Whether in study, work or life, we always inevitably have to contact or use the essay, right? Writing an essay can exercise our solitary habit, let our mind be quiet, and think about the direction of their future. What kind of essays have you seen? The following is my help to organize the years first year essay, welcome to learn and reference, I hope it will help you.
years first year essay 1Part1 silence
The tedious and lengthy summer, always entrapped with a faint fragrance of flowers, as well as the slightest sorrow, but, in my case, in addition to the cold, or cold. I don't know what to do. Standing in the center of the large square, the midday sun, the poisonous sun, above the head of the teeth, unrestrained, seems to want to penetrate my soul. Suddenly, wondering what it was like to be myself under this shell, I wanted to see what kind of a fellow I was hiding under this skin,-undoubtedly an ugly, selfish, hypocritical and cowardly stupid fellow, and disgusting. Yes, disgusting. The people who passed through the square threw me looks of every kind and color, and I resented them; they were sarcastic, sneering, disdainful, contemptuous, and sympathetic. I had nothing to deserve their sympathy, I didn't need it! What I gave them back was a stern look, followed by a silent back, and left in the dust.
Part2 Night
Night, as promised, the large Dongguan, in the darkness of the night, deep and depressing. At this time, I was a little illusion, as if this strange city, a little Wong Kar Wai movie, late at night standing in front of the window Maggie Cheung, lit a cigarette, decadence to the dawn of the flavor. However, the illusion is always an illusion. Dongguan, the more calm, the more red wine, extravagance. Night, deeper and deeper, a kind of extravagant atmosphere, filled with the city over - Dongguan, is not night city. 4 am, standing in the narrow balcony, looking at the night out of mind. I'm not Maggie Cheung, not her part of the dash, nor her part of the lonely, I have, just decadence, there is just lonesome, as well as the repetitive small emotions. Staring at the sky eyes, suddenly a little astringent. The night, is the hotbed of thoughts. Suddenly I want to think about that city, and some people in that city. Dongguan, and that city is too far away, too far, for me, unattainable. Thoughts, thoughts, thoughts, thoughts, thoughts ...... mouth, repeatedly read these two words. The corners of the eyes suddenly a little wet, eyes a little twinkling, like the star at the time of enlightenment, bright and bright, hidden and hidden, and then suddenly dimmed. Not yet dawn. Still a dead silence. Night, swallowed the far away into a corpse. Looking into the distance, endless emptiness when the eyes. Before the dawn, there is a tear, sliding across the face, dripping on the floor, the sound, unusually clear. That is, thoughts are spreading ...... still bottomless eyes, no focus. Years, when did it ever become so pale? - - But, in the end, who is it, pale years?
The years are an elegy, sung by a generation of dense feelings, flow through a generation of hard to give up the blood and tears.
Great-grandmother is ninety this year. Every time I go to see her, she is always difficult to accurately identify who I am, and then stammered out this is who's child. I even forgot my own age. I can understand the forgetfulness of an old man who has lived for nearly a century, after all, in the many years of life, there are too many trivialities, and the years are so long. But strangely enough, she always wore a pair of tiny shallow black cloth shoes, how could she not forget to wrap her three-inch gold lotus tightly. That scene, really let me see the old society.
Mom said she bought socks for her grandma, bought a pair of larger ones, and her grandma really didn't want to wear them. So my mom went to the children's store and bought a pair of white socks, which she put on happily, and then put on her little shoes. I told her she was being stubborn, but mom said it was all she had left when she got old. Yes, that's all I can think about. A ninety-year-old woman living today, now those fast update, high-tech gadgets, she paragraph is not understand. So her little feet may be the only physical evidence that she is in touch with her own time. I don't care what kind of injustice the foot binding meant to the society at that time, the great-grandmother regarded it as the trust of her glorious times, which contained too many memories and past, as if it was her door to the past. Behind that door were her love and longing, her grievances and sorrows, her blood and tears, and the era she could never part with. After all, she has too much reluctance, too much helplessness, a line will be wood, line to the water at the end of the old man, perhaps by virtue of a pair of small feet bred by the old society, have the courage to sit and watch the clouds rise.
The grandmother has lived too long, so long that she has forgotten her own name, birthday, but she remembers to wear her shoes and socks well. Perhaps she was too lonely, perhaps too nostalgic, or perhaps it was the feeling of life being late, she clung to the marks of that era, like the grass swaying in the gusty winds, clinging to the ground. That is her obsession with life, but also her guardianship of culture. Because of too much love, so that is destined to become the spine of her life.
The years are an elegy, the accumulation of too many heavy emotions. Culture is a eulogy, it tells us what, the kind of thoughts, too heavy, too heavy ......
age first year essay 3The gift of the years years is the sky meteorite quietly slipped, although only for a moment, but it left a most beautiful arc, will be the beautiful memories between you and me rooted in my heart.
Friends, you know why we met? Do you ever know why we met? This can only be said to be the gift of the years to us, will you send you to my side, and I *** laughter, *** with sadness, *** with the end of the world ------ our never leave each other, make a vow, can you remember? Even if the promise a thousand times, the friendship between us will not change, because you are always by my side ------
My dearest friend ah, do you still remember the elementary school when we strolled together in the park, singing with the insects, and flowers and grasses together jumping with joy, listening to them to tell the heart of the joy and happiness. We were shoulder to shoulder, hand in hand, back to back, under a big tree, when it was autumn, the ground was full of yellow leaves, from a distance, a good picture of autumn watercolor paintings, sometimes, the leaves drifted down from the trees, gently fell on our heads, the leaves are afraid of people feel the sadness of autumn, so they dress up beautifully, decorated all corners. We look up at the sky, looking at the white clouds, humming a song in our mouths, enjoying the autumn wind, such a picture is so good, can we stay here?
Friends ah, you can still remember, we like to play in a clear creek water, like each with a float, like to hold water to others to splash, that kind of chasing and playing, is one of the most precious memories of our childhood, the memories, as if it happened yesterday, that day, I said to you: "the end of the next summer, we will accept the arrangement of fate. " You heard this, your eyes were suddenly filled with tears, and eventually, breaking that line of defense, could not help but flow out, watching you cry, I could not help but tremble in my heart, a sour nose, and you cried out together. Even then, I kept telling myself to be strong, but ultimately could not restrain their own emotions ------
To the wine when the song, life geometry? The years are like a song, like a beautiful song. The passage of the years, brought us each a gift, and you, my friend, is the gift of heaven to me, without fail, become a precious treasure on the road of our life.
The river of years washed away too many past events, but there is still a wisp of light fragrance in my memory, warm, unforgettable.
Early spring flower market drenched in the fragrance of flowers and plants, I walked aimlessly, but smelled the unique fragrance of jasmine. Following this fragrance, I came to this flower store.
The flower store front is not big, but surrounded by people buying flowers, I can hear the old grandfather selling flowers like a voice and laughter.
At this time, a little girl carrying a freshly purchased jasmine out of the flower store, face with a smile of joy. A short while later, I heard a clamor in the crowd, the old grandpa struggled to push through the crowd, out of the flower store. I just saw the old grandfather selling flowers, his hands holding a pot of jasmine, weathered face clearly engraved with a wrinkle, white hair, but the eyes showed an anxious look. He looked around, caught up with a customer carrying jasmine, looked into the bag a few times and shook his head in disappointment, hurriedly said: "I'm sorry", and ran to another customer. The people waiting to buy flowers looked at each other, some shook their heads impatiently and left.
Suddenly, the old grandfather walked toward the little girl, looked at the jasmine in the bag, suddenly like a sigh of relief, the pot of jasmine in his hand to the little girl, and kindly said: "You just took a pot in a few days will wither, spend so much money, it is not worth it." Sure enough, the edges of the petals of the pot of jasmine flowers were a little yellowed, a look of listlessness. The little girl nodded in realization and took the jasmine, a smile rippling across her face. A few customers who were about to leave saw this scene, could not help but stop in their tracks, casting a look of approval to the old grandfather.
The old man happily returned to the flower store, and the sound of his voice attracted more customers. I carefully took the pot of jasmine in the hands of the old grandfather, dark green leaves in the bush is still hiding several flower bones, but has emitted a curling fragrance, like a warm current, so warm, flowing in my heart, flowing in my memory.
Years of water, diluted many past events, the bunch of jasmine still exudes a fragrance, so fragrant, so warm, quietly flowing in the long river of years.
To this day, I still remember that day - 20xx year x month x day.
At that time I was still in elementary school, and every day I had to go home alone by myself alone. Although the distance is not very far, but every time I see classmates every time to go home always have parents accompany. I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to do that, but I'm going to be able to do it. I'm not sure how much I'd like to be able to hold my dad's hand and go home with him!
That day there was a rainstorm, from morning to night, until the end of the school day, the rain still did not stop, but there is more and more momentum. Standing under the eaves of the house, looking at the sky, ink-colored thick clouds squeezing the sky, hiding the just full of scarlet eyes, heavy as if to fall, depressing as if the whole world is quiet. The indifferent wind shuttles sternly, leaving the exclamations of people behind. Tender flowers and grasses have long been trembling and bowed to the ground. Heavy rain fell madly from the sky, the wind chased the rain, the rain chased the wind, the wind and the rain united to chase the dark clouds in the sky, the whole heaven and earth are in the rain. The wind rolled the torrential rain like countless whips, and fiercely lashed at the glass windows.
After waiting for a while, I despaired that my father could not possibly appear. I dragged my tired body and mind in the direction of home. There was a wide dividing line between the school and the road, which was now a small pond. I had to cross this "river". Just when I was at my wits' end, my father appeared.
He was wearing a suit, his feet were leather shoes, his clothes were a bit disheveled, and there was a lot of sludge on his shoes, and he looked anxious and slightly distressed. But at this time, I think he is really great! I froze there, my heart is full of doubts. Father came over, he let me climb on his back, wanting to carry me over. It was like a dream, but I grinned right back. The smile was fleeting. I saw my father's white hair, I didn't know it, but now I realized that there were so many. My father worked so hard for this family day and night, but I thought he didn't love me, so he wouldn't pick me up from school, how could I be so ignorant. I felt that tears were about to overflow from my eyes, my eyes were closed, and indeed, they were already in two lines. Raindrops mixed with tears fell on my father's white hair, making them seem real, as if mocking my ignorance and naivety. With a hand gently stroking them, as if murmuring, said: "Dad, I love you." Father body a beat.
Fourteen-year-old me, looking back over the years, those warm days, you and I had *** with the ferry.
"Fast, fast, fast! Go go go!"" It's okay, there's me!"" Do not lose heart, we come together!" The familiar words still echo in the ears, but once the joy has become a memory, the rest is just a blurred face in the mind, the sweaty figure on the soccer field, the smile under the tears at the time of departure.
Once upon a time in those years, when I was still a ignorant child, we knew each other. At that time, we were naive, talking about animation, talking about the trouble of homework, and even discuss each other's mother, in our eyes, as if everything in the world is so beautiful and happy. Whenever I called him by his nickname: "Monkey", he would always laugh! He would always laugh and respond with a smile: "Fat Pig"! We were happy together, sad together, crazy together. No one could compare to us! At that time we were still too small, so small that we only thought about how to find happiness, but I clearly know that the person in front of me to accompany me is my best friend - a person who understands me the most.
"Sun Shu arboretum", a person who cares about comforting me when I am depressed; a person who asks for warmth when I am sick; a person who is the first to lend a helping hand when I am in trouble; he doesn't have to be so humorous and witty, he doesn't have to be so smart and excellent, and he doesn't have to be so rich, but at least he is willing to accompany me and go through this journey.
But it's all in the past, not now. Those happy days have become memories, from that year's mutual companionship to today's sporadic contact. The transfer of Sun Shu arboretum has brought us a great impact, we can not change this fact, just more and more lost, how I hope that one day he can come back, and together to relive the former happiness, *** with the nostalgia for those sweet times.
Starry memories put together my beautiful childhood, the past scene has surfaced in front of us, looking up at the starry sky, recalling those shining days, tears soaked eyes, when all the good things are washed away by time, I would like to take you as that a star, accompany me to remember those glorious years.
years first year essay 7In the gradual loss of years, I finished this winter. Gloomy, sticky, and cold. Near the end of February, it finally stopped snowing in the new city. The sudden few extra flakes of sunlight quietly dried the moisture of the land. I thought the much anticipated spring was coming. But, my assumptions were wrong. The ensuing temperature warnings and gusts of cold rain, once again, mercilessly, rolled away the heart's hope, and then silently crushed.
I was in the countryside that day, and my grandmother's body was in mourning that day. I followed the grand funeral procession in the countryside, and my heart was cold. I remembered that in the early dawn, I secretly took my mother's cell phone, keyed out the battery and replaced it with my own card. Turn on the phone. A bright light reflected on the screen, the room was damp and cold. My grandmother's body rested quietly a few tiled rooms away. The sky was a greenish gray, like bursting green fruit. The four fields were characterized by the clean but wet and heavy scent of the fields. There were chickens crowing. The sky was beginning to whiten. I silently wrote her a message saying, My cell phone is kaput. And, Grandma today, out of mourning.
My phone fell into the water a few days ago, slipping in gently. At the time, my hands were covered in foam, washing the clothes I had changed out of. I didn't use hot water and my hands were shivering with ice. I washed for a long time and my hands never worked. Finally I lost my hand and watched it slide in and bubble a little. But didn't have the strength to take it out.
I lost contact with her and sat alone on the cold, sticky, hard ground of the countryside. The sun finally rose, and doors began to open, and voices began to be heard. Everything was unknowingly noisy. It wasn't until the body was gently lifted that I seemed to wake up and silently followed the procession. The pain in my heart, but in the moment of standing up, suddenly broke through the chest, scattered into the cold wind.
My grandmother. Ten years ago, she and I sat under this tree to cool off, she ruffled my hair to show the old smile; ten days ago, she was in pain onset, clasping the edge of the bed is a pair of jagged pale hands; ten hours ago, she gazed at me with tears, and then the vision slowly dimmed; ten seconds ago, she was a few burly men lifted up, her last remains of the body, will not leave the slightest trace of it, disappeared cleanly.
It turns out that human life, are so fragile things. From birth, to mass. Everything is very short. Very short.
She messaged me back nearly an hour later, not long, probably just woke up. She did not say much, just two very simple words: I understand.
age first year essay 8" Tick-tock, tick-tock ......" Little drops of water are hammering the stone a little; "clatter, clatter ......" The little rain blends into the embrace of the earth; "rustle, rustle ......" The fall wind is blowing the leaves; "thud, thud, thud ......." The hands of the watch are constantly turning. We can let the good things fixed in a moment, quietly looking, listening, enjoying bathing in the sun. But we can't stop time from passing. A moment in time is a moment in time, and it's silent.
We can smell the fragrance of refreshing flowers, we can see a deep footprint on the land, and we can hear an eternal legend ...... But what about the years? Where is this magical wizard? We can't touch, we can't see, we can't hear. I have asked myself countless times:What did I do last second? What did I do yesterday? What did I do today? I am clear and vague. We can never keep time. I don't know whether the previous years were happy or sad, and I don't know whether the future days will be lucky or unfortunate. The world is unpredictable. Though I don't know, I look back and find many people have been steadfast in their efforts; I look back and find many people silently standing firm behind you; I look back and find myself growing up from teeth to teeth to a middle school student. In the passage of time, in the memories, in the vision of the future gradually grow up ......
Yesterday has become history. No matter how good or bad, it is all experience. Whether brilliant and glorious, whether lost and trough do not be discouraged. Although the years have no trace, but it is around you. We can walk with the shadow with the years. Let the years no longer have the slightest regret. Do your best to cherish the time .
From this moment on, to be confident, meaningful through the flock of seconds. We can use action to prove that "water droplets penetrate the stone" immortal truth. Even if we can not change the traces of the years and its passing number, but we can change themselves. Interpretation of the sweetness of life candy. You will find: although time flies, but never far away ......
Fantasize about time and years, seize good opportunities and chances. Record a beautiful moment with your camera, the years are walking with you, silently ......
Years first year essay 9
Shallow sun and wind with the deceased spirits just fine, so more hope that the years are quiet to come people well.
The young and crazy how to come to a long time, just like the youth ridiculous, but no one choose to surrender.
I remember you said to me: "Hey, let me rampage in your youth, if the lifetime can not, then in your best age in the most beautiful youth."
At that time, I was big-headed, "Well, do I need to give you a pass?"
The whole classroom echoed with the sound of cheerful laughter, echoing in that youth, now I am thinking, such a youth, really good.
That time we, any time light floating, or indulgence, or arrogant, or unruly, or jangling. In the time to grow up with it, experience their own story, there is a title song and a finale, there are producers and directors, and as the protagonist of the I should come to peace, do not panic, even if there will be a solid wall blocking.
But what I have to learn is not just to know, but to destroy this wall, the culprit that blocked the path of many people, I believe that this is not the end but the beginning.
Youth is something that does not last long to hide. And it, what is it? A flower waiting to bloom and colorful flowers? A huge and prosperous movie that everyone is looking forward to?
It should be more like to transform into a butterfly out of the shell of the chrysalis, that is one of the most beautiful stage.
That nirvana reborn look is the only worthwhile only need to achieve the purpose of youth. Many people on the Internet say that youth is only once in a lifetime, and I hope you can treat it well. Yes, that flower season innocent age, that look forward to firm time, good and sensational, is worth all serious and no regret to spend.
I believe that no one wants to fail the youth, and no one wants to choose the youth in the decadence. So, they are doing their best to strive, and I will work hard and insist, whether the end is good or bad.
Youth should be frustrated after the same climb up, not afraid of the thorns ahead, but also need to wait for the process of metamorphosis, not arrogant, not impatient, not panic.
Some people say: "If the whole stage of the person, the most beautiful section, must be a ignorant and youthful."
Years first year essay 10Another golden autumn season, with the longing for middle school life, into the middle school, to the eight middle school. She is the first teacher I met in the classroom after I became a student in eight. The green years met her, changed my youth ......
That day, she wore a black polka-dot dress, smiled and walked into the classroom, such as a lotus flower fluttering. Carefully measured, she is not high, the body is slightly plump, white face is always hanging charming, bright smile. Speaking voice softly, speaking class is also very detailed and patient. The word "broad-minded and fat" should be used to describe her. She will be in my did not eat breakfast time, take advantage of the classroom to stuff a few small cookies in my hands; will be in my encounter problem racked my brains when the time to come to my side and bend down patiently to me to analyze and explain; will be in my youth for my worry and worry when, holding my hand to tell me the story of her youth. The teacher who is as gentle as she is many, but never lose her temper as she is very few.
I don't know why, I didn't like math much before, since she became my math teacher, I have a strong interest in math. It seems that when I listen to her lecture, all the problems can be solved; when I talk to her, all the troubles will disappear.
I don't know much about her. In the past, I always thought that anyway, I still have to teach me three years, there is still plenty of time, you can slowly to understand. But in the junior high school year, we re-classified, at this time I realized that everything came so fast, so suddenly, suddenly let me feel guilty and regret. In her eyes, I may be a serious and hardworking child, but in fact, my seriousness, my efforts just for her, in order to leave a good impression in her heart.
Green onion years met her, so that I in the journey of life in the youth station does not cause pain entanglement, lost their way. It is she, let me in the bud when the power to accumulate, in the future more beautiful bloom.
Green onion years can meet her, really good!
years first year essay 11Bright yellow, orange, tangerine, bright red ...... we use warm colors to pave the youth. Here, there is our persistence, our uninhibited, but also the flash of our wisdom. This is our gorgeous youth; this is our vibrant `years!
In the evening, we were running on the field covered with light orange sunlight. This is a tough counterattack, we go all out.
The white jerseys fluttered in the wind, and the brown and red basketballs drew one beautiful arc after another in the air. We sweated, tensed the lines of the face, let the sweat dripping.
The score gap is narrowing, has been narrowing. My comrades, work harder! Dribbling over people, a false move, feet up, shooting ...... into it! Heh, this beautiful three points. Cheers. "Tick" whistle blew, the game is over.
Reverse three points! We looked at each other and smiled, for this salty fish to turn around, for this hard pursuit and perseverance to get frank.
Orange-red light swooped all over the sky, reflected in the white jersey, this is our return to the glory of the mighty robe!
Summer bright afternoon, in the classroom "whirring" under the fan, singing like no one else. It's okay to be out of tune, it's okay to forget the words, it's okay to keep up with the beat, it's okay. We sang our own flavors with great enthusiasm, outshining the incessant chatter of the robins on the trees in the playground outside the window. We sang with all our strength and vigor, with the most simple voice, with the most awkward but incomparably beautiful tone. We've got a lot of time on our hands, and we've got a lot of time on our hands, and we've got a lot of time on our hands!
Quiet corridor, silent bench, quiet us. Leaning against the window, with the fingers of fangzhu, turning the pages of youth. Favor the head, gazing silently, silent thinking. Any thoughts in the article stirring, let the feelings in the words wander. We put the hope, the desire, the trouble, the joy recorded in the palm of the years. Waiting, the palm of the spring. This is our wisdom is full of vitality, this is our thinking of the four shoots of vitality.
The heart of the ink, writing our vast youth; with self interpretation, the spectrum belongs to our vibrant years!
Within the time, you and I may have been face vicissitudes, each in the end of the world and the corner of the sea outside the time, you and I are still crystal clear, sitting side by side on the steps of the building years, so that we do not know each other from strangers to the mouth can call each other's names and have a very deep friendship of friends. Song, is our three years of their own personal music song created by the song of the first year, a song of ignorance; the second year, reflecting on the awakening of the song; the third year, pulsating song of advancement.
In the third year of the upcoming departure, the brain is blank, not that I have no feeling for these three years of junior high school, but too many memories welling up, so that I do not know where to write from.
I remember when I first came to the class report, queuing up the kind of immense excitement to now still clearly remember. Because in elementary school results are not bad reason, the placement test that time, the results are not bad! The teacher talked to me individually, and I was happy for a long time! The vanity of a teenager is revealed so fully! Not only did I feel confident, but I also felt an obvious pride in my heart! Both objectively and subjectively I've been floundering this semester! Because of my crazy first monthly examination results regressed more than ten next is getting worse and worse.
Thankfully, my ignorance did not continue in the second year; thankfully, I have a very strict classroom teacher, because his severity makes me reflect so that I wake up. Under the severe education and criticism of the class teacher, I must be unconvinced in my heart, but when I returned home, my family members compared me with my sister who had very good grades, and said I was worthless, and my self-esteem got a big blow as a result. So, I changed, from that crazy fight I became much quieter. The results of the first monthly examination of the second year came down, the results went up, so I saw hope again!
After the awakening, I seem to understand the importance of junior high school. Junior year, like running on the track and field, I was so exhausted that I wanted to jump straight to the ground, but the students who came after me seemed to have no mercy at all to catch up with me, and I can only be difficult to take a step forward and a step back. Pulsing forward!
Years like a song As the name suggests, the years are like a song, it is like a stream from the calm song to the sea like a surging song, the years have had a low tide has had a climax has had the joy of having had a sad and my three years of junior high school life, as if a song, so complete! I have no regrets!
years first year essay 13Today is Saturday, compared to my previous Saturday, today is more meaningful. Because today I came to Shijingshan Park outdoor exercise with my composition class.
At two o'clock I arrived at the entrance of Shijingshan Park, the entrance has been filled with people, looks like it has been waiting for a long time, students gathered in groups to talk about what, as if to Shijingshan and my heart covered with a layer of mystery veil, and for the first time I can not hold down the excitement of the heart, and can not wait to go.
Finally, at 2:30 we set foot on the road to the mountain, our goal is the "fisherman's husband" at the top of the mountain. Legend has it that he is the husband of the fisherwoman, a variety of legends make me more determined to climb to the top of the mountain ......
After a lot of effort, I finally climbed to the top of the mountain, and saw the legendary husband of the fisherwoman. His name is Haipeng, only to see the statue on his right hand clenched trident, left hand blowing a conch let, people can not help but think of how he was bravely out to sea fishing. Then look to the left, is our "township of a hundred islands" - Zhuhai, the archipelago surrounded by Zhuhai, the stars, so that Zhuhai is even more beautiful.
Back to the foot of the mountain, we found a piece of wind and water to start writing. I saw a big tree rising up next to me, as if it was rising straight up into the sky, letting the world get a glimpse of its greatness, and it also seemed to be showing off its height, displaying its branches and foliage. But how many people can think that decades ago...more than a hundred years ago, it was just a sapling. No one knows it can grow into a big tree, maybe a heavy rain or a typhoon will break its tender body mercilessly. But no matter how others look down on it, despise it, and even trample on it, it has not given up. It desperately absorbed the only nutrients and sunlight, and sprinted to unknown heights. It doesn't know what the road ahead is and how it will end, it only knows that it has to keep climbing up. Day after day, year after year. Finally, after its firm confidence and unremitting efforts, it ushered in the sunshine and success.
This kind of unremitting efforts and unwavering heart is not exactly what we need? Now we are the moment we need to work hard. Although the road ahead is difficult and confused, we also need to use the unshakeable faith to fight to sprint, one day we will usher in the dawn of hope.
The landscape of the years is just right! Next to the sky-high tree, in the middle of the rocky crevices I saw a few saplings revitalized, growing stubbornly.