Introduction; Slightly close your eyes, thoughts turn over, there are always some times in the heart of the surplus, not dissipated. The following is the most beautiful time seventh grade essay 500 words, welcome to refer to.
Part 1: The most beautiful time seventh grade essay 500 wordsWhen I was a child, my favorite thing to do was to let my grandpa take me to the bazaar. The bazaar is a good place where all the rare gadgets for kids can be bought anywhere. I'm not sure if you're going to be able to find the right one, but I'm sure you'll be able to find the right one, and I'm sure you'll be able to find the right one. When I saw the rare things, take the things on nothing to go forward, go also behind the kind smile, while paying the hometown language: "play go, slow down ah." I'm not sure what I'm talking about, but I'm not sure what I'm talking about, and I'm not sure what I'm talking about.
Then I grew up, and my favorite thing to do was to ride in my grandpa's green-painted motorcycle, and walk from school to home.
When I was in junior high school, I didn't live with my grandma and grandpa, and the time I spent with them every day was just an hour of dinner. Every evening, when I dragged the tired body back home, smelled the grandpa just made the dishes of the dishes, tiredness swept away, and grandpa often manipulate the hometown language: "Quickly go to wash your hands sweet, sit there and wait, right away!"
When I heard this, I would throw down my shoes and run to the restroom, scrubbing hurriedly, then rushing to the table, picking up chopsticks and waiting for the arrival of the dishes.
Within a few minutes, an old man with a few strands of white hair on his head walked slowly out of the kitchen and walked slowly to the table, "Eat." Two words slowly flowed out of the old man's mouth, my long-prepared chopsticks began to shuttle between the dishes and vegetables, I feasted on the side of the grandpa ate light small dishes, while eating the side of the bowl to me overflowing with thick soup of meat, looking at me with a smile on his face, wait until I finally eat not to move, and quietly put down the chopsticks, touching their own stomachs, this is the old man only really began to eat, only to those meats to start, to eat a couple of mouths without forgetting to I was dismissed, "Go and study, I'll eat for a while and I'll clean up." That short hour is the most beautiful time.
Grandmaster, you have been with me for twelve years, I eat from your hands of home cooking, listening to the mouth of Shanxi dialect, may we grandchildren can continue to go farther.
Part II: The most beautiful time seventh grade essay 500 words
Slightly close your eyes, thoughts flying, there are always some time in the bottom of the heart surplus, not dissipated.
I remember that New Year's Eve, too grandma to teach me to cut window flowers. I still remember she asked me with almost pleading words, and then looked at me after I agreed to smile wrinkles rolled, like a bright chrysanthemum.
The big red paper is neat and tidy, and the scissors are small and delicate, and when these are passed from the hands of the grandmother, they will be turned into a delicate pattern of hollowing out, and then into a big red happy word posted at home, and then into a transparent and light window flower on the window. I was learning by the side, and she was chattering away, her smile, which had been silent for many years, piling up on her face, revealing her hollow mouth with few teeth. But it was too difficult for a small child to cut the windowpane, and before I could do it, I threw down the scissors and slammed the door of my room. I didn't know that at that moment my great-grandmother's laughter came to an abrupt end, her mouth slightly open, and her straight back sunk into a deep pit. The scissors disobediently slipped out of her matchstick-like hands, making a crisp sound on the ground.
As fate would have it, my great-grandmother died in the hospital a few months after New Year's that year.
I haven't forgotten my amazement at that time, I froze, heartbreaking pain attacked the whole body, like a fish out of the water, breathing hard. In an instant, my body felt like it was being drained, and the tears were raging on my face, and I couldn't care less about wiping them off, letting them fall, fall, fall.
The brain crossed a section of the same time, remember she gave me cut window flowers, remember she sewed me insoles, remember I was arrogant again and again, she tolerated again and again, remember her cracked smile, full of smiles, remember when she smiled because the mouth full of not a few teeth of the empty ......
The person has passed away, those times look a different kind of bitterness, as tea when the interest is strong into a slight bitterness between the lips and teeth. But those times, but also the heart of the most precious, the most beautiful, is placed in the heart of that happiness.
Those most beautiful time, should be treasured with memory, with the years to gaze.
Part III: The most beautiful time seventh grade essay 500 words
A
When I was in kindergarten, my favorite thing to do was to sit on my father's shoulders. Every time after school, I would reach out and put my arm around my dad's neck. This is the father will laugh, with a hand on my armpits, lift me up and turn around and then put on his shoulders. I was so short that I could only see people's legs when I walked on the ground, but when I sat on my dad's shoulder, there was a sea of people's heads in front of me. I would always reach out with my devilish little hands and rub my dad's hair into a chicken nest, pointing in the direction of my dad as he stared at me helplessly. The time when I sat on my dad's shoulder was the most beautiful.
Two
Elementary school was the time when my interest in dance was the most unstable. The time when I might be happily practicing my moves one day, and the next day, I was incredibly resistant. My dance teacher's name was Ji, and he had high expectations of me, so he praised or criticized me at times. Mr. Ji's words of praise and criticism were too much for me to bear, and I would turn my head to look for my father's eyes. Dad is always smiling and looking at me, every time I turn around, will run into my father's eyes, I jumped to where he saw that, no matter where I jumped to, can not jump out of the father's eyes. That dancing time is the most beautiful.
Three
No matter when, Dad always pick me up home, and his slender figure across the bike is the best sign that I'm looking for him. I jumped on the bike with my arms around my dad's waist and buried my face in his spine, feeling the heat of his body, which was always extra warm. On sunny days, my dad would straighten his back to block the sun for me; on rainy days, my dad would straighten his back to block the rain for me; on windy days, my dad would straighten his back to block the wind for me. The time when I came home from school was the most beautiful.
The most beautiful time is not much, but it will certainly have a father's figure, the appearance of his father's smile, the appearance of concern, the appearance of straightening the waist. Time is changing, people are changing, things are changing, and the only constant is my father's heart to love me.