First-person simulation: occasionally seeing colorful balconies really aroused my interest in planting flowers. I have received some flowers and plants from my friends' homes, such as begonia, roses and asparagus ... at first, I remembered to water and loosen the soil, but it was difficult to persist. I just realized that raising flowers is not a leisurely thing, but a matter for hard-working people.
Only cactus survived.
No matter rain or shine, no matter how dry and cracked the small pot soil is, it is always green and straight, and every thorn sticks out its eager beak and greedily pecks at the sunshine and air. But it didn't bring me joy. Neither beautiful nor elegant. I just regret to think, why are beautiful women always so delicate and beautiful women always so stubborn? If only begonia, roses and asparagus could live as well. I don't care about its existence anymore.
In the evening after a long time, I leaned on the balcony and looked far away, and I accidentally caught a glimpse of this cactus. It added a lot of new knots and spread out like a halberd. I couldn't help laughing when I looked at it carefully. Isn't it? Not to mention how crooked and grotesque its metacarpal joints are, the green palm surface alone is covered with wrinkles and fine lines, like an old man's face. The more I look at it, the uglier it becomes ... I don't know how it grows so crazy. Maybe it is a hundred times harder to let it die than to let it live. This terrible thing!
My history of flower cultivation has ended here, so naturally I have never raised a flower. Who would have thought that after summer, a miracle happened.
In the early morning after a long rain, I pushed open the balcony door, and the egg-blue light and spring-like air came to my face. I feel a mass of dazzling things on the cactus. Is it Xia Guang? Is it the sun refracted by rain? I looked intently, what, is it a flower?
Yes, it's a flower, and it's an extremely beautiful flower, golden yellow, with twelve satin petals and sensitive and soft tassels covered with snowflake-like moist pollen. It stands still, but it shines like a palace. ...
This is the most beautiful flower I have ever seen!
At this moment, the cactus proudly holds it high. The wrinkles on the cactus are getting deeper and deeper. Yes, all it relies on is a handful of dirt. To produce such a magical golden flower, it must make all efforts.
In the face of this wrinkled cactus and its beautiful and splendid golden flower, I cried bitterly. I remember laughing at its ugliness unscrupulously, and I was deeply ashamed of my vulgarity.
As you can imagine, this cactus once had soft leaves and gentle and graceful branches. But in order to resist the oppression of the desert, it became cold and strong. After the desert swallowed countless beautiful flowers, we can still enjoy the beautiful golden flowers of cactus.
It is not only a quiet and beautiful flower, but its indomitable beauty makes the weak and the strong feel awe.
Once beauty is combined with tenacity, it can produce shocking power.
The second person named Fan Wen: Xiang Changcun.
Gently swaying catkins, like your flowing long hair; That shining star is like your bright eyes; A touch of Xia Hong that day is like your gentle lips; The light rain is like a daughter's endless yearning for your mother.
Mom, I became a good boy after you left. In memory of you, I became more diligent and cleaned the house; Put things in order; Polish the furniture. Everything is like what you once did for your family, as if you never left; You used to nag me about leaving things lying around, saying that girls had such bad habits and had to get rid of them. Every time I pout at you, I say I'm afraid of having a mother. You can't get rid of this bad habit while you are alive. You always depend on yourself. Now that you're gone, I actually got rid of this bad habit. Mom, how happy you will be to see me become such a good boy, won't you? I really hope you can hear me. I changed it in memory of you.
Mom, after you left, I cared more about my sister. In memory of you, I am as gentle to my sister as you were to her before. I often check my sister's homework and attendance. Don't worry, my sister is also very obedient. We are all grown up, and we don't always lose our temper as before. Always quarreling makes you upset. Maybe you don't know, even the nine aunts next door praised our two sisters for being obedient and sensible, saying that her two dog Eva should follow our example and stop fighting with her younger brother. Mom, did you hear that? In memory of you, I have become more like my sister.
Mom, I grew my hair for a long time after you left. In memory of you, I, your tomboy daughter, never had long hair, and decided to grow it, just like you did. Walking in the village, it is said that the child looks more like her mother. Mom, you used to blame me for cutting my hair so short, saying it didn't smell like a child at all, and let me have long hair. Anyway, I refused and kept saying that I would talk about it later. Now my hair is long, really long, but you are no longer around, but you can't see it. Mom, I hope you can see it. In memory of you, I have long hair.
Mom, after you left, the whole world became so strange that I was at a loss. I began to be independent and learned to do all kinds of work. I decorated my home, just like before you died, mom. You know, it's to better commemorate you. Your voice, your smile and your manners have been deeply imprinted on your daughter's heart. I would like to believe in the existence of the soul, so that you will know that your daughter has used these special ways to commemorate you.
Mom, you are always sweet to me, but my daughter can only do these little things to commemorate you. May my mother rest in peace.
The third person model essay: The bright moon is also lonely.
It's late at night, and the bright moon has crept up the treetops. The moon shines on a kitchen. There are only two little girls and two boys in the kitchen.
The older girl was cooking, another girl was helping, and the boy, sitting on the wooden stool, climbed up his dark face with a little anxiety and fear. When will mom and dad come back? He only wore a thin sweater, and the smell of autumn wind and distant vegetables went straight to his nostrils, itchy. The boy stood up and went to the kitchen. He seems to want to follow the trail and find the birthplace of fragrance, but every household is filled with fragrance, and "Ermao, come back for dinner ..." will appear from time to time. He was at a loss and thought that the voice was his mother calling him.
There must be Chang 'e and Yutu in the bright moon. They were abandoned! The boy stared at the moon in front of him for a long time
Loneliness is a thread that loneliness wears. If you are not careful, you will be captured by her.
The boy was dragged home by his second sister. Sister has already filled the rice. It's jiaozi, the kind that boys like best. When my mother is at home, she often cooks jiaozi for him and eats like a pig every time.
The boy looked at jiaozi in front of him, and tears had already accumulated in his eyes into a river. But he forced the moon to burst its banks. He settled down and sat down.
The two sisters have finished eating a bowl of rice, but his bowl of rice has not moved at all. The second sister went to persuade him, so he had to bite the bullet and eat the stuffing. Every bite was a chewy tear. Watching him eat, my sister turned back to the living room, because her heart was already intertwined. ...
My brother is asleep, my sisters are doing their homework quietly, and there is only a rustling sound in the room. Occasionally, the moonlight crept in quietly ... Yue Ming, are you lonely?
(adoption, adoption ~ ~)