Who wakes up the earliest for work every day? Who is the one who comes home the latest every day? Who cares for me and loves me every moment of every day? In my mind, there is only one answer - Dad. Once remembered, dad's hand is how warm ......
Recall, it was a pouring rain in the afternoon, I forgot to bring an umbrella will be school, after school had to wait for the rain to stop in the school.
Half an hour went by, an hour went by ...... It was already 6:30, and the rain was still falling. The rain beat on the windows, beat on the trees, and at the same time beat on my disappointed heart ...... However, I can only wait silently ......
Suddenly, I saw a vague figure through the rain-beaten windows. I immediately ran out of the classroom. At a glance - it was Dad! It was my dad who got up early and worked hard every day. I rushed to my dad's side and said, "Dad! I can't believe you're here!" He smiled and said, "The rain doesn't look like it will stop, it's so late, I knew you didn't have an umbrella, come on! We'll talk about it at home!" I responded, "Uh-huh!" . Dad held the umbrella in one hand and held my hand in the other,
At once, I felt how rough my dad's hand was. His hands were full of cracked and dusty furrows. His hands are full of many and dense lines, that are the vicissitudes of the years ah! His hands have many burst blisters ...... but his hands are still so warm. I felt that my father's hot blood seems to boil and flow slowly.
I hold my dad's hand, it makes me think of time rushed away, that hand of a ditch marks carved out of the road of my growth; that a line of the lines reflect the vicissitudes of the years; you a blisters blossomed out of the flowers of youth ...... At this moment, my dad cares for me, love and care for me a scene have surfaced In my eyes. Unconsciously, my face has long been sprinkled with tears of gratitude ......
How warm is my father's hand! His love for me is ordinary yet great. His love, turned into fire, turned into a road, turned into a little drop, accompanied me every minute, every second, accompanied me all my life. Father! You are the wealth of your daughter's life ......
2. Dad's hands essay 600 wordsDad's hands
My father has a pair of warm hands, in the impression that these hands are always hot, and bring me a lot of joy.
Each of my dad's hands has a few visible veins jutting out on the back of the hand. The palms were yellow, the backs of the hands were a light wood color, the palm surfaces were y veined, and all ten fingernails were clipped very short. Dad's hands are also very large, a full circle larger than mine, not much smaller than the exercise book in which I usually write my homework. Dad's hands are not so delicate or too rough to the touch, but they feel warm and full of strength. With one hand, Dad can lift me up to the top of my head.
The most important feature of Dad's hand is its warmth. Early in the morning in the harsh winter, my father would always try to take the time to send me to school. On the road, the wind whistled and blew, and it was about to bore into people's bones. Although I added many pieces of clothing, but still feel very cold, especially exposed hands and face, as if cut by a knife. At this time, my father would ask me to walk behind him to block the wind for me, a hand carrying a heavy schoolbag, a hand to my cold hands in the inside, wrapped tightly, pulling me away, the wind can no longer blow me. Dad's hand seemed like a ray of soft sunshine, shining on my body. I immediately felt that the discomfort disappeared a lot, and my heart was hot. Along the way, my father's hand has been clutching my hand, so that my hand warmed up, but his own hand gradually became cold and red.
When I was frustrated or sad, Dad would reach out and pat my shoulder and stroke my head, giving me the greatest encouragement and comfort. When I walked a long way, my dad would squeeze my legs with his hand to make me feel comfortable and no longer tired. When I get the honor, dad will make a victory V shape with his hands and be happy with me.
Dad's hands are not as tender as mine, not as dexterous as mom's, not as hardworking as grandma's, not as hard-working as grandpa's. However, my father's hands can bring me reason, happiness, and make me feel different, gentle and kind.
I love my father's hand that conveys warmth, and I love my father who cares about me even more!
3. Write an essay on the subject of father's hand six hundredIt is often said that "father's love is like a mountain, steady and deep; mother's love is like water, gentle and delicate." But I want to say, my father's love for me, not only deep, and delicate, the most important thing is that he understands my heart.
Dad when I was young. I was afraid. At that time I was still small, always make mistakes, so my dad would always swing his wide and strong palm on my back, and every time I would wail in pain. There were even times when he was even more furious and would just grab my clothes and slam me onto the bed.
I was afraid of my father, afraid of his palm. In my childhood impression, dad seldom smiled, due to the burden of the family, due to the grandmother's illness. I never dared to look my dad in the eye, and I can't forget the muffled sound of his palm on my spine, and the burning red handprints.
After going to elementary school, my father still did not change that daunting face, but I was surprised that my father even found me to talk, "You have grown up, I will not hit you again." Only a short sentence. I heard the first reaction is of course happy: dad finally will not use that rough and powerful hands hit in my back, I do not have to be afraid of dad! But after a long time, the long time not feel that big hand of my heart and rise a little sad, this is how it?
It was a silent night without the moon, mom and dad have long gone to sleep, and sometimes there is a barking dog and frogs. I was thirsty and got up to look for water. In the darkness I groped. "Pop!" The cup full of water fell to the floor and shattered, followed by the sound of my dad getting out of bed and turning on the light, and my mom coming at the sound. I was frozen in shock until my dad pushed me and mom out of the way with his hand and personally picked up the broken glass with his own hand, and my tears fell.
Mom was concerned and asked me if I was hurt, and poured water for me to drink on the side. I was too scared to move, Dad thought I was hurt, a grabbed my hand, look back and forth. I saw that my father's eyes were full of eagerness and his face was full of worry. This was the first time my dad took the initiative to hold my hand, the first time he cared about me so carefully, the first time I found his gentle side. Those big hands are still strong, still warm, but more rough; that originally sharp eyes, but also by the life of the rapids impact smooth, full of water like tenderness.
I can't help but hold my father's hands. I still did not dare to look him in the eye, but I felt him smile as he took me into his arms. I smelled the warmth of the flavor, the flavor is different from the gentle fragrance of perfume, not like grass and trees as dull gas, that belongs to my father's selfless, great love for me flavor.
Today there is still no moon, but my father stood by my side and accompanied me to look at the sky that was as beautiful as usual.
4. Write "Dad's hands" essay fragmentDad's hands, not very good-looking, rough rough, also with a deep bronze color, very much like chocolate that, but not as sweet as it is tantalizing taste, there is just a mixture of life's sweet and sour bitter and spicy miscellaneous flavor, but every time I see it makes me have a kind of impulse to cry.
Once, Dad was a farmer. When I was a kid, I always didn't understand why my dad always liked to stand in the sun. Looking at the bronze-colored rough hands, which have large and small interlaced wounds, I always have a strange feeling in my heart, can not say what it is, but always smile and ask Dad, "Dad, Dad, why is your hand and Qian Qian's hand different? Dad, dad, why do you always like to play in the sunshine? Qianlian doesn't like it." And dad always gently caresses my head with his hands that have been through the storms and supported the livelihood of the whole family, "Qianlian is a good boy, look," his big hands wrapped around my tiny hands, with a little tingling sensation. Under the sunlight, it was a pair of white and soft little hands and a pair of hands. "As for dad, it's because he always plays in the sun that his hands become like this, Qian Qian do you like your hands to become like this in the future?" I beamed and shook my head. "En, so what, Qianlian you just go back to the house to play obediently and seriously 'play' with your teacher and classmates at school, got it?" That hoarse voice rang under the sun and in my ears, like a nursery rhyme, singing and singing, ferrying me through life. "Then Qianqian will hurry back to the house, while Daddy, on the other hand, is going to be in the sun, got it?" I nodded with a smile, and ran to the house, while behind me, Dad continued to use his rough hands to keep working, day after day, year after year ......
Dad's hands, very strong, and above 'born' a lot of thick calluses. Hard, but with warmth, warmed into the heart of our family.
Hourly, no matter how busy, Dad will always send me to school, in the hazy memory, the pair of strong calloused hands always filled my memory. In the cold winter, the howling of the wind, like a little hard to beat the strong dad, as long as his powerful hands a wave, all the cold are driven away by him. "Dad ......" I tugged at my dad's thin coat, looking at him with hope in my eyes. He glanced at the hot food that was steaming on the stall and looked down to ask me, "Qian Qian wants to eat." I nodded with a smile. "En." Dad's hands, rough from years of farm work, reached into his pants pocket, felt and felt, and after a long time, he finally took out a crumpled 50-cent bill. But the bill seemed to weigh a thousand pounds, Dad's hand has hesitation, bronze hand in a small area up and down, but Dad's hand has always been very strong, and finally he gave it to the smiling stall owner, the money gently into the stall owner's pants pocket. Holding that warm, hot food in both hands, I was amused as I was carried onto the bike by my dad in a prancing motion, like I was on a roller coaster. "Dad, are you eating?" I asked my dad with a smile. Dad touched my face with his calloused hands, "I don't eat, then Qianqian should sit well, dad is going to drive." "I'm not afraid, Qianlian is not afraid, dad's hand is so strong, he won't drop Qianlian off." In the hazy fog, there is always a pair of strong hands for the little girl to block all the wind and rain ......
Now, dad is old, originally black hair in the emergence of a few silver threads, but the pair of strong hands but still with a deep bronze color, as in the past ... ...
5. Holding my father's hand essayOnce, it was the pair of thick and powerful hands holding me into the kindergarten, but also the pair of unchanging hands holding me through the six years of elementary school.
I remember a spring when I was very young, my father took me to the airport to fly kites. At that time, I still do not understand, little hand tugging the kite in the lawn run, run, but the kite is not high. Naughty me ran to my father's side, tugged on his shirt and pouted, "Dad, the kite never flies high, can you make it fly?" My father smiled and said, "Yes, we'll let him fly now, let it fly high and high." Then the father picked him up gently in his warm hands and took him in his arms. Then my father picked up the kite on the lawn and handed it to me, and told me to hold the string in my left hand and tug on the kite with my right. He then ran forward against the wind, and when the wind picked up, he put his right hand into mine and together they threw the kite into the air. Then my father slowed down and watched with me as the kite flew into the blue sky. At that time, I always thought it was my father's warm hands that gave the kite the strength to fly to the free blue sky.
Elementary school, my father often used his warm hands to touch my little head, and said to me: "You have to study hard, what do you need to study, I'll buy you." I seem to understand nodded. During that time, my father often squeeze out time to study with me, hand in hand to teach me to write, holding my little hand to go to the bookstore to buy books.
At noon when I was ten years old. I'm not sure if I've ever been to the hospital, but I'm sure I've never been to the hospital before, and I'm sure I've never been to the hospital before. At once, I was very afraid, worried that my parents would scold me. Sure enough, my mother turned around, staring at me with a grim face, and then reprimanded: "What are you up to ah ------" All of a sudden, my moist eyes flowed out of tears. At this time, my father came over and looked at the situation for the second time and said, "Forget it, forget it, he didn't mean it." My father wiped the tears off my face with both hands, pulled me to the balcony, stroked my little head with his hand, and said in a serious tone, "Everyone makes mistakes, but when you make a mistake, you have to learn from it, and you can't make the same mistake next time, okay? Well, don't cry anymore, be a man." My father once again used his warm hands to wipe away my tears.
One night, my father and I were walking on the street. Suddenly, my father's hand reached over and held my hand, looking at the starry night sky and said: "Grow up, not long after than dad high, then ah, dad years old, have to let you hold me walk!" I didn't say anything. Holding my father's rough, calloused but warm hands, a stream of heat in my heart surged to my eyes.
Nowadays, my father's hands have been covered with calluses, leaving the imprint of the years. In my dream, I dreamed of big hands holding small hands, small hands holding big hands ------
6. 《Daddy's Hands》Essay 490 WordsI love my father's hands that convey warmth. The palm of the hand is yellow and no longer labors. When I get the honor, my dad will make the V shape of victory with his hand and be happy with me, my dad will reach out and pat my shoulder, making me feel different, gentle and affectionate, and not too rough, but making people feel warm and full of strength, turning red.
When I was frustrated or sad. However, my father's hand can bring me reason, happiness, and more love that care for my father my father has a pair of warm hands, in the impression, stroking my head, gave me the greatest encouragement and comfort. When I walked a long way, my father will use his hand to pinch my legs, so that I feel comfortable, not as dexterous as mom's hands, not as diligent as grandma's hands, than my whole circle, not much smaller than the usual exercise book for writing homework, but still feel very cold.
Dad's hand is not as tender as mine, these hands are always hot. On the road, the wind is whistling, almost into the bones of people. Although I added many pieces of clothing, Dad's hand has been clutching my hand, so that my hands warmed up, especially the exposed hands and face. Papa's hands were not so delicate to the touch, and brought me much joy, not as capable of suffering as grandpa's hands, pulling me along so that the wind could no longer blow me, and holding my cold little hands inside with one hand, shining on my body. I immediately felt much of the discomfort in my body disappear. At this time, Dad would ask me to walk behind him to block the wind for me, one hand carrying a heavy schoolbag, as if cut by a knife, but his own hands gradually become cold, wrapped tightly, the back of the hand is light wood color, the palm surface of the grain is very deep, ten nails are cut very short. With one hand, Dad could lift me up to the top of my head.
The greatest feature of Dad's hands is their warmth. Early in the morning in the harsh winter, Dad will always try to take the time to send me to school. Along the way.
Each of Dad's hands has a few visible veins protruding from the back of the hand, and the heart is hot. Dad's hands are still big. Dad's hands as if a ray of soft sunshine
7. to "Dad's hands" to write a composition, not too much, 400 wordsDad's hands
Each of us has a pair of hands, and every day we use the hands, the hands are the most faithful performer of us. In my memory, the most unforgettable is my dad's hands.
My dad has a pair of big and strong hands, it is this pair of big and strong hands gave me encouragement, gave me confidence, let the fear disappeared from my heart.
Every afternoon, my dad's hands get to work. Dad has to wash the dishes, cook, but also to correct my homework.
I remember the original, I do not know how to ride a bicycle, and began to learn. However, suddenly fell down, I wowed and cried. Just then, a pair of amiable hands on my back - this is the father's hand. It seemed to be saying, "Don't give up, come on, you'll make it!" At once, I was instantly filled with strength, so I stood up again.
I remember once, when I went to kindergarten, my test scores were not very satisfactory. When I got home, I sat on the sofa and didn't say anything, and I rarely talked to my mom and dad. Dad felt that I was a bit out of sorts today, so he asked me, "Boy, what's wrong? Are you not feeling well?" Only then did I tell Dad the whole story. Dad once again stretched out his big warm hands to pick me up, patted me on the back and said, "It's okay, if you don't do well this time, there's always next time, next time use more effort, you'll surely do well in the exam!" Then gently stroked my head.
It was these hands that gave me comfort when I was sad. Dad's hands also helped others to repair cell phones and move house.
It was a pair of hard-working hands that also brought joy, comfort, and blessings to others.
I praise my dad's hands, and I like my dad even more!
8. Father's Arms Essay 350 WordsEveryone has a pair of hands. Although dad's hands are thick and big, dad's hands are different. Those are a pair of dexterous and powerful, solid and gentle big hands. There was everything on there from all the things Dad had experienced!
Dad's hands were thick and large, with thick, bluish tendons protruding from under that darker skin. There were always long fingernails on the thumbs and pinkies. More striking is dad's hands on the back of the hand there is a deep scar, that is dad as a child to cut firewood, do things ...... hurt.
Dad's hands are a pair of warm hands. I remember once I had a high fever, I lie in bed motionless, dad in my bedside anxiously wandering, from time to time with a hand stroking my head, I suddenly feel warm. Dad's hand, there is a most special place, it is multi-functional. Once, the light in my house broke down, as if we had entered the dark world, by the weak light emitted by the flashlight, Dad picked up the tools, and repaired the light, and we "left the dark world" again. Another time, the corner of the picture frame fell off somewhere, Dad sat down and patiently thought of a solution. Suddenly, Dad came up with a solution, he brought the iron hanger, bend it into a shelf, a support, the frame is intact on my desk. I really envy my dad for having a pair of multi-functional hands.
I love my father, I love my father's strong hands, he supports me, warms me, cares for me.
This is Dad's hand.
9. "Daddy's Hands" Comparison EssayThe palms of the hands are yellow, the backs of the hands are light wood color, the lines on the palm surfaces are very deep, and the ten fingernails are all cut very short. Dad's hands are also very large, a whole circle larger than mine, not much smaller than the usual exercise book for writing homework. Dad's hands are not so delicate or too rough to the touch, but they feel warm and full of strength. With one hand, Dad can lift me up to the top of my head.
The most important feature of Dad's hand is its warmth. Early in the morning in the harsh winter, my father would always try to take the time to send me to school. On the road, the wind whistled and blew, and it was about to drill into people's bones. Although I added many pieces of clothing, but still feel very cold, especially exposed hands and face, as if cut by a knife. At this time, my father would ask me to walk behind him to block the wind for me, one hand carrying a heavy schoolbag, one hand to hold my cold hands inside, wrapped tightly, pulling me to walk, the wind can no longer blow me. Dad's hand seemed like a ray of soft sunshine, shining on my body. I immediately felt that the discomfort disappeared a lot, and my heart was hot. Along the way, Dad's hand has been clutching my hand, so that my hand warmed up, but his own hand gradually became cold and red.
10. Dad's hand Essay Thank youDad's hand, not very good-looking, rough rough, but also with a deep bronze color, very much like chocolate that, but not as sweet as it is tantalizing taste, there is just a mixture of life's sweet, sour, bitter and spicy miscellaneous tastes, but every time I see it, I have a kind of impulse to cry.
Once, Dad was a farmer. When I was a kid, I always didn't understand why my dad always liked to stand in the sun. Looking at the bronze-colored rough hands, which have large and small interlaced wounds, I always have a strange feeling in my heart, can not say what it is, but always smile and ask Dad, "Dad, Dad, why is your hand and Qian Qian's hand different? Dad, dad, why do you always like to play in the sunshine? Qianlian doesn't like it." And dad always gently caresses my head with his hands which have been through the storms and supported the livelihood of the whole family, "Qianlian is a good boy, look," his big hands wrapped around my tiny hands, with a little tingling sensation. Under the sunlight, it was a pair of white and soft little hands and a pair of hands. "As for dad, it's because he always plays in the sun that his hands become like this, Qian Qian do you like your hands to become like this in the future?" I beamed and shook my head. "En, so what, Qianlian you just go back to the house to play obediently and seriously 'play' with your teacher and classmates at school, got it?" That hoarse voice rang under the sun and in my ears, like a nursery rhyme, singing and singing, ferrying me through life. "Then Qianqian will hurry back to the house, while daddy, on the other hand, is going to be in the sun, got it?" I nodded with a smile, and ran to the house, while behind me, Dad continued to use his rough hands to keep working, day after day, year after year ......
Dad's hands, very strong, and above 'born' a lot of thick calluses. Hard, but with warmth, warmed into the heart of our family.
Hourly, no matter how busy, my father will always send me to school, in the hazy memory, the pair of strong calloused hands always filled my memory. In the cold winter, the howling of the wind, like a little hard to beat the strong dad, as long as his powerful hands a wave, all the cold are driven away by him. "Dad ......" I tugged at my dad's thin coat, looking at him with hope in my eyes. He glanced at the hot food that was steaming on the stall and looked down to ask me, "Qian Qian wants to eat." I nodded with a smile. "En." Dad's hands, rough from years of farm work, reached into his pants pocket, felt and felt, and after a long time, he finally took out a crumpled 50-cent bill. But the bill seemed to weigh a thousand pounds, Dad's hand has hesitation, bronze hand in a small area up and down, but Dad's hand has always been very strong, and finally he gave it to the smiling stall owner, the money gently into the stall owner's pants pocket. Holding that warm, hot food in both hands, I was amused as I was carried onto the bike by my dad in a prancing motion, like I was on a roller coaster. "Dad, are you eating?" I asked my dad with a smile. Dad touched my face with his calloused hands, "I don't eat, then Qianqian should sit well, dad is going to drive." "I'm not afraid, Qianlian is not afraid, dad's hand is so strong, he won't drop Qianlian off." In the hazy fog, there is always a pair of strong hands for the little girl to block all the wind and rain ......
Now, the father is old, originally black hair in the emergence of a few silver threads, but the pair of strong hands but still with a deep bronze color, as in the past ... ...