『One』The Story of Light
The Story of Light
The floating clouds in the sky, with the "swiftness of thunder and lightning," floating up to the clouds, trying to attract the attention of every flower, every grass with their dazzling light - the childhood yearning. I'm not sure what I'm talking about, but I'm not sure what I'm talking about.
When I was a kid, I always liked to hold a sweet lollipop in my left hand and pull up a corner of my skirt with my right hand, swaying and turning my body in the envy of my buddies and listening to the intoxicating sounds of my buddies. However, a little sister in the neighboring house proudly took out her beautiful bow from the closet, so that the awe-inspiring admiration clustered around her, and I heard myself crying. I could only go home alone and hug my doll, muttering my little mouth and murmuring in her ear, "Only you know me best, I am the most beautiful, the most beautiful princess ......" In this way, childhood is in the self-indulgence, self-congratulation in the dissipation of their own troubles.
The wind rolls in, the rain brushes the day passes, the sky is full of wind, clouds, thunder and lightning, the sun, moon and stars and the great sky is in my perseverance and persistence in the hand lines, spreading the macro - the dream of the teenage years.
Juvenile time ah, always appreciate the personality and mood of the self, in the hands of the clenched, written in sweat and tears of the blend. The tiger's mouth firmly buckle the paint off the pen, as if carrying the soul of the nation. Between the brow of the lofty and fighting spirit, flat increase a Pangu open heaven and earth of temperament. However, the struggle is always there! I desperately compete, want to surpass all the opponents, but I clearly feel their own fatigue, smelled the gasping for breath and lack of. I heard the counting and sneering of the bystanders, and I felt incredibly weak, as if I had lost in an instant my steady pace, my light body, my wonderful flow of blood, and was plunged into a deep, bottomless uncertainty. I searched for myself, but when I fell to the ground, I realized that I had to double my efforts and dedication. When the wings fall, re-fetching the scattered feathers, lifting up the brahmin face, smiling to meet the flowers and applause of success. So, I think, my teenage years in the self-excitement in the heart of the troubles.
Falling Ying colorful, gorgeous as the sky is full of poignant red, stamped with my Buddha flickering smile of enlightenment, looking for a piece of green stone, quietly watching the sea change into mulberry ...... the wandering of adults. In my adult period ah, the heart more laborious, the more eager to moist and soft, to be precise, this is my youth. The right hand holding the left hand, any lingering lingering in the heart, the heart has no other request, only to be forever confined to this wanton yearning. However, there is no longevity, no promise of eternity. The sky is splashed with green glaze, also, and learn from each other to brush their sleeves, each end of the world. The moment you turn around, smile naturally, sincere, gradually, my youth in a few times to look back and turn around to write on the trouble, but also throw away the trouble.
Loaded with a pot of wine, drink a smooth, shake your hair, face the day
『Two』 to the story of the light of day as the topic of the essay 800
Once the time, now has long been flowing light. I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to do that. That year? A boy with his strong arms, gently holding you up, kissing you y on the forehead. A girl lying on the hospital bed in front of him, leaving tears of joy. Your appearance completely shattered their little life of forgotten peace. From that time, they just started to grow up. It was you who made them grow up. Every day, the happiest thing for them was to learn a funny bedtime story for you, and a children's song for you to listen to. Then teach it to you, make you laugh, think about your future, love, will not last. The most beautiful love is because with you, even if the fluttering of the year is gone, they will be closer, because, it is affection, it is responsibility. Year after year, you learned two of the most beautiful names in the world: daddy and mommy. That year, you were just crawling. They were thrilled to record it on camera. That year, you learned to walk, and even run happily, thinking you would never need their arms again. That year, they re-entered the park that year, holding tightly in their hands, little you, remembering him asking you, what do you want to be when you grow up? Astronaut? Scientist? Go to Tsinghua? Go to Peking University? And then smiled and embraced you into his arms, said what, you will have a future when you grow up and so on. Wasn't there a day when you said you wanted to go to school by yourself? Wasn't there a day when you said you'd go to bed by yourself? Wasn't there a day when you told her to stop nagging? Wasn't there a day when you said you wanted the same things as that kid? Wasn't there a day when you told him to mind his own business? Was there a day when you didn't do your homework? Wasn't there a day when you thought they were overthinking what Tsinghua University was? Was there a day when you thought you were already a grown-up? Was there a day when you had a big fight with them? Wasn't it the day you realized you liked someone? Wasn't it the day you made a group of people you thought were friends for life? Wasn't it the day when they prepared the recipe for your birthday and you said you wanted to spend it with your classmates? Wasn't it the day when you used to hate them and even wanted to leave the house? Wasn't there a day when you said school was in session and went to an internet cafe? Wasn't there a day when you realized you liked the internet? Even saving your meal money to go to the internet cafe? To punch equipment? Wasn't there a day that was learned to smoke, learned to drink? Not because that's great, but a moment of bravado, and never let go. Is it one day, you are out drinking too much, turn over the cell phone, not a number to dial out? Is not one day, you want to find a *** outside, but found that the original life is so painful and meaningful? Is it when you're hungry, is they served with fragrant meals? Is it when you are cold, is they help you tucked in? Did they wipe away your tears when you cried? When you were confused, did they show you the way? Did they smile when you were happy? When you were sick, did they accompany you to the hospital? When you were in despair, did they light up your hope? Is it that when you are growing up, they are the ones who embrace you and make you feel warm? Is not, is not, they have too much is, is not, is not, you have more than he is not, but when you look back, time, flow of light, against the light, those who were once forever in the twinkling of an eye has become forever once. And that group of people, accompanied by your growth of those, heartless stupid children ~ once side by side forward partners, in the cup of blessing are scattered.
This morning, my mom brushed some shoes and put them in a place where the sun's rays could reach them.
After a while, my mom asked me to move the shoes because the huge shade of the tree covered them and they were out of the sun. I moved my shoes half a meter away, thinking: "This can not cover the shoes!" And went back to my homework.
What I didn't expect was that I had just written for a while when my mom called me out again, "How can you put your shoes on the east side of the shade? The shade tree is going to catch up quickly." I looked and the shade did cover the shoes, I was shocked, I didn't see the shade move! I put the shoes to the west side of the shade, so that it continues to enjoy the sunshine, but from my mother to choose the leeks picked a rotten leeks to the east side of the shade of a meter away, I squatted aside to observe the shade of the tree is how to move. Not long after, I lost interest in observing, because from the naked eye is really unable to see the shade of the move, I helped mom choose up leeks to ...... "Look!" Mom suddenly pointed at the rotten leeks let me see, I looked along with my mother's finger, only to see the shade of the big tree has surpassed the rotten leeks, mom took the opportunity to say: "You feel the precious time?" "Yes, like Zhu Ziqing wrote "rush" "" Do not send sentiments, quickly go to catch up with the time that has fled ......
"Young and strong do not try, the old man is injured The saying is really true!
The second
Middle school, is the turning point of my life, when I stepped on the first step of life, I was stunned, looking back, I had walked through how long the road of life, they did not feel. Look at their own path, those touched, I am pleased to smile.
From the first day with curiosity to school to now, a flash is 8 years, these years, I have laughed, cried, happy, but also sad, with a variety of joys and sorrows, I came to today, the former that do not understand that I have become a big girl, I know that life is like peeling an onion, every layer of peeling will be a flow of tears, I found that although I seem to look very strong, in fact, my mind is still fragile, brittle and weak. I realized that although I looked strong on the surface, my heart was actually fragile, brittle like an old newspaper that had been dormant for many years, broken at the touch of a button, and accompanied by a crisp ringing sound. Nevertheless, I kept peeling my onion to see what was inside, when I finished peeling the onion, shedding tears, only to find that there was nothing inside, I know I was fooled, cheated, but I still can't say anything, it's a lesson, I always grow up in the lesson, I know that now I am still carefully peeling my onion, carefully shedding tears, I don't believe that there will be nothing inside. Nothing, I still expect a miracle, I use my tears, the continuation of my crisp life ......
『肆』 光阴的故事 作文
"An inch of time is an inch of gold, an inch of gold can't buy an inch of time."
In the years of time, the passage of time is always "ticking", invisible, untouchable, and has left people countless joys and sorrows. It is always so magical, silent from our side. When you are reading, it will slip away from your eyes; when you are waving a pen, it will gently pass from the tip of your pen; when you are in the sigh of life, it will be unconscious in the time of the years in the flow of the cycle of ......
We, too, in the light of the shade of the day, so is the case. Once sunny and upwardly mobile teenager, after the passage of time, has now become a young man for the cause of the struggle; also once only trumpet crying baby, after a long transformation, has now become an honorable pioneer ...... All this is after a long time, the passage of time and the formation of time. It makes people change from a sunny smile to a layer of old wrinkles in front of their foreheads, and makes the once curious and ignorant child become a teenager who should know how to calm down when things go wrong. These are the time brought to us by the light of day, in the road of life constantly changing, changing.
Time is always so fast, when we have not understood its existence, it has been "tick-tock" fly away. "Where did the time go, not yet properly feel the young on the old, the birth of a child to raise children ......" Every time you hear this song in the ear, the heart will have unlimited feelings. It is the parents for us to pour countless love and gratitude, but also in the feeling of time in a hurry, we grow up, parents for us to work and bring the old.
The story of light, not only contains the years that never return, but more importantly, the infinite love of our parents for us, worthy of our life to cherish, to stay.
Close your eyes, this time the time in your ears skipped. Seriously think about it, what time has brought us, and what have we lost? The sunshine after the storm always needs people to go over and over again to constantly polish, to get their own really valuable life.
The earth in the struggle, flowers in the smile, birds singing, green trees in the yearning. And what are you doing? We have to go to cherish, cherish the little bit by the side, you will find that we are also writing that story of the light of day!
『Wu』 The Story of Light and Time 800 words
The Story of Light and Time
A bowl of rice, put it on the second day, the water vessel will dry up some; put it on the third day, I'm afraid that the taste will be problematic; on the fourth day, we can almost find out that he has become bad; put it on again, it is about to go moldy.
What makes that pot of rice rancid and bad - is time.
But in Shaoxing, Zhejiang Province, young parents gave birth to a daughter, they were in the cellar, buried a pot of rice brewed wine. Seventeen or eighteen years later, when the daughter grows up, this wine becomes the best wine for her wedding. It has a beautiful and thought-provoking name, called daughter red.
What makes those ordinary rice, into a fragrant and sweet wine - also time.
Time in the end is good, or evil magician? Neither, time is just a simple multiplication to multiply the value of the original number just. Beginning to deteriorate the rice, each day continues to become more putrid; and began to mellow wine, each minute, are continuing to increase its fragrance.
In the human world, we have also seen that once the naive young man began to fall, it is not inevitable to fall deeper and deeper, and finally become full of dust, the face of hate. But on the contrary, time adds gentle smile marks, sympathetic eyes, mature elegance, wisdom and charm to those who pursue goodness.
The same boiled rice, rancid rice and wine where the difference? It's in that little bit of wine. Born of the same parents, who falls like a beast, and who is elevated to perfection? It is the deepest part of the heart, tightly embraced not to let go, the desire to seek truth, goodness and beauty.
And time, it is people's lives in a hurry to pass by, often in our unawareness, he went quietly, without leaving a trace. People often in his death, only gradually realized that the time left for their own has very little left. It is precisely for this reason that there is a sigh of the ancients: young people do not work hard, the old man is sad.
Time passes without a trace, go fast, come fast. And whether you can grasp the time, do the master of the time often determines the fate of a person's life. Tao Yuanming said: the prime of life is not repeated, one day is difficult to morning. Timely when encouragement, the years do not wait for people. Life is short, dozens of autumn, want to be in such a short time, success, climbed the peak of life, how easy it is. Because of this, it is important to cherish the time.
The blossoms of spring, the winds of autumn, and the setting sun of winter
The melancholy youthfulness of the young me once ignorantly thought so
The light of the seasons it took away from the song I gently sang
The wind and snow in the poem I grew up in the year
The flowing water it took away from the story of the light of the day to change the story of a person
Just in that sentimental and The first time I waited for youth
Luo Dayou's song has been sung to this day, enduring, is because he sang the essence of the light of day: time will be how to treat you and me? It depends on what attitude we expect of ourselves.
Light, in the palm of a grip from the fingers flow away in a moment. And the story of the light of day has us to write ......
『Lu』 about the story of the light of day a 800-word essay urgently
The story of the light of day
By the time we grow up, we often think about what I looked like when I was a child. In ancient times, because of the lack of photographic technology, often do not know what they looked like as a child, but in modern times, because of the camera can make this wish come true.
Turning the album, an enlarged photo came into view. He is wearing a grass-green sweater, and his chubby little hands are squeezed into a small ball. With a white hat with light blue lace, sparse eyebrows, and a small red circle pasted between the eyebrows.
(I'm not sure what exactly, I just remember when I was a child, children have to stick a red circle in the photo) two cheeks of pink meat piled up together, small mouth slightly open, eyes are confused.
It is a picture of a one year old child
It is a picture of a one year old child.
Turning to another page, a photo caught my eye. I was so happy to see you, and I'm so happy to see you. There's still a little red heart on her brow, an unknown necklace hanging around her neck, and her baby fat has disappeared. Behind me was the backdrop of a bamboo forest, where I stood unsteadily on the ground with my weight on the ground, dressed in something that particularly looked like pajamas. Next to me was my younger brother, two years younger, holding a sword in his hand, legs spread wide. Only a small part of his hair was left in front, the rest of his hair was shaved off. Biting his lower lip, he gave a shy smile, adorable and extraordinary. I must have been five or six years old at this time. My relatives said that when I was little I could sing and dance well, of course I was taught in kindergarten. Often humming the Song of the Seven Sons, with accompanying movements. But now there is not a trace of memory.
Even turned a few pages, I saw a photo of me as a child, this photo evoked the slightest anger of my childhood. I remember, when I was a child, I had long hair. But my mom insisted on cutting my hair into a boy's hairstyle, and I looked in the mirror
at the hairstyle. The corners of my mouth were deflated, and I wailed. Mom, however, ignored me and took me away directly. Then it was my second sister who couldn't coax me and took me to take a picture. This is only to stop, just younger brother wearing light green back pants, hat backwards
wear. Tilting his little face, let people can not help but laugh.
Looking back, my evil brother said this photo is very much like a village girl, and then put on a calico headscarf, a basket will be true to its name. I stared at the photo carefully, but it is wearing more earthy clothes, plus the problem of light. It appeared darker, and the redness of the cheeks was accentuated. My eight or nine years old was covered by the name village girl.
Next to a group photo. This group photo I remember vividly, I took the mask of Porky Pig, my brother took the mask of the Monkey King, eyes red. Originally, I was insisting on the Monkey King's mask, and did not want to let the younger brother, because I grew up with good things are robbed. But because my younger brother is very unprofitable crying, I had to watch the mask was brutally snatched away. I can still tell the twin sisters in the group photo at a glance, with the first sister being more graceful and the second sister more heroic. There are also a few unfamiliar faces that should be distant relatives.
And then the back is the most recent photo, combed with a thousand ponytail was wig cover, don't have a child's round face into a melon face, after the post-processing, my darker skin also became fair. Wearing a pure white princess dress, hands pinching the hem of the skirt, a bright smile.
A photo, the record is not only the appearance of the child, but also recorded the story of time.
『7』 The story of light shade as the topic of writing a 750-word essay
Essay, for reference only:
The story of light shade
Those memories of the forgotten once gradually precipitated, become in our heart sea quiet and beautiful pattern. But when something really touches those memories, these once will be like dust generally fluttering, splicing, warm images back in front of us. Our hearts will again ripple wave after wave of sadness about the passing, and will not dissipate for a long time.
When I read the article "like water flowing years", it really is a reminder of the days in elementary school. Although the author and my experience is different, her article is back to high school campus triggered by the feelings, but the nostalgia for the alma mater, nostalgia for the old teachers and classmates, nostalgia for the time when the school days, is the same.
It was as if I heard the laughter of my old classmates again, and I closed my eyes and imagined myself sitting in that familiar classroom, surrounded by you, him, her, and them.
I heard you calling my name, a long time ago, with a vague tremor of memory.
I heard the sound of his basketball hitting the ground one by one, and in the running footsteps I thought I could hear the sound of his sweat dripping.
I heard her laughing heartily, her silver-bell voice drilling into my ears.
I heard them doing their homework quietly, the sound of "rustling" spreading through the air as a still note.
I heard her at the podium talking about the math problems that put most people to sleep.
I heard him slapping the desk in anger.
I hear the wind whistling as it breaks through the treetops.
I heard the music for eye exercises babbling from the school's big, old radio.
......
I hear you.
How can I see you all again?
Sadness spreads without a word, and I think of the days I spent with you again.
There are times when you spend a long time composing a sentence, and then you look at the few words you have spent so much time writing with satisfaction, and you are ecstatic.
There are times when you spend very little time thinking about the past, and then remembering the traces of the time that has passed us by with melancholy.
If the years are really like water, then please flow a little slower, and then a little slower.
If the time can be reversed, I would like to go back to the day I met you. The story of the time begins anew.
In the story, there is our lost Shaoguang.