Holding mom's hand essay

Introduction Dear child, you have the most enviable age, and all roads in front of you are golden, may you grow up quickly to get your bright future. Here are five essays on holding mom's hand that I have compiled for your perusal.

My mother and I were taking a walk in the sunset. The setting sun stretched our shadows and I reached out to grab a handful of daylight. I saw my mother's green silk boil into white hair, time will be her style and luxuriant quietly take away, and then move flowers in me.

I don't know when wrinkles have quietly climbed on the forehead, I don't know when the hair dyed and dyed but still can not cover the white hair, I don't know when it has been trance disease stalking, I don't know when the beautiful hands become bruised, I don't know when my mother is already in the dying old man. The wheels of the years ran over her, and I was oblivious. When my mother was stir-frying in the kitchen, she always closed the door tightly, and when I asked why, she said the smell of fumes would be very heavy. But she couldn't help coughing. When mom was washing clothes on the balcony, I said I'll do it, I'll do it myself if you're not at home, but she said I'll do it if I'm at home now, and I asked why, and she said the water would be very cold in winter. I asked why, and she said the water would be cold in winter. But I could clearly see that my mom's hands had been scraped layer after layer. When I saw my classmates' mothers all glowing, she would also be envious, and would hope that she could also become younger and more beautiful, just like Xiao *. But she didn't buy those expensive cosmetics after all.

Mother is a pragmatic person. I took my mother's hand, and she snuggled up to me as if she were a small child. When did her skin start to become so loose? The first thing that you need to do is to get your hands on some of the most popular products in the world. Mother was also a strong person. When she argued with my father, she would talk back in anger; when I did poorly in exams, she would nag me and then say that I would not be allowed to do so poorly in the future; and when she talked to others she would show off what she had, like all women of her age do. When we fought with my mother, it was usually a cold war. It was as if we were the only ones left in the big world. Her hands were behind her back, and I wanted to pull them up and apologize to her. Ultimately, I got in my own way. We were distant from each other, far away from each other, but the breath we exhaled touched each other and condensed into mist in the air.

My mother and I were walking hand in hand at sunset. My mother is an ordinary middle-aged woman, but she is above all in my heart. I love my mother. I want to hold her hand forever and keep walking.

My grandma and grandpa died early, and my mom spent her childhood in the homes of several relatives. As you can imagine, mom lived a nanny-like life. Because of this, mom practiced a pair of hands that were strong enough to support the whole family from a young age. I have never grown up without my mom's hands.

Mom's hands are full of warmth, hard work and magic.

Mom's hands, a pair of warm hands. When I was young, even if I was a little bit wronged, or dirty beloved clothes, I will be hysterical crying and screaming. At this time, my mother always used her fair and slender hand to wipe away the tears on my face. At some point, a big, red apple quietly appeared in my hand. I couldn't help but break into tears. Mom's hand, strokes away the sorrow, brings joy.

Mom's hand, is a pair of laborious hand. Dad is busy at work, the home is on the mom. Inside and outside the house, the size of things, mom used her hands to hold up a home. The complicated and messy housework made mom's hands stained with age spots and corns. Decades of hard work has honed mom into a smart and capable woman. Mom's hand, sent away is the dust of the years, brought is the happiness of the family.

Mom's hand, is a pair of magical hands. Whenever I am disillusioned, helpless 'time, mom will use her loving hand to stroke my head, smile and say, "It's okay, cheer up, everything will be fine." In my mother's gentle caress, the confidence and courage to overcome difficulties in my heart. Mom's wrinkled hand is so amazing, not only can give me comfort, but also can give me strength. I know that the folds and wrinkles in my mother's hands are full of love and magic! Mom's hand, to get rid of is lost, born is relief.

Mom's hand, holding me all the way; Mom's hand, for me to create a home of love. Mom with her hands, interpretation of love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love.

When you are tired, don't forget to hold your mom's hand to get comfort, happiness, faith and strength. Those hands are our lifelong support ah.

Outside the window, the cold wind was accompanied by the falling leaves; between the window slits, the cold wind blew in one by one; beside the window, I was applying moisturizing lotion to my own to resist the dryness and bursting. Suddenly I saw a middle-aged woman downstairs, constantly rubbing her hands in the cold wind, and I couldn't help but think of my mother's hands.

When I was a kid, I always loved to hold my mom's hand. Every time, and mom to go shopping, I will tightly pull mom's hand. Because as long as I follow my mom, I will meet a lot of fun. Whenever I went shopping with my mom and saw something delicious and new, I would hold my mom's hand and ask her to buy this and that for me. If my mom said no, I would hold her hand more tightly, pampering her, looking at her with longing and pity, while she could not help me. When I was a child, every time I held my mom's hand, I always had a feeling of security, warmth and full of joy in my heart.

Along with my growth, holding my mother's hand, seems to no longer appear; mom's hand is gradually rough and old.

In the three years of junior high school, my mom's hand has been by my side, accompanying me and helping me. Every time I come home, just need me to put down the schoolbag, and then pick up the rice bowl to eat; every time I take a bath, just need me to set aside the clothes, it can be; every time I finish homework, I just need to leave the draft paper or books casually on the table, it can be; every time I sleep and wake up, just need to throw the quilt casually on one side and then throw the pajamas on the bed, it can be; every time, I. In this way, the three years of junior high school I merely moved for my study outside, it seems that other things, I do not need to personally worry about. Because, every thing has mom's hand behind me for me to take care of.

Today, however, mom's hands are no longer so flexible. As mom's minor illnesses over the years piled up together and triggered a major attack on her physical ailments. Mom's hands are always going numb in an irregular manner for some reason, and sometimes, the hands seem to have no sensation at all. When she did her work, her hands would constantly tremble. Sometimes, she didn't even have the strength to pick up the dishes. Every time I came home, when I saw my mom's hand twitching, I would strain to pump her hand and keep slapping her palm until she could feel her hand. And my heart kept fluttering.

Now I am in school accommodation. In school, every time I eat, I have to go to the line to play rice by myself, after eating, I have to wash it clean by myself; every time I take a bath, I have to wash my clothes by myself, even if the weather is very cold, the water is like ice, I have to wash the clothes by hand myself; every time I finish my homework, I know how to clean up by myself; every time I wake up from sleep, I know how to fold the quilt and put my pajamas away. I'm not sure if you're going to be able to do this, but I'm sure you're going to be able to do it," he said.

But even though I've learned this and done this, my mom's hand won't change back to what it used to be. Just like the three years I spent in middle school, there will never be another middle school in my life.

Thinking of this, my eyes reddened, and the tears slid down my cheeks, turning into an icy spring in winter, cold and clear.

Mom's hand through the vicissitudes of life, through the test of time, has become unbearable to drive. However, it is still so warm and safe.

Mom, in the future, let me hold your hand, let me come to your laundry, for you to cook, for you to fold quilt, for you to do everything you once did for me!

The temperature of my mother's palm has gradually faded in my hand, and I hold my fingers tightly, wanting to keep that residual warmth.

Early childhood is not afraid of the cold, because there is a mother's warm hands; childhood is not afraid of falling, because there is a mother's big hands of care; teenagers are not afraid to fall behind in schooling, because there is a mother's stern hands. But now ......

Adolescence, we are sensitive and rebellious, the hands of the mother is no longer a warm harbor, this pair of hands full of love and care is completely left in mid-air, let the cold wind mercilessly blowing away the temperature of it, and more blowing cold mother's heart.

I have to go, leaning on the wall helplessly looking at the busy figure of the mother, only in the school stayed a week, the mother almost brought enough supplies for a month, looking at the table constantly high up the big bag, the heart can not help but annoyed.

"Okay!" Mother said with slight delight as she carried the heaviest bag on her back. She habitually vacated a hand, reached in mid-air, suddenly paused, and retracted in a panic. The air was a little more awkward, for this warm hand, I have refused too many times mother, is afraid of being rejected again?

I picked up the rest of the two lightweight small bag, flew down the stairs, out of the building door, inadvertently looked toward the stairway, the mother slightly bowed his back, in the luggage bag under the suppression of some thin, fine beads of sweat sticking to the sea of her slippery streams, as lovers in the cold winds of the barrier also refused to separate. Her right hand gripped the strap of the carry-on bag tightly, the veins on the back of her hand were like a giant dragon trying to break out of the skin barrier. The left hand struggled to straighten the strap of the backpack that had slipped off his shoulder, clenching his teeth and holding on.

When he saw me, he immediately spread out his tightly locked eyebrows and walked towards me with feigned ease. Turning around, my eyes touched my mother's frozen red hands, as sharp as a sword piercing my eyes, my mother to the left hand lightly haha breath, the right hand on the bag to the left hand under the gently flung the numb right hand, in the mother's flank, I clearly see her right hand palm of the deep le, like a gully full of blood, a burst of stabbing pain in my heart, my mother, you gave me too much touched! .

Time can make people lose everything, but affection is never cut off, mother's love for me has never changed, just my own heart set up an invisible barrier, hindering the influx of mother's love. I finally understand, want to keep my mother to give me the warmth of the palm of the hand, only by holding tight fingers is not possible, the way, is to hold the mother's hand again.

The sun finally broke through the thick clouds, I stretched out to cover the warmth of the left hand, slowly reached out to the mother of the "injured" right hand ......

I like it very much.

I love my mom, and I love her hands even more!

When I was a child, my mother took care of me with her thin and delicate hands; when I was ready to study, she taught me to make good use of my hands to deal with trivial matters with her all-powerful hands; and when I did something wrong, my mother taught me patiently with her warm hands, so that I would know my mistakes and be able to change them.

Mom's hands can do anything! Mom is like a big five chef, can cook a delicious food; and a branch of the brush by her hands can change a painting is very good; the most magical is a ball of curly messy wool by her hands can create a bright, comfortable undershirt! When I had a cold, my mom's hands were even more amazing! Through her gentle massage techniques and professional spit-flapping, I was healed and refreshed in no time! Her love for me was evident in these details of daily life!

My mom's hands worked from morning to night, and never stopped for a single moment for the family to pay for me! I hope to use my little hands to help my mom massage her aching shoulders, can slightly eliminate her fatigue, and even more hope to be able to walk and chat with my mom hand in hand, because my mom's hand is the world's most warm to me!

Mom has worked hard for you! Over the years you have been worrying about me, because of your love, patience, careful care, so that I can live so warm, always enjoy the happiness of the family.