About the Writer's Writing (1)
"As long as everyone gives a little love, the world will become a beautiful world." Whenever I hear this song, I will think of our lovely class and recall the touching things that happened between our classmates.
It was a sunny morning, and the school was going to organize a spring outing to Cheshan. After drawing lots, it was decided that our class would take part in this spring outing. The teacher told the students the news, and the whole class immediately boiled. Everyone jumped and jumped happily, as if their hearts had flown to the beautiful "Chess Mountain". The students rushed to the podium to ask questions. Finally, the teacher asked us to say, "Because the place is far away, if we want to rent a car, everyone has to pay 10 yuan and bring their own food and use. Do you agree? " "Agreed to the students cheered again.
I stood on the platform and danced excitedly. Suddenly, I saw Cui Hong lying on the table with a sad face. I thought she was ill and would be fine after a short rest, so I ignored her. After class, I went to the office to hand in my homework, but I saw Cui Hong say in front of the teacher, "My mother is ill, so I won't go because I have no money to pay the fare." I was very unhappy after listening to it. I ran back to the classroom in three steps and said anxiously to my classmates, "We are all going for a spring outing, but one classmate's mother is ill and can't go for a spring outing because she has no money to pay the fare." Can we have the heart to leave her as a female classmate at home? " The students suddenly quieted down: "Who is it!" "It's Cui Hong," I said. "What should I do?" "Let's find a way together." The monitor suggested. "Let's donate our pocket money to her." I wonder who said what. "This method is good." The students clapped their hands in unison.
"I donate a dime", "I donate a dollar" ... The students hurriedly handed the money to the monitor, who counted it and said excitedly, "That's enough! Enough! Even she has food on the road. " The monitor took the money to Cui Hong, who took it with trembling hands and was too excited to speak. The next day, we got on the bus and went for a spring outing. Cui Hong sat in the front row with a happy smile on her face.
I can't forget it. It has always inspired me to be a caring child.
About the Writer's Writing (2)
Today, I was sick and came to school. My classmates are very concerned about me, especially He Wenxin.
In class, I even have difficulty writing, let alone answering questions, "Xiang Yunjie, why don't you take notes?" The teacher will criticize you when he sees you in the future. "A voice came from the front. I slowly raised my head. It turned out to be He Wenxin! "Oh, I feel dizzy. "I replied." I see. "She couldn't help but give me her book, take mine and make up the notes I didn't make just now.
After class, my sworn enemy Li came over and said, "Hehe, you have today, too, haha!" " I was dizzy with anger. He Wenxin retorted, "What's the matter? There are today, and you will have many such' today' in the future. If not, I am so sorry. " Li was speechless. She took her book and gave me a lecture that I didn't understand: "One cubic decimeter is equal to 1000 cubic centimeters, and one cubic meter is equal to 1000 cubic decimeters ... So the progress of two adjacent units is to look at her eyes. There is a kind of light in her eyes, which is a kind of happy and selfless light. Sweat appeared on her forehead from time to time, and a few small beads of sweat merged into a big one, like glittering pearls and beans. Every big drop of sweat, like tears in my heart, makes my heart drip with a warm current. It is really time to see the truth. "
In the afternoon, my situation improved. He Wenxin looked at me full of vigor and vitality, and she smiled happily at me. He said to me, "Xiang, your illness is almost cured." I'm so happy for you. " "Thank you, Wen-xin he. Thanks to you, I not only didn't miss my homework, but also recovered so quickly. "
I really admire He Wenxin's spirit of caring for and helping his classmates. I think after this, I will learn to care and help my classmates. I believe everyone can do this.
About the writer's writing (3)
When I was very young, my mother's footsteps always surprised me. Whenever I come home from school, I can't wait to run home, set the stool, guard at the door, do my homework and eat a bunch of delicious snacks. Listen to the footsteps coming and going. Every time I hear the most familiar footsteps, I will greet my mother with cheers and see what she brings back.
I like my mother's steps. Slowly, I grew up and my study tasks became heavier. Whenever I study. Mom's footsteps will be light. Although she has been walking around the room, doing housework. But her footsteps are always so light, I know she is afraid of disturbing my study. But I like my mother's clear and steady steps. Even when I do my homework, I can always catch my mother's subtle steps and feel her lingering love for me.
Late at night, before I fall asleep. Mother's footsteps appeared on my bedside again, timid and slow, as if afraid of breaking the peace of the night. Mother tucked me in carefully for fear that I would freeze in the middle of the night. Then the footsteps faded away, and I gradually entered a sweet dream in her distant footsteps.
Whenever I am sick, my mother's footsteps will suddenly become urgent, several times faster than usual. She is not only going to work in the factory. After work, he will take me to the hospital by bike until my condition gets better. On such a day, I listened to my mother's footsteps, a little more heavy and tired, but I never stopped.
Nowadays, the mother's footsteps are no longer light, but calm. My mother gave me beautiful steps and turned aging into my growth. If I used to love my mother's footsteps because it was light, now I love my mother's footsteps because it is calm. My mother's footsteps are my growing footsteps, and your love runs through my blood. I can't get rid of your thoughts. I wanted stars, and you gave me the moon! I wanted wings, and you gave me flying! I want to wander, but you gave me the whole world.
Mom, it's good to have you.
On the Writer's Writing (4)
I like to watch grandma smile, which is very deep. When the wrinkles on my face are tightly put together, I think it is a kind of transcendental beauty. Her eyes will bend into two crescent moons, and the corners of her mouth will naturally tilt upwards, revealing neat teeth; Sometimes, I habitually stick out the tip of my tongue, so cute that I often think it is a full and naughty baby smiling face. This kind of smile has nothing to do with age, but a natural expression of inner confidence and joy.
I also like to watch my grandfather smile, smiling lightly, not as happy as my grandmother. He gently raised his mouth without even showing his teeth, and his eyes were still wise and normal. Grandpa loves reading and thinking, and his smile is full of elegant talent and the modesty of the wise. Grandpa's smile is also beautiful, which has nothing to do with the external expression, and is the perfect presentation of people's literacy.
Grandparents are very loving and still live together in their seventies. When her hair is gray and her eyes are blurred, grandma will still wear reading glasses to "repair the Great Wall" with her family, and even discuss the popular stars on TV with our grandchildren. My grandmother is a "die-hard fan" and knows all about stars. She often introduces them to us with great interest, which makes me and my siblings candidly admit defeat. However, the most unforgettable thing is grandma's delicious cooking. At every family gathering, in order to grab grandma's food, our children will always stage a "chopsticks war" at the dinner table. At this time, grandma will quietly snuggle up against the door frame of the kitchen and look at us with a smile. The oblique light of the setting sun evenly sprinkled a soft light on grandma's smile. At that moment, I seemed to know the meaning of angels.
Grandpa is a knowledgeable engineer. Talking with grandpa always brings a sense of anxiety. My grandfather's knowledge is really wide, blending the history of ancient and modern science, technology and politics. However, my grandfather's thoughts are never old, and his views on social issues often make me a liberal arts student feel ashamed. Not only that, for being a man, my grandfather not only tirelessly educates me, but also has the open concept of young people. I remember a family gathering, my mother joked that the class teacher said that I had a tendency of "puppy love", and I didn't dare to lift my head ... "What happened to puppy love? I support falling in love! " Grandpa blurted out a word and everyone at the table laughed. I looked up and saw my grandfather's smile at me, shallow but full of the wisdom of the old man. ...
When I got home, my grandparents were reading the newspaper and snuggling up to each other. Grandpa wore the reading glasses that grandma bought him in legend. The younger brother said, "Grandparents are so happy!" Yes, my grandparents made an oath of "holding your hand and growing old with your son" until the end of time. Unconsciously, my heart was wet.
On the Writer's Writing (5)
People always say that old children will be spoiled like mud that can't help the wall, because the joy and excitement of old children are taken away, and children will be given whatever they want, even the stars and the moon. However, my father is not like this. He is more like a steep mountain, solemn and silent, but erect his backbone, taking himself as the standard, silently telling the rules of being a man.
When I was young, my father worked in a power supply station in the countryside, and my mother and I rented a house in the county. Forced to make a living, my mother has to go out to earn money, and I am often locked at home. At that time, I thought the outside world was the low stone wall outside the crack of the shabby little iron gate. When I was a child, my father rarely appeared. At that time, my favorite thing was to take a nap in bed with my father when he came home occasionally. Sleep from noon to five or six in the afternoon. My father is tired, but I just like the warm feeling of lying next to my father.
Time slipped away, I entered school, and my father was transferred to the county seat. One night, my father came home drunk. He didn't speak, just smoked silently and looked at me. He must have thought I was asleep. I pretended to be asleep. He sat for a long time, and the ground was covered with cigarette butts. The next morning, my father told me that I would transfer to a new primary school later. I paused, remembering that I had said that the school's style of study was not very good.
When I was taller than my father, I saw the white hair on his head. That year, I was in the first grade, the so-called rebellious period. I don't like studying and I don't respect teachers. I feel that I can do whatever I want, contradict my parents, and swear. Looking at my father's white hair, I don't think he is old.
When I was in the second grade, I was addicted to Internet cafes. It's normal to skip class or even go home every day. I always thought that I sneaked into the Internet cafe in the middle of the night, always sneaking out after my parents fell asleep and sneaking back at three or four o'clock.
Until the night before the final exam, I was the same. I sneaked out in the middle of the night and came back to see the light on in the room, thinking that I could not escape a beating today.
Father's eyes are bloodshot and there are a bunch of cigarette butts on the ground. When he saw me, he just whispered, "Come back? Go to bed early. " He turned and left. I plopped down on the bed, shivering with cold sweat and tears. I didn't know whether I was afraid or sorry, or both. I looked at my father's back and suddenly realized that he was old. He is fifty years old. His waist is no longer straight, but it is still straight! I silently kowtowed on my father's back. This is a kind of redemption, a kind of redemption for the son who is stuck in the mire and is not sensible.
Father never likes to talk too much, but expresses his love in his own way. Maybe not, but it also belongs to my father's mountain.
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