In our ordinary daily life, we are no strangers to composing essays, right? Writing essays is an important means of cultivating people's powers of observation, association, imagination, thinking and memory. Then the question comes, how exactly should we write an excellent essay? The following is my collection of eleven-year-old essay for you, just for reference, I hope it can help you.
Eleven-year-old essay Part 1What is the dream? When I stood in front of the high threshold, dandelion told me, pick up the bag and set off, the dream is the final destination; butterfly told me, if there is no dream, even the wings will become a burden; flowers told me, never sigh, with a lifetime of blossoming, and then ripened an autumn dream, and I told myself, there is a dream to adhere to.
In the quiet afternoon, holding the ink fragrance of the "dream road" sitting quietly reading, and bring me into a new world, turn over the pages of the new book, "rustle" sound of the pages, delightful: read the "dream road" in the "in order to the whole class will not fall behind", the heart of the ups and downs. The story goes: In front of Dongxiao Primary School, a three-wheeled motorcycle stops every morning, and it is Xiang Junjie's mother who sends him to school (Junjie suffers from progressive myotonic dystrophy, which makes it difficult for him to move around). In front of the school, no matter how windy or rainy it is, there are three of his classmates standing. One of them took his bag, and the other two pushed a wheelchair to help Junjie's mother push him into the classroom.
As Junjie grew up, he moved from youth to maturity, and slowly came to understand the things he couldn't understand before. Because his classmates are very friendly, every day as long as his homework is finished, his classmates will help him to submit his homework to the teacher's office to correct it; to the cafeteria at lunch time, immediately there will be classmates will be his lunch box full of food, so that he is the first to eat.
The students will also play games with him, play "rock-paper-scissors", the students will push him to go; play "train", the students will let him be the "locomotive, their own when the "carriage".
When it was late at night and I was immersed in the words of Building Dreams, these vague feelings popped up again and again. I began to think about their own dreams, "teacher complex" once again haunted me, as a child, like to pick up the yard ground broken red bricks, on the opposite side of the waste wall writing and drawing, or write "1 + 1 =? ; or write on the "day, month"; ...... play together with the partners will always follow along with the reading; partners scrambled to raise their hands to answer, my heart eyes to get satisfied, the feeling is like really on that sacred three-foot podium! ...... grew up, sitting in a bright and spacious classroom, tilted his head up to look at the podium amiable teacher, any problem in front of her are solved, beautiful board in front of the blackboard writing the truth of life, that small three-foot podium is so sacred, naughty and mischievous in front of the teacher quiet and well-behaved, the teacher is so magical, so sacred! The dream, the book that exudes the fragrance of ink yo ...... I can not shed easily this book, the story of him has his own heart's dream, and I like to weave their 11-year-old dream.
Carnegie once said, "A person who knows his own goals will not be discouraged by setbacks and failures."
The sapling absorbs the nutrients from the sun and realizes its dream of growing up;
The fish accomplishes its dream of swimming with the help of the river's flowing soup;
The kite relies on the wind's ripples and reaches its dream of soaring.
11 years old, an age of flying dreams, accompanied by the fragrance of books, I grew up in the sea of books. Books give me the ideal, reading to achieve my dream, in this wonderful dream, let us in the flow of years and years to always keep a positive mind, fly their dreams.
Eleven-year-old essay Part 2Today I am particularly excited! Do you know why? I believe that the students and teachers who read the title must know what I am going to write today! That's right! It's what I learned today on my birthday day.
This morning, as soon as I woke up, my mom and dad startled me. They said, "Happy Birthday to our baby girl on her eleventh birthday!" And they had all made breakfast. This scene was very touching to me.
As I sat in my chair at the table, my dad asked me, "Eleven years old! Know what to do?" I shook my head and said, "How to do it?" "You can't be lazy in anything you do. Be more conscious."
In the evening, my father said that he wanted to eat noodles, and I asked him, "Why do you want to eat noodles? I used to not eat noodles on my birthday." "Do you know what our old ancestors ate on their birthdays? They ate noodles. It's because noodles are the longest in things, and we say 'May you live a long life' when we go deeper. Noodles are very long, so on birthdays they eat noodles, trying to make the years of his family as long as the noodles.
To dinner I learned a lot of skills!
You, enviously watched the wonderful pirouettes, said that when you grow up designated to become a top dancer. You, cast in the mysterious color of the "Nutcracker", in that beautiful pathos of the "Swan Lake", intoxicated into the poetic "A Midsummer Night's Dream" You said, I hope that they fall into the mortal angels like serenity and beauty, like from the legend of the forest like the elves in the forest of the figure of the graceful and delicate features. You say, you love that elegant and endowed with the classical temperament of ballet, love that with the sad color of the "Swan Lake", one day you will bloom full of passion and beautiful dance conquest of the whole world, but why did you give up your beloved ballet into the endless darkness? Was it because of that fragile and proud pride? Or was it the gloating faces? Or is it your back and dreams that are bent by the eyes of parents and teachers full of expectations ...... -- written in the front
Still the hometown of the smoky lake, still the same as the rainbow-colored bridge. By the bridge, a woman in red quietly stood: a wink of bright eyes like water, a touch of beautiful eyebrows like smoke, eyebrows locked a trace of sadness, just as the falling flowers point. It is her, it is her ...... moment she is nowhere to be found, everything becomes blurred ...... Is it fog? Is it tears? So thick! Teach me how I can set it aside ......
"Ruoxuan ......" "What's wrong with you?" Mom was awakened by my sleepy voice and hurriedly turned on the light, shaking my body. "Why are you still thinking about Ruoxuan? She's been gone for two months." I ignored her and just silently opened the drawer and took out the photo album. She was still as pure and beautiful as ever in the photo, her angelic grace giving her a beauty beyond mortal. "Hey ...... you child." Mom sighed and turned away. Yes, I couldn't let her go. Even if she has been put into the holy light, even if she has been put into the arms of the angels ......
In the woods that are like a natural oxygen bar, there are two figures.
Eleven-year-old essay Part 4Eleven years old, the years are quiet, the years are not hurt. Ten years later, twenty years later, recalling the present, and whether it will sigh this most real youth.
Eleven years, more than four thousand days and nights, as if it is so long, so short. Gazing back at that past time, but found that the unforgettable is now eleven years old. Memory as a pool of blue lake, deep bottomless, but emanating a glittering light.
Remember, remember, that belongs to my eleven-year-old night, the sky some deep purple. Ting, Jia, Ya, Hao, a few people together to celebrate my birthday. There was no colorful birthday cake, but a sentence of blessing, let the heart warm words. We went to the movies, and in the darkened theater we chewed on a big bucket of popcorn and came out red-eyed. We laughed and laughed and laughed in the big square, waving our youth with impunity. We went to eat western food, Hao was laughed at by us because he couldn't cut a steak, and finally he finished the steak by half nibbling and half biting. We went to eat ice at 10:00 p.m. and asked for five chocolate sundaes. Ya and I were not accustomed to eating chocolate sauce and we got tired of it. Just a few little images like that were so cozy they warmed the cockles of your heart.
I still remember, we went to sit on the swing after school, holding some fried food in our hands, and swinging ourselves very, very high, no matter whether there was sunshine outside the window, we wanted to try to get close to heaven. We came home late and were reprimanded many times by our father. It was the slightly rebellious age of eleven. I remember when I was passing notes to Jia in a boring class, and when Hiroshi came to grab them, Jia beat me up. I was eleven years old when I was a little mean. I remember when we wrote about magic and chased each other to read it. I was eleven years old and I loved to fantasize. I remember the look of Ya chasing me to beat, remember Jia to dig the arm of Ho no good place look, remember all the good days.
This is the eleven-year-old ah, so pure white clean youth, can be arbitrary youth.
And? Dodging the look of the math teacher, playing quietly on the math tutorials. I remember how Ya, Jia, Ting, Hao cared about me, will be "condolences" text message sent a five dozen. I can only smile from the bottom of my heart.
The beautiful eleven-year-old, we have a clean and clear eyes, pure white years smeared with traces of light blue. Unforgettable eleven years old, unforgettable youth.
Eleven-year-old essay Part 5Whenever others mention his name, they always like to say that he is a painter who was delayed by his studies, and he is a famous little painter in the school, and the list of winners of the first painting competition is so striking. He remembered that when he was ten years old, he spent almost all of his `time' on painting, except for classes. Walking into the sunset every day carrying a heavy drawing board, his mind and body were exhausted. During that period of time, the paintings in the drawing cabinet increased like a tidal wave, hard to fill the cabinet.
In the first grade, the summer vacation had not yet arrived, but the weather was getting hot. As long as there is free time, he secretly back on the drawing board, a person ran to the back of the school. At that time, there was a big flower bed in the back garden, and there were all kinds of plants in it, and every time he saw one, he would immediately draw it down. He looked intently at the flowerbed, as if his time had stopped. He drew carefully, brush by brush, as clusters of hot sunlight shone on his body. He did not know the heat, until the sweat drops fell on the drawing paper, only to notice, with a wipe of the hand, continued to draw.
When he was in art class at school, he always thought that his drawings were too simple, and he insisted on switching seats with his classmates who were sitting by the window to continue his own creation. The sky is so blue, the grass is so green, the shadow of the trees in the wind swaying, the classroom students noisy, noisy, but his heart is incredibly silent, he seems to be melting into one with the world, just sitting there forgetting to draw, in his world, everything is so harmonious ...... some strange shadow in his body shaking, he did not notice, until the bell at the end of class. He didn't realize that until the bell rang, he seemed to have awakened from his slumber.
Because painting delayed a lot of study, so his mother does not really approve of his painting. But he took it as a kind of encouragement and worked exponentially harder, and every time he was in the top of the class and the competition. I will prove myself with the results, because I love painting.
Time flies, like a white horse, I'm already an 11-year-old boy, I'm like a lively bird, spreading its wings in its own sky.
The sky of chemistry
Several portraits hang on the wall, and the faces of several famous chemists, including Madame Curie, are shown on it. On a square table, there are beakers of different sizes and shapes, wine-loving lamps, and all kinds of chemical liquids.
A stream of brownish-black iodophor solution squeezed into a small transparent beaker, which immediately dissolved with the pure tap water, which turned brown. I took a bottle of milky white liquid from the end of the table, which is pure vitamin C water, I pulled the hair in front of me, inserted the small experimental tube into it, sucked 7 ml, gently flowed drop by drop into the small beaker, the color of the water is rapidly changing: golden brown - reddish-orange - golden yellow - clear ......
Eleven-year-old me, soaring in the sky of chemistry, every success, the heart can not help but some joy.
The sky of math
The moon made a strong effort to push aside the black clouds, and squeezed out with a big round belly, and a strong wind blew, blowing the moonlight a little messy.
I do not know when to live the pen, the pen tip raised in an inch from the surface of the paper, the mouth whispered the question, thinking carefully, a flash of light in the brain, the pen tip on the paper quickly counted a few times, and stopped. "Nope." I shook my head slightly, tiny beads of sweat had seeped from the tip of my nose. I straightened up, "Could it be?" A subtle voice sounded in my head I grabbed my pen and did the math on the paper, letting out a long excited breath.
Eleven-year-old me, soaring in the sky of math, every crack, the heart can not help but feel a little proud.
Playing in the sky
The sun hangs in the sky, exuding a golden glow, the dew on the grass leaves is gone, and the flowers are lifting their colorful faces ......
Ta! Ta! A friend won my scissors with rock, made a face at me, and took five steps forward, "Again, again!" I screamed in defiance! I won! 10 steps! I grinned, teeth showing, a touch of sunshine on the corners of my mouth, and leapt forward like a light little swallow, leaving my chagrined friend behind.
At eleven, I still live in the sky of play, and every time I win, my heart can't help but be a little excited.
The sky of eleven years old is wonderful, there is the joy of chemical experiments, there is the pride of cracking the math problem, there is the excitement of winning the game, I am a lively bird, living in the sky of my eleven years old.
Eleven-year-old essay Part 7"Fungus, send me a big head sticker!" Feather slammed me from behind, shouting at the top of her lungs.
Mushroom? When did I become a mushroom? Whatever! "
What do you need a big head sticker for?" I looked down and continued to work on my graduate's unique "never-ending" exercise book. "Hey, don't do it, 'buddy' friendship comes first!" She pinched a chicken feather and swept my exercise book, "I'm doing 'underground work', the big head sticker is to be pasted on the class book." She laughed badly. Classmate book? Just to the class book? It's time to write the classmate book? Is it really time to say goodbye so quietly? Is it really so easy to lose your childhood and the classmates you love at the same time? What will my new life be like when I leave this place that has witnessed my six years of growing up? The first time I saw the movie, I was so happy to see the movie, and I was so happy to see the movie.
Soon to enter the twelfth year, how should I feel to accept this new life? Standing up, turning my head to look out the window, want to blend into the blue sky. Everything passes by too fast, just like Zhu Ziqing's "Rush" said - like a drop of water on the tip of a needle dripping into the sea, my days drip in the stream of time, without sound or shadow. I like to think in the summer humidity, imagine, think of everything very beautiful, very dreamy, very romantic. I like to carve a face in the sky when it is late at night in early summer, a face that looks at me with a smile and becomes the witness of this summer. Dark fragrance floating, say endless sweet, narrative endless romantic. At the end of the day, it was loss. This is a season that grows and blossoms in dreams. Everyone lives in a dream. We smile and say that we are stuck in the original place of time, but in fact, we have long been swept away by the torrent of time silently. Memories of a blurred winter. The coziest has to be winter. Christmas. Little Feather, Linzi, small ball ...... gray sky, white earth, bright classroom, when they stretched out their gloved, cute hands like buns to hand over the card, the excitement and joy seems to be surging in the body again.
I still remember the time when I was holding my hand over the kettle, looking at the greeting card with a sentence overflowing with warmth, and feeling that the snow had synthesized into a cotton jacket, which was draped over my heart and warmed up my whole body. Finding the greeting cards given to me by my classmates when I was a child and savoring them, a familiar and friendly face seemed to appear in front of my eyes again, as if I could see my friends as children again - Little Feather and Lin Zi in dresses, Little Ball and Little Huo with pigtails, Watermelon and Potato with snotty noses... ...Close the drawer and say a final, "Happy twelfth, everyone!"
Eleven years old essay Part 8Eleven years old, I want to be a little bird, free and happy to soar! If I were a little bird, I would be free and happy. I want to have the happiness of a little bird, I want to have the freedom of a little bird, and I want to have an independent life.
Eleven years old, I want to find freedom in the busy learning life, since the age of eleven, I am infinitely into the busy learning, and worry about it, sleep deprivation is the biggest flaw in my growth, the number of cram schools and lack of sleep, most of the day at 10:30 or so before going to sleep, weekends are even busier. Every time I doze off, I really want to do nothing about it and get under the covers, but when I look at the homework on the table, how can I sleep in peace? It's like hanging on for dear life. I found a way to suppress dozing off by doing my homework more quickly, almost like a bloodbath, but it didn't work, and my hands became more and more sore! And my neck gradually became numb. Thinking of the psychology class teacher said a sentence: "labor their muscles and bones, starve their bodies, empty their bodies, line whisking what they do, so move the heart and patience, gain what it can not." In the face of difficulties, we must be patient, so that we can definitely succeed! Although this sentence imprinted deep in my mind; but I always still look forward to myself to become a little bird, break free from the busy endless learning trouble.
Eleven years old, I want to become an independent bird, when the bird grows up, will learn to spread wings, but also not inevitably independently to catch bugs, more will be their own soaring in the blue sky! And me? But from time to time, I would like to live independently, and I don't need my parents to pester, support and help me with anything. Let me think and decide on my own, so that I can have an independent life with the same bird!
Once, from the kitchen room came the voice of my father, "Ah, soy sauce is gone!" When I heard it, I immediately went to the kitchen, "Dad, I'll go buy soy sauce!" But my mother heard me, she was very worried, and told me to be careful, but I scoffed and didn't think so, the kiosk was close to our house! Why should my mother worry so much? I should learn to be independent, and how easy it was to buy soy sauce! Thinking about it, I immediately took my mother's money and rushed out of the house. When I arrived at the kiosk, the salesgirl said, "Kid, what kind of soy sauce do you want?" Auntie asked, but I feel that I have been degraded by others, I am a fifth-grade student, not a kindergarten child, I suddenly froze, soy sauce to buy which kind of good? I asked suspiciously, "What kinds are there?" "The bagged and the bottled." "Bagged then? How many dollars?" "Well, which brand of soy sauce do you want." "...... regular!" After saying and feeling dizzy, it's not easy to buy soy sauce! Just when I turned back, I was surprised to find my mother behind me, ah, at this time I realize that this little thing is also difficult to do ah!
Eleven years old, I am busy in the search for freedom, eleven years old, I am in the apprehension to learn independence.
Eleven-year-old essay Part 9"Is he asleep again, just now in the car as well. I'll go and see." I said.
Walking to the front of his bedroom, I knocked on the door, "Hoshi? Sleeping again?"
There was still no response, and I thought to myself, "This kid sleeps like a rock.
I twisted the lock above the door, "Brother come in Luo ~"
As soon as I opened the door, the scene in front of me scared me. Xiao Hui is lying on the ground, locked brow, look very painful.
The white face turned red.
I rushed over and helped him up, "Xiao Hui, don't scare your brother!" I touched his forehead, so hot ......! Just now was good how now ......
At this time his father rushed in and picked up Xiaohui. "You quickly go downstairs to call a cab!" He said.
"Doctor, doctor!" Xiaohui's dad rushed into the emergency room with him in his arms, and the doctor ordered us to wait outside first. Sitting on a seat on the promenade outside the ward, the strong smell of medicine here made my nose hard. From time to time, a group of nurses and doctors hurriedly pushed the hospital bed carts, coming in from this end and going to that end. Some of the beds were even dripping with blood. The sound of the remaining family members crying and howling echoed in the empty corridor, which is the most heartbreaking cry I have ever heard ...... Xiaohui must be fine, not just a cold and fever, it will soon be fine. "Young man, what is your name?" Uncle suddenly asked me. "Xiao Ziheng." "Oh, Ziheng, good name." He said faintly. After a while, a doctor in a white coat came out of the ward, "Which one is Ding Xiaohui's parent?" "Me!" Uncle and I uttered the word in unison and exchanged glances outside. "Which one is it?" "Both, both." Uncle said. "We gave Ding Xiaohui a thorough examination, this is a CT scan of the doll's brain, take a look." The doctor said taking out two black and white images. "Doctor, doesn't he have a common cold and fever, why do we need to do this?" I looked at him in disbelief. "I'm afraid not ......," the doctor looked at me, "I'm a specialized brain surgeon." "Huh?" "Let's start with the doll's current condition, it's not very
Eleven Years Old Essay Part 10Blue, a color that makes people long for the future. There will always be some people who will fight for their future and never want to stop. --Title In a short time, I will usher in 12 years old, say goodbye to that full of laughter, full of tears 11 years old.
Eleven years old, she left a mark on me. Or deep or shallow, or bright, or sad. Looking back at the sky of my eleven years old from afar. In that point in the starry sky, there are always some loss and uncertainty. Parental reprimand, misunderstanding of classmates, the pressure of the examination, that a heavy burden on my weak body, pressure I can not breathe, can not straighten up the waist. The young heart became more and more fragile, unbearable. Tears kept flowing down. But eventually, I saw a flickering light, and I moved forward with it, cautiously, very cautiously. Seemingly wrapping myself in a transparent cocoon. Afraid of being hurt by others, afraid of falling or tripping over myself. But through that transparent cocoon I clearly see the beauty of the world, so bright. The blue sky reflects the green earth. The clear streams flowed with a crash. I am waiting for the day when I can break the cocoon and become a proud and beautiful butterfly. Enjoy the beauty of the great world. Falling down and getting up, twelve years old radiates a beautiful light to me, guiding me onward. I worked hard to move forward. Always look back to see my eleven years old, looking back, not win ........................
At the age of eleven I let loose, enjoy the world to me with the infinite, in that page of the chapter, I swung down the ink, writing my colorful. Whenever turning to that page, always savor the happiness and innocence. The thoughts of loss and sorrow are turned into clouds that roll with the wind. At the age of eleven, memories often surface in front of the eyes, but things have changed, it has never gone far. In this eleven-year-old, I grew up, really grew up.
I know much, much more. Flowers and re-bloom days, grass has a rebirth day. Life, however, does not have the days of re-teenagers. Thinking of this, the heart wants to deep lake can not touch the bottom. I will take this beautiful eleven years old as my most beautiful and deepest memories. After walking through the spring, summer, fall and winter of eleven years old, I will always remember her. I am still walking, for my twelfth year, I never stop walking. Each step records my tears and scars. Aurevoir! My eleven years old forever. Go for it! The coming twelve years old.
My father is as old as I am, can you believe it?
"Greedy" Dad
In the evening, my mom would make a table of delicious food. When we were eating, my dad would always steal the food from me. When he saw my chopsticks heading in a certain direction, he would grab the first opportunity and take the dish in advance. Sometimes when our chopsticks arrived at the same time, his chopsticks would fight with mine. After many trials and tribulations, I was the one who ended up snatching the dish into the bowl.
"Playful" Dad
Dad liked to climb mountains. So he bought camouflage uniforms, one for him and one for me. On weekends, he would take me to climb mountains, and we would hide in the woods like soldiers. He told me the skills of wilderness survival and taught me how to climb trees. Once we went to climb a deserted mountain. The hill there was steep and very hard to climb. I backed out in my mind and said, "Let's just go home." Dad said, "Back down at a little difficulty? Where's the girl in our family?" With his encouragement I insisted on climbing to the top.
"Naughty" Dad
After I learned the violin, my dad begged me to be his teacher so that I could teach him how to play the violin. He sent me to the teacher during the day to learn the violin, and then came back to me at night to teach him the violin. But he always asked questions, as if he was deliberately making things difficult for me.
I practiced taekwondo, and my father was my target. I kicked my legs hard, and he always teased me mischievously so that I couldn't kick him. I would just spin in place. He laughed. Sometimes when I kicked him, he would pretend to faint from the pain. I was so worried that I shed tears, but he pretended to wake up and laughed at me.
I'm 11 years old, and Dad's been my dad for 11 years, so Dad's 11 too.
Dad gluttony, because I grew up picky eaters, do not like to eat vegetables, dad every time deliberately and I grab vegetables to eat, so that I eat happy, eat more. He let me every time, even if he grabbed a good dish is also unintentionally put into my bowl again.
Dad playful, take me to climb the mountain to enhance my physical fitness. I often climb mountains, physical fitness is very good. There are muscles on my arms, yo.
Dad naughty, and I learn the piano together, because I learn the piano interest is not high. He when my students to accompany me to practice, I finally insisted on it. Accompany me to practice boxing, I have more experience in the field, and my physical fitness is great.
This is my dad, who grew up with me.