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There is an education called waiting for 500-word composition.
Waiting for someone seems insignificant, but then I really understand that there is a kind of love called "waiting"

I still remember it was a spring rain afternoon. After school, because of the heavy rain, a classmate and I went home with an umbrella. When I got home, my mother said inexplicably, "Where's your grandmother?" I said casually, "I don't know." Mother was angry: "Go and find it!" I have no choice but to pick up my umbrella and look for it.

It's still raining like crazy. I said to myself as I walked, "I'm sure I'm not waiting for me." Suddenly, I realized that what I said was wrong, because I saw her-my grandmother.

I saw grandma struggling with an umbrella in her hand. She looked up at our classroom from time to time, her eyes full of anxiety and concern for her grandson. Grandma stood there, her trouser legs wet by the falling rain. Suddenly, I seem to understand something, and my heart is like knocking over a five-flavored bottle. It's strange, like a warm current erupting from my bones and flowing all over my body. Tears as big as peas fell from my eyes. What a good love!

I dried my tears and ran to grandma. Grandma saw me with a big smile on her wrinkled face. I threw myself into her arms and even said, "I'm sorry, grandma, I shouldn't go home alone ..." Grandma stroked my head and said lovingly, "Silly boy, it doesn't matter. I just waited here for a while. Go home!" How could it be a moment? Pants are wet, at least half an hour, at least for a moment. Behind my grandmother, looking at her thin body, my nose was sour, and my tears fell to the ground quietly. I feel like I'm in front of her. Not an ordinary old man, but a sacred watchman, a great watchman. Yes! Confucius said: Grandma is here, watching her ambition; Grandma didn't. See what she does. If you don't change your grandmother's ways for three years, it is filial piety. Missing when I was young, flying when I was close to my parents. It's still raining. Standing in the rain, I can't help but sigh, yes! Waiting is a kind of love. On the way to growing up, it was my grandmother waiting for me to grow up; In life, it is grandma who has been waiting for me after school. ...

The famous saying that "the wind blows from the south, stings the heart, stings the heart to death, and milk is rewarded" is true! Ah! Waiting for this deep love has given me infinite strength, urged me to be radical and woke me up from my dream. Wait! The greatest love in the world!