Love is the fragrance of flowers, love is the wings of butterflies, love is the direction of the sad dandelion lost hope; love in the loneliness of despair, in despair, strong, strong after non-stop flying. There is a kind of love called nagging. When I was a child, my mother often nagged in my ears: eat more vegetables and fruits, only eat rice nutrition; be polite to people, do not swear; to listen to your parents, do not be mischievous; walk to look forward, do not go out alone, do not go to dangerous places to play? Whenever you go out, your mother will nag endlessly: it's cold outside, add more clothes, don't catch a cold; go out with an umbrella, it looks like it will rain. Every day before going to school, my mother always repeat a few words: pay attention to the vehicle, pay attention to the lecture, to homework, do not throw things. In the face of my mother's nagging, I was always very impatient, and often yelled at my mother, I know, have said a thousand times, are you tired of ah! Mom does not get angry after hearing, always sighing seriously: Alas, you child, I do not you good? In the mother's nagging voice, I grew up a little.
There is a kind of love called humble. The love of parents for their children is the most humble. Parents are a pair of winged guardian angels, with angels always good care of the child, guarding how difficult, the child to what kind of harm, never wanted to spread wings to fly away from the child, to see the beautiful scenery of the sky. Seen many touching stories: after the earthquake was trapped in that small space, the mother bit through the blood vessels so that the wailing baby life energy; in a difficult situation, the mother endured severe pain for the implementation of Caesarean section, take out the abdomen is about to asphyxiate the child; in the moment of traffic accidents, the parents with the body as a shield, securely protect the child. Of course, also see the ordinary little by little: the father walked dozens of miles of mountain roads, just to see the children are going to school; parents in the snow and ice wandering for several hours, just to let the children have a space alone; parents quietly sell blood for the children to go to college?
There is a kind of love called cruelty. Once in the newspaper read an article: there is a couple, love, but the sky is the limit, the woman suffered from a disease. At first, the husband always guard her day and night, after a period of time, her husband is not in the same as always that care for her. Her husband became more and more overbearing, helping her to walk in the corridor, always yelling at her in a rude manner: "You'd better take your coat! Why don't you take your coat and walk one step faster? What are you pulling me for? Do you have to go to the bathroom? If you don't walk faster and pee your pants, I won't wash them for you." In front of so many people in the corridor, the woman lowered her head and didn't say a word, mechanically moving her feet, since she was a child, when has she ever been scolded by others like this? Since she married him, which day he spoke softly and slowly and pampered her? Men more and more indifference, so that the woman completely lost dependence. She looks weak, bone is tough, the cold and white eyes, have become her hard to exercise motivation. You do not send me meals on time? I eat what's left over from last time; don't you change my clothes? I spend hours unbuttoning my coat and hours taking it off; don't you help me walk? Just have this walking stick! I don't know how much I sweated and how many tears I swallowed, but rehabilitation surprisingly started all over again. Her hands became more and more flexible, her legs gradually, and the spark of hope danced in her eyes again. The days flowed like water, and she became indifferent to the man's tardiness and indifference one at a time, accumulating all the potential and perseverance to recover. The doctor smiled and said she had a miracle, the woman also smiled with tears, but the smile is a little pale. Back home, in the face of her incomprehension, the man looked at her fixedly, suddenly burst into tears: "girl, my silly girl, do you know that I waited for you to stand up and wait so hard? Do you know how sad I am to see you suffer? Do you know how painful it was when I yelled at you and scolded you? But is it true that you will always be dependent on me and never be able to stand up again?"
Surrounded by love, there are many kinds of love, cherish every love, cherish everyone around you. Truly, a mother's love - it has stayed with me for a long time!
The first time I saw the sea let me a long time can not forget
Qingdao, that beautiful and clean city, is facing the endless sea. After getting off the train and just storing our bags, we couldn't wait to get on the bus to Trestle Bridge and start my first trip to see the sea.
The road in Qingdao is as undulating as the waves. After circling around for a while, we finally got off the bus.
The Trestle Bridge, which stands on the sea, is bustling with people. And this kind of bustle is different from the market noise, but mixed with the sound of people, the sound of the waves and the sound of the wind. A sea breeze blowing, cool, as if with the sea's unique salty flavor, perhaps, this is the spirit of the sea to send us blessings and greetings. On the bridge, I was full of hope, lowered his head --
I saw a scene that people long to forget!
The sea was blue as the turquoise sky - no, in my eyes, it was part of the sky too! In the distant horizon, the water and the sky into one. The sea, like the sky, is boundless, all so beautiful, so gentle, so colorful. The sea, as if it were a part of the sky extended, with a little fluorescence of the sea is also in the distance infinite extension. The water droplets seem to be a grain of pearl, no, the beauty of the sea has been like a pearl shining.
Leaving the bridge, we did not go far, but in the surrounding railings will walk. The beach is really beautiful place, everywhere clean and sparkling sunshine, more importantly, a turn of the head can see the sea. The presence of the sea made everything beautiful. I don't know how long I walked, I was tired, lying on the railing, inadvertently looked down at the sea once again --
I saw a scene that will not be forgotten for a long time!
The sea, not dead, not emotionless, it has life, a beautiful life! There was not any tiny wind pounding on my face, but the waves miraculously came to the shore in wave after wave. The few waves that appeared in the distance where the water and sky met were like a few wrinkles pinched up on a diffuse blue cloth. Is this the work of the spiritual sea? Wave after wave came to the shore, beat on the soft sand and brown reef, like a naughty little elf, barefoot in the sea chase, play, play, you push me a hand, I pushed you a bit, laughter stirred up countless crystal sparkling water droplets. Tired of playing, they came toward the shore, ouch! I don't know who knocked heavily on the beach, knocked out a few incisors! He unhappily threw the shell-like teeth to the beach, and called on his partner to go down to the sea to play. The waves pushed forward, splashing like white pearls. Near noon, I was reluctant to leave the singing, or murmuring the sea, who knows the next few days never go.
The last time I saw the sea, we were walking on the way to the train. I subconsciously turned back to look at the sea --
The sea, in your arms, there are pearls, there are gems, there are lively and lovely fish, shrimp, crabs. Can there be mermaids? Mermaids swinging their long tails, sitting on the reef, whispering sadly to the deep sea, which I saw in the fairy tale book. I thought it was just a fictional work by Hans Christian Andersen to deceive children, but when I saw the real sea, I was completely convinced. The sea is so beautiful, so big, who does not love him? Even the legendary mermaid. Sea, pearl is not your tears? Is the beach your seat? Perhaps, when I see you again, I have entered middle age, but I first saw you when your beautiful body I will never forget.
That bowl of porridge, let me long can not forget
Never forget, that rainy night. The tears in the porridge shone with the light of a mother's love - eye-catching and eternal.
I love porridge, especially silver ear porridge. That sticky crystal sugar water, pieces of stretching like a flower of the silver ear, and that rich sweet fragrance, has always been for my love. From childhood to adulthood, I drank countless bowls of silver ear congee, but, only that bowl, let me still can not forget - that is my mother's memory of my love.
I still remember, it was a hazy rainy night.
Too much pride, too much conceit, too much carelessness, let me ushered in my life a failing grade. I was surprised, puzzled, and equally remorseful. Gently smoothed wrinkled into a ball of test paper, finally, the eyes out of the cold tears. Walking aimlessly on the street, looking at the gloomy and gray sky, heart a dead silence. I'm going to go home? Mom will scold me, right? I don't think so. Suddenly, I stopped in my tracks - rain was falling from the sky. The people on the street quickened their pace, and before long, I was the only one left. Tilting my head up, I let the rain pierce my face, my eyes, and my heart one by one. In my head, my mother's advice echoed over and over again. "Gosh, don't you know you have an exam coming up? Hurry up and study!" "Turn off the TV! What time is it? Have you finished your homework yet, ah!" Yeah, if I had reviewed, would I have the red crosses all over my eyes now? Forget it, don't think about it.
I don't know how long I stood, I dragged a muddy back home. Open the door, my mother's tearful eyes pierced my heart, and with it, a big hug. "Where have you been? It doesn't matter if you didn't do well on the exam, there's a next time? Don't run around in the future, I'm going to be worried sick." Mom, me?" I was about to explain, but unexpectedly I was pushed into the bathroom. "Take a shower first, you'll catch a cold." Muddling out of the bathroom, I was about to say something about the exam, but I was pulled into the kitchen again. "Come on, hungry? Have a bowl of congee first. That, your favorite" Following my mother's gesture, I looked at a bowl of silver ear congee. Finally unable to support it, my tears came out. My mother, perhaps frightened by me, quickly asked, "What's wrong? Do not like to drink?" I desperately shook my head, then sat down and swallowed with difficulty one bite at a time. Tears flowed down my face and into the bowl, mixing with the porridge to create a wonderful flavor. --So, my mother loves me so much. I'm not sure how much I'm going to be able to do this, but I'm sure I'm going to be able to do it, and I'm going to be able to do it, and I'm going to be able to do it, and I'm going to be able to do it.
That night, my sister told me that the bowl of congee, my mother warmed up several times. The first time I heard someone walking in the hallway, my mother thought it was me, and went to open the door in a hurry, but after confirming it, she was again lost in thought.
Mother, I'm sorry!
Although many years after the incident, I still remember that bowl of porridge, that love.
The pink butterfly is lonely, the setting sun melts gold, the clouds roll in and out, the stars are sparse and the moon is bright. In my joy there is you, in my tears there is you, after my success there is you. You are my closest relative, my mother! The rainy night. The bowl of porridge. Mother. That bowl of porridge, let me can not forget for a long time. That love, let me not forget for a long time.
Smile so that I can not forget
Smile, more important than anything else, I have to learn to smile to the sky screaming, freedom will give me a hug, with a smile to tomorrow run. Flowers are gradually fading, memories are also lost with the wind, once the dream was very beautiful; now the dream, very bitter.
Childhood's naughty and lovely, childhood's carefree, because childhood I understand the smile, it can make you have infinite charm, can make you originally gloomy heart become more bright. Every time I follow the adults out of the house, friends and relatives will say "Look at this child can really smile, every word with a smile!" Yes, what can stop me from smiling, only smile can make life more wonderful, so I know friends and classmates everywhere.
The summer sun is really poisonous, I walk on the narrow road, both sides are the old sycamore trees, which can not help but have some poetic feeling, because I grew up dreaming of the place is the Jiangnan water town and Shangri-La, because there is no city bustle. Just as I was strolling in the space of my imagination, a sudden "sorry" brought me back to reality, a grandmother was sweeping the road, he said to me in a panic: "Sorry, I didn't see you, I accidentally swept your feet. I then saw that I had a sycamore leaf on my foot, I smiled and said to the grandmother, "It's okay, it's nothing. You worked hard." Then smiled at the grandmother to signal that I was leaving, at the same time I saw the grandmother smile from the bottom of her heart. I then realized that I hadn't smiled in a long time?
The intense rhythm of learning allows no respite, I also put all the free time into the review, rarely stopping to look around, looking for the blue sky, into my eyes there are many colors, only the lack of the sky blue. In the face of one exam after another, in the face of one quiz after another, in the face of one failure after another, the smile of the past gradually disappeared, the smile is farther and farther away from me, and now all my smiles are almost all brought to me by him, I am proud of having such an inspirational idol in my heart, and it is he who makes me have the smile and the courage to look up at the starry night sky, and I want to have a smile again from now on.
With a smile on my face, full of hope, forever walking, will not look back to look, because I know - "Smile, more important than anything!"
The fall in my hometown, let me can't forget for a long time
As the saying goes: "There is a paradise above, and Suzhou and Hangzhou below." I am very lucky that I grew up in Suzhou, a beautiful and full of spiritual blessings, and my hometown - Xishan is the paradise of paradise.
The autumn in my hometown is like a colorful painting that slowly unfolds in front of my eyes, the colors are so vivid, the lines are so smooth. And the charm that flows between them, how much it mesmerizes me.
The fall of my hometown is the season of harvest, see! Large slices of golden-yellow rice, in the sunshine under the yellow shiny, straight into my eyes. The heavy rice ears in the breeze, such as waves, rise and fall, very beautiful. The orange trees all over the mountains are full of heavy fruit, bending the branches of the trees. Golden oranges in the green leaves in the background of fresh more colorful, called people mouth-watering, and can not wait to bite on a taste. The specialties of my hometown are not only oranges, but also the famous ginkgoes and chestnuts.
The fall of my hometown is a beautiful season. Autumn is high and the sun shines brightly. Standing on the hillside, looking up, is blue blue blue sky; look around, is the cool and pretty beautiful western mountains; overlooking the foot, is a vast expanse of Lake Taihu, is really a broad field of vision, relaxed and happy. Grass on the slopes, has withered and turned yellow, as if to the mountain put on a golden yellow cover; red leaves at this time the most lush, it is full of passion and vitality, red hot red, as if to burn up, can be described as the icing on the cake; curved paths in full bloom with a little golden frost autumn chrysanthemums, more mountain added vitality.
The night in my hometown is peaceful. In October, the golden fall, the fragrance of laurel. The moonlit night reminds me of the poem, "I miss my family twice as much as I do at festivals". Think of many friends outside, will certainly be the same as me, every time this time to go home a trip to walk the countryside, to walk a small road, touch a curved bridge, kiss a long river, that feeling is how pleasant ah!
Ah! The hometown of the fall overflowing with fruit, full of poetry, let a person y attached, how can I forget all this?