When I was a child, my mother in my memory gently lifted me up with those big hands and told me to take the first step in my life. Every step of my life is bought by my mother's sweat. When I can move freely, my mother's face will show a gratified smile.
But the one I remember most clearly was on a night when it was raining cats and dogs. I have a high fever and lie in bed, feeling dizzy and weak. Seeing this, my mother quickly picked me up and ran towards the hospital. As the rainstorm continued, my mother took off her coat and put it on for me. She was soaked to the skin, but she did not hesitate to carry me to the hospital.
During my stay in hospital, my mother gave me medicine and helped me to go to the toilet. Under the meticulous care of my mother, my body is recovering. Motherly love flows into my heart like a warm current. She saw it in her eyes and enjoyed it in her heart. The smiling face like sunshine returned to her face.
The north wind is blowing, and there is heavy snow outside the window. I struggled to do my homework with my cold little hands. My mother saw it, rubbed my hand with her warm hand and handed me a cup of hot tea: "Is it cold?" Have a cup of hot tea to warm yourself up! " I drank tea, continued to study hard, conquered one knowledge fortress after another, and climbed the learning peak.
Mother's hands are not only warm, but also very dexterous. Mom always embroiders gadgets when she is free. I can't help but marvel at the vividness and vividness of what she restored. Once, I accidentally broke a hole in my new dress. My mother didn't say anything She just silently picked up the embroidery needle and rusted a cartoon pattern on the hole. Soon, a monkey king stood there vividly, as if blinking at me and saying, "Your mother is really capable."
Ah! I want to praise my mother's hand, ordinary and great. She brings me happiness and warmth, and holds up a sky for me, a sky without rain.
When I came into this world, the person who greeted me was my mother. She held me in her slender hands and smiled at me. I know this is a sign of happiness.
When I waddled to learn to walk, she held me in her slender hands and taught me to walk. I fell down and she lifted me up with those sensitive hands. I know, she made me take the first step in my life. When I can talk and walk, she sends me to kindergarten. Every day when I get home, she will cook my favorite meal with her dexterous hands, and sometimes she will feed me with her dexterous hands. She will even be my tutor. She holds my little hand in her big hand to write and draw. ...
When everything comes back to life, she will hold my little hand with warm hands and play outside. I think my mother's hands are as soft as spring breeze.
When the sun is hot, she will take me swimming with rough hands. When I sleep, she will fan me with cool hands and gently pat me to sleep. I think my mother's hands are as soft as a fan.
When autumn leaves fly, she will knit a sweater for me with her dexterous hands. These sweaters are more beautiful and warmer than those bought. I think mom's hands are as warm as sweaters.
As soon as the cold wind blows, she will block the snow for me with her strong hands. When I am sick, she will take me to the hospital with those warm hands. I think mom's hands are warmer than the fire in the stove.
Season after season, year after year, my mother's hands are full of calluses and no longer delicate. Looking at the photos of my mother's girlhood, I have an unspeakable taste ... diary daquan
Mother's hand composition is 400 words.
All kinds of hands in the world have a unique pair of hands. They are slim but broad, rough but gentle, old but young.
Because, that's mom's hand.
My mother's hand is not as big as my face, but she has been holding my heart. My mother's hands are black and full of calluses, but they can make me feel gentle. Whenever my mother's hand touches my hair, it is my happiest moment. I like that kind of warmth, the warmth of the palm.
I remember the first time I left home to study. Walking on a strange road after school, I saw a familiar figure in the bustling crowd. Actually, that's not my mother. I saw her carefully holding her daughter's hand across the road. At that moment, I missed my mother's hand, the temperature of her palm and the temperature she loved.
My mother's hands are very clever. She can make clothes and cook a lot of delicious meals. After the hardships of life, my mother unfortunately suffers from arthritis, and many joints will be painful. Whenever it rains on cloudy days, her wrists, knees and many parts of her body will feel dull pain. Especially in the hands, the five fingers are not straight at all, the phalanges are swollen, and sometimes even heavy objects can't be lifted. However, my mother still cooks on time every day. I was busy in senior three. My mother even washes clothes and sews clothes for me. It's a pity that my mother didn't let me braid my hair when it was convenient, because I always had short hair at that time. Mom is good at tying her hair and has many kinds of hairstyles. Now that I'm grown up, I certainly don't need my mother to comb my hair, but I miss my childhood feelings and those touching pictures.
I believe that everyone has a pair of sacred hands in their hearts to support themselves forever. Even if the whole world leaves us, those hands will clap for us behind our backs, cheer for us, support us, give us faith and give us strength.
Please remember, that's mom's hand!