6 words of father's love composition should be written by yourself.

the height of father's love

I haven't seen an open-air movie for many years.

I remember when I was a child, my home was in the countryside. At that time, I never saw such things as TV and CD player in the countryside, let alone enjoyed them. Therefore, if there is a movie in any village, people from the surrounding villages will rush to it. In the open field, it is dark and spectacular.

At that time, my father was still young and a movie fan. Every time such good things happen, he rides his old "permanent" bicycle, which can no longer be permanent, and takes me to catch up with the fun in the dark.

at the cinema, my father propped up his car beside him and stood far behind the crowd. At that time, I was not as high as the bench where others sat. My father always put me on his neck and put me down until the end of the movie. I remember one time, watching The Legend of the White Snake, I fell asleep riding on my father's neck and peed all over my father. My father patted my ass and said with a smile, "Hi! Hi! Wake up, it's all' golden mountains'! "

Many years have passed, and I have grown taller than my father. In crowded places, I don't have to rely on my father's shoulders to support me. When I came home during the Spring Festival, I heard one day that someone in the neighboring village was getting married and there was a movie in the evening. Several childhood playmates invited me to join in the fun. I said to my father, "Dad, I went to the movies!" "

my father said, "I'll go right away. What are you talking about? I'm not a child!"

"you're not going?"

"Go by yourself, I'm in my sixties, so why bother!"

There are not many people at the cinema, so find a place to stand. After a while, a father and son came by. The child kept yelling that he couldn't see, just like his father did many years ago. The father said, "No one here is as good as your position!" " While holding the child on his neck, the child giggled at the height.

somehow, my eyes got wet at once. For so many years, I have been looking for an action that can accurately represent my father's love. Isn't this scene the result I am looking for?

I think of many past events, and I am no longer in the mood to watch movies. Go home alone.

knock at the door. My parents were asleep, and my father opened the door with a coat on. "Why are you back so early? The movie is not good?"

Looking at my father's gray hair and his obviously hunched back in the dim light, I burst into tears and didn't answer anything. I just put the coat that my father put on me when I went out just now on his thin body.

Yes, the father has been building the foundation stone for his son all his life, pushing his son to the ideal height, pushing him, and before he knows it, he is tired and old.

I know that in this life, no matter how high the coordinates of my life are, I can't reach the height of my father's love. Although it is invisible, I have a ruler in my heart!

There are many articles about fatherly love in Liu Yong's "Daddy Without Hands".

The full text is as follows:

There was an interesting news in the newspaper before. The owner of a kindergarten in Taipei collected more than 1 children's pictures in order to understand their parents, and found that most of the fathers in them had no hands.

"In the eyes of children, the father is a person who lacks contact." The director said so.

Is it true that fathers don't have much contact with children?

I remember an old professor said:

"Men are like male birds. When the female bird hatches in the nest, the male bird's responsibility is to go out and find something to eat. So a man can't stay at home. His vocation is to go out to work. Men love their children too much, which will affect their career development. "

His words influenced me for a long time, but after seeing a wonderful picture, my concept changed.

The picture shows the frozen South Pole. Thousands of penguins stand upright in the same direction, like thousands of "blackheaded tombstones", standing in the snow.

after reading the instructions curiously, I found that it was a penguin hatching eggs. They put the eggs on their feet and wrapped them with bellies and thick feathers. It is those eggs that can still maintain 37 degrees above zero in the snow and snow at MINUS 4 degrees. What's even more surprising is that all these brooders are penguin fathers.

In the more than 5 days when father penguin is incubating eggs, mother penguin will go far away to find things. "She" ran away for more than two months, and the penguin father didn't eat anything, so he stood upright. Because as long as they leave for a few minutes, the eggs will freeze. When the little penguin is hatched and the mother hasn't come back, the penguin father will spit out his gastric juice to feed the baby.

In a biological film, I saw a wading bird with the common name "Jesus Bird". The work of caring for the young birds is entirely undertaken by the male birds. In the film, two birds are playing in the water, and the male bird is watching. Suddenly, he sees the crocodile swimming over. The male bird immediately rushes to the bird's side, spreads his wings, crouches down, puts the bird under his arm one by one, and flies away.

I thought, even birds know that couples adjust their roles according to the situation, why in human society, many people think that only mothers can take care of their children. You know, men not only love their children very much, but also deprive their children and their fathers of the opportunity to love each other when their wives don't let their husbands "do it".

I remember a text that said,

"It's so dark and windy. Dad went fishing. Why didn't he go home?"

I remember a poem by Lin Huanzhang:

"I work hard day and night. Hungry, I dare not buy anything to eat. I walked through the street, watching other people's children, and surrounded people to eat noodles; Look after other people's children and run into the bread shop to buy bread; Watching other people's children, squeezing into candy shops to buy candy ... I thought as I walked: I should give my children some pocket money after I go home and put it in their schoolbags secretly. " ("Walking and Thinking")

I remember that the anti-Japanese film "Roar of China" said:

"We will fight for our children and grandchildren."

On the way home from the office, I watched the men coming and going in a hurry on the road. After work, many people walk forward with their heads pulled. I thought, who is pulling their heads away?

home? Is it a child?

Every time I see dead bodies all over the battlefield on TV news, most of them belong to men. I wonder how many of them will be the father of the child. How many of their children will really realize that their father killed for his family and was killed for his family?

Today, I want to say to every child who "didn't draw a hand for his father":

Don't think that your father doesn't love you because he doesn't hug you. Their hands may be working with black engine oil, their hands may be digging dirty sewers, their hands may be aching on the keyboard of the computer, and their hands may be eager to earn more money-here you are.

Their hands don't even know how to cherish themselves!

So, don't wait for him to reach out and hug you. You should reach out and hug him first and say,

"Dad, I love you!" "

another thing: I remember that there seems to be an article "Father loves like a mountain" in "Selected Essays of the Times" or something. But this one is better.

Back Shadow Zhu Ziqing I haven't seen my father for more than two years. What I can't forget most is his back. That winter, my grandmother died, and my father's errand was discharged. It was a day when it never rains but it pours. I went from Beijing to Xuzhou, and I planned to go home with my father. When I went to Xuzhou to see my father, I saw the things in the yard, and I remembered my grandmother. I couldn't help but shed tears. Father said, "it's so, don't be sad, but god never shuts one door but he opens another!" " When I went home to sell the pawn, my father paid the deficit; Borrowed money for the funeral again. These days, the situation at home is very bleak, half for funeral and half for father's leisure. After the funeral, my father will go to Nanjing for a job, and I will go back to Beijing to study, so we will go together. When I arrived in Nanjing, a friend made an appointment to go sightseeing and stayed for a day. The next morning, you have to cross the river to Pukou and get on the bus to go north in the afternoon. Because my father was busy, he had already decided not to see me off, and asked a familiar waiter in the hotel to accompany me. He repeatedly told the waiter, very carefully. But he was finally worried that the waiter would not stick it properly; I hesitated for a while. In fact, I was twenty years old that year, and I had been to and from Beijing two or three times, so it didn't matter. He hesitated for a while, and finally decided to take me there himself. I advised him not to go two or three times; He just said, "Never mind, they can't go well!" We crossed the river and entered the station. I bought the ticket, and he was busy looking after the luggage. There is too much luggage, so you have to tip the porter before you can go there. He was busy bargaining with them again. I was so clever at that time that I always felt that his speech was not beautiful and I had to interrupt myself. But he finally settled the price; Just walk me to the car. He chose a chair near the door for me; I spread the purple coat he made for me and sat down. He told me to be careful on the road, to be alert at night and not to catch cold. And asked the waiter to take good care of me. I laughed at his pedantry in my heart; They only know money, and it's nothing to trust them! And can't a man of my age take care of himself? Well, now that I think about it, it was really clever at that time. I said, "Dad, you go." He looked out of the car and said, "I'll buy some oranges." You stay here, don't walk around. " I think there are some vendors waiting for customers outside the fence on the platform over there. To get to the platform over there, you have to cross the railway, jump down and climb up. Father is a fat man, so it is naturally more troublesome to walk there. I was going to go, but he refused, so I had to let him go. I saw him hobbling to the railway side in a small black hat, a big black jacket and a dark blue cotton gown, and slowly leaning down, which was not difficult. But it is not easy for him to climb the platform over there when he crosses the railway. He climbed it with both hands, and his feet shrank up again; His fat body leans slightly to the left, showing signs of hard work. Then I saw his back, and my tears quickly flowed down. I quickly wiped away my tears, fearing that he would see it and others would see it. When I looked out again, he had walked back with the scarlet orange in his arms. When crossing the railway, he first scattered the oranges on the ground, climbed down slowly by himself, and then picked them up and left. When I got here, I hurried to help him. He and I walked to the car and put oranges on my fur coat. So I threw myself at the dirt on my clothes, feeling very relaxed. After a while, I said, "I'm leaving, write to me there!" " I watched him go out. He took a few steps, turned around and saw me and said, "Go in, there's no one inside." When his back was mixed with people coming and going, I couldn't find it anymore, so I came in and sat down, and my tears came again. In recent years, my father and I have been running around, and the situation at home is getting worse. As a teenager, he went out to make a living, supported himself and did many great things. I didn't know that the old environment was so depressed! He was so sad that he couldn't help himself. If you are depressed in the middle, it is natural to send it out; Family trifles often touch his anger. He treated me differently. But I haven't seen him for the last two years, and he finally forgot my faults, just thinking about me and my son. After I came to the north, he wrote a letter to me, which said, "I am in good health, but my arm hurts. It is inconvenient to lift my pen and pen, and the date of my departure is not far away." I read here, and in the crystal tears, I saw the fat, blue cotton gown and black mandarin jacket. Alas! I don't know when I can see him again! In October 1925, in Beijing,

silent love

life came to an end with the disappearance of the body, so missing became a way of mourning. Among countless fragments, I picked up some fragments and pieced them together into a person.

My father has been in poor health, and I have lived in my grandmother's house since I was a child. When I was 7 years old, I returned home-a completely strange home-because of my mother's work. My father has a bad temper, and my mother is patient everywhere, but I haven't seen a smile on his face, as if it is worthy of the name to become a veteran in the family.

he stipulates that meals must be served before six o'clock every night. Once, my mother cooked fish and had dinner late, so my father sat in the plush chair without saying a word. The slightly fat body drive is like a rusty kettle. Once heated, it can boil. I'm afraid to go near it, for fear that it will be explosive. It seems that once the gate mouth is opened, angry words will flood in.

So, every day I follow the rules and dare not make any fouls. One day, because the bus was late for work, it was already half past six when I got home. I hesitated and never dared to enter the door, wandering at home. Father dragged his sick body to open the door and found me at the door. I turned to escape, but before I could, I felt my shoulder loose and my schoolbag had been taken down. Did he want to hit me? I didn't dare to think about it, but my father just patted me on the head and took me in. "Are you hungry?" Seeing me nod, I don't stop putting food in my bowl.

With the aggravation of my studies, the time for me to go home is getting later and later, and that rule has gradually become dead in name only, but my father will still sit in the plush chair and shake his kettle-like body back and forth, waiting for me and my mother to come back for dinner.

Day after day, year after year, finally one day the figure in the plush chair disappeared ... Only my mother would still have dinner before six o'clock and then wait for me to come home.

When night falls, I seem to hear his roar in my ear again, and poker reminds me that a grumpy and stubborn father is smiling. I know, there is a saying that he has buried deeply in his heart and has never been able to say it from his gated mouth: "I love you, son!" "

Understanding Father's Love

The last depressed class was going on with the teacher's voice and the thunder in the air. Looking out of the window, the heavy rain is ruthlessly destroying the earth, and students are whispering in their ears-they are afraid of heavy rain!

as time goes by, I am on pins and needles. Looking at the rows of black cars at the school gate, I am very anxious. How I wish he wouldn't come!

I can't remember clearly what the teacher said on the platform. In fact, I couldn't listen at all. I looked out of the window again. Fortunately, he didn't come. I breathed a long sigh of relief ...

The fatal bell rang. As soon as I grabbed my schoolbag, I flew out of the classroom and plunged into the boundless rain curtain. The rain poured on me quickly from the top of my head, but I was glad that he didn't come. Looking back at the school gate, the classmates got into the warm and spacious car one by one, and the sound of the motor gradually drowned out my thoughts ... "Son!" A thunder woke me up from my "dream". This familiar voice ... No! Look inside, here he comes! He is holding an old umbrella in his hand and an old man's bicycle. The rust on the bicycle is as irregular as the wrinkles on his face. He has a smile on his face. Although he is very kind, I feel uncomfortable all over. "Dad is late, I'm sorry, take an umbrella quickly, and Dad will take you home." He said slowly. Car after car passed by me, and I felt that my classmates in the car must be staring at him and his worn-out bicycle with disdain. My face felt a burning pain ... He seemed to know something, took out a worn-out five-dollar bill from his arms and handed it to me carefully. "I have to leave in advance. Go home by car." Say that finish, just get on the bus and disappear in the rain curtain with the sound of "creaking, creaking". Where he stood, there were only dense raindrops and two smoking cigarette butts. I knew that he never smoked ...

A stream of heat came to my mind. Some people say that handstand can stop tears from flowing, but my tears are out of control and my eyes are confused.