stay in the past.
Walking on the road of life, we smile at the window blossoms and leaves withered and fell, quietly watching the sky outside the clouds, the wind stops and the wind rises, the good times in the clouds reflected the most clear shadow, permanently imprinted in the mind.
Good times junior narrative essay 800 words4
Carrying the deep feelings, breaking into the canyon of the years. A fountain called memory springs a steady stream of outward eruption, splashing water beads cheerfully scattered around, the sunshine dazzle, refracted colorful images, refracted this most beautiful time.
Darkness fell quietly. Unstintingly dipped in ink with a huge pen in the original blue sky painting, and carefully in the diaphanous background inlaid with a little star. Finished with the task at hand, tiredness set in, and stepping out of the bedroom, my mom, already poised and glowing, said, "Go out for a walk." "But I'm tired and want to sleep." I said. "Go go go, the air is nice outside." Mom couldn't wait. I had to follow my mom out of the house.
The air smelled of fresh grass, and the wind, which was still restless during the day, was now so gentle and lazy. Silently follow the mother behind, head down to let the road forward infinite extension, walking in front of the mother collected feet, eyes flashing excitement, said: "Let's go, go to a good place."
In the eyes is the ever-changing scenery. Infected by mom's mood, the listless me also began to look forward to. Came to the mountain in front of a forest, the scene in front of me like a black hole swallowed me. It was fireflies. The light green fireflies were swirling out of the dark green trees. One firefly seemed like a star scattered in the sky, free from its bondage. They cheered and danced like a bonfire ball, sometimes together, sometimes scattered all over the place. Mom looked at me with a smile and said, "It's beautiful, isn't it? When I was little, there were fireflies in the field in front of our house, and we caught them in a bag. It was so pretty when it flickered. But when morning came, they put out their lights and fell asleep." I nodded. Mom continued, "Learning is like a firefly, when a good night comes, you have to light your lamp and let it shine. You are now in the fourth year of junior high school, just like a beautiful night comes, you also need to light your own lamp, light up their own way, cherish every bit of it, and try to let it send out the most brilliant luster." Mom's words were like a gust of wind that cut through the heart. To be like a firefly ah, the descent of the night is the beginning of the concert. Already in the fourth year of junior high school, I also want to play a bombastic sonata. Even if the curtain call has already been made, but also to let the excitement long stay in the heart.
The moon sprinkled in front of the window, the stars in the air is like a fixed firefly, tirelessly shining, seems to be before the dawn, with all their strength, waving their own light.
The bits and pieces are interwoven into the most beautiful time, a stroke by stroke a picture of the most beautiful scroll. I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to get the most out of it, but I'm going to have to take the most out of it, and I'm going to have to seal it in the canyon of the years. Mom, how can I forget that night, that most beautiful time.
Good times junior narrative essay essay 800 words 5
A pleasant childhood is the best time of our lives, childhood, hiding a lot of interesting things, happy things, the only thing that is not there is the trouble. It hides an interesting and the most impressive thing to me, that is - rat hunting.
When I was a child, my classmates said to come to my house to play I was happy to jump three feet high, I thought: "Tomorrow we must play very happy!"
In the morning, I got up early. "Hey guys, come on, my parents are gone! Shhh, don't tell anyone!" "Okay, don't worry! I'm coming!" Knock knock! ...... Oops! My classmates are here! I was watching TV, not in a hurry to turn off the TV, like an arrow rushed to the door, I walked in the door of the moment there have been three naughty little mice behind me jumping around it! And called out, I can't believe I didn't hear them! Opened the door, a bold classmate reacted with a fierce cry: "There is a mouse behind you, careful not to move! I'll clean up these damn mice!" Rats seem to understand the human language, quickly hide, I was quick, picked up the stick to open the fight, did not hit! Then I kicked it with my foot, and one died. But the two mice a hiding in the pot, there is a run to the sink, a student cover the pot, there is a student to open the faucet. The two students said in unison: ''Haha you can't run away!''
One classmate was already tired and panting like a cow, and I went to look, "Wildly dizzy! Too many rats!"
This will go on and dirty the pot and stink the faucet, why don't we just put them away for the afternoon and then figure out how to clean up the darn rats! By noon, the sun hangs in the sky, as if the sun in this sky is the gods let my eyes light up, and came up with this great idea: "Fill a metal box with water, then put some salt, and then put two peanuts." "All set!" The three students said, and gave a "military salute" (the so-called military salute was a crooked salute that didn't look right). We watched quietly from the window. The two mice were out! They sniffed with their sniffing noses, and the peanut scent drew them in like ecstasy, and they jumped into the water, drowning and gasping for air, and then I thought to myself, "Haha, this method is working!" I smiled and said, "It's our turn to move!" One student got a mop, another got a stick, and I got scissors. "Look at my open mop!" "Look at my invincible god stick!" "Look at my Powerful Vajra Scissors!" The two mice could now be described as bloody and disfigured. My partners and I couldn't help but laugh at the sight.
A pleasant childhood can only be recalled. We are back on the heavy schoolbag, doing endless homework. But isn't studying also very happy? Let's remember this best time - childhood!