Such a person is my model composition 1. Life is like a journey against the wind, and reeds sail.
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One hot summer afternoon, I sat on a cane chair, holding a book in my hand and touching the book by the window. The ears are full of noisy cicadas, but my heart has opened a quiet corner for this book. I can't help thinking of that day, the book and the old man.
It was the summer when I was six years old, my parents went out to study, and I was sent to my grandmother's house to live. Grandma's house is surrounded by mountains and rivers, which is the playful nature of a six-year-old child. That day, I excitedly got in my parents' car and came to my grandmother's country yard. Grandma went out to meet me in a plain white dress, and her mouth rippled and she laughed.
"Our core has grown so big, let's play." Say and gently walked back to the room and hid in the yard.
Although I am located in the country, there are few children near my grandmother's house. I spend most of my time with trees, flowers, animals, fish and insects. Grandma, on the other hand, is in her huge study almost all the time, accompanying the antique window lattice, the dense books on the bookshelf and the long-standing inkstone. Grandma at that time was completely different from usual. She put on a pair of silver-rimmed glasses, and a pair of chapped hands held a book of poetry, sometimes beaming, and sometimes tears filled her eyes.
Ten days later, I gradually began to feel bored, so I ran to the study and complained to my grandmother:
"Grandma, play with me!"
"No, you play. Old bones can't play, he still has to read books. " Grandma didn't turn her eyes, but still looked at the book in her hand.
I'm getting a little impatient. "Grandma, what are you reading at this age?" At this time, I suddenly found that grandma sitting in the corner of the door had snow on her head and frost on her temples. The knife of years left traces of time all over her.
Grandma's eyes stopped, but she didn't look angry. She just lowered her eyes and stood up and said, "I am old, but my greatest wish in my life is to be a scholar and a literate person." It's a pity that the older generation doesn't have such good conditions ... but it's not too late for me to regain my dream. No matter how poor you are, you should study ... ".
I was just shocked by the momentum of these words. Now that I think about it, isn't this what Song of Dust said: "What the heart wants is always the case. Life is like a trip, a reed sails. " Really? Although grandma is old, she can still run on the road of dreams, even if she walks through thorns and loses fresh clothes.
People like grandma are my role models, and I will look up to her all my life.
Such people are my role models. In midsummer, there are several unknown wild flowers in the street, clusters of which are full of fragrance, open happily and smell warm.
More warmly than this summer flower, the street after 5 pm, together with the boiling snack stall on the corner, is shouting, frying, buying and selling, laughing ... mixed with the hot summer days on the ground, roses are fermenting.
But she is not the same as other vendors, just quietly sorting out all kinds of sauces, frying cakes, and waiting quietly … greet every passerby with a simple smile, no matter whether that person buys her cake or not. Her indifference attracted me at once, and I approached the booth: "Boss, have a cake!" " "
"good!" As she answered, she bent down and took out a fist-sized dough, gently put it on the chopping board, squeezed it with both hands, and the dough was evenly kneaded to make a white cake in Zhang Yuanyuan. She put the cake in a flat-bottomed pot, and with a bang, the oil in the pot overflowed bit by bit, and the cake turned golden yellow bit by bit, mixed with a little black.
"Do you want shredded potatoes?" The voice is soft, like a mother lovingly asking her child.
"good!" I smile.
She skillfully grabbed a handful of shredded potatoes on the cake, added garlic, sprinkled a little chopped green onion, brushed a layer of hot sauce, quickly closed the cake, skillfully put the cake in a paper bag prepared by the other hand and handed it to me with a smile. When I was ready to leave after paying the money, a gentle word came from my ear: "Don't burn yourself." That kind of persuasion suddenly penetrated into my heart, so soft. ...
Later, I deliberately crossed the street often and gradually got to know her. She also took the initiative to talk to me about her parents' problems ... I know that she also has a son my age who studies with the money she sells cakes, and her children especially like to eat the cakes she makes. ...
Once, when I walked into the street, she saw me from a distance and waved to me. When I approached, she still showed a clear and shallow smile: "I'm going to close the stall today." My son passed the exam. Take this cake and eat it! " "
I instinctively prepared to shirk, only to see her eager and proud face, and the words were swallowed by her. Who has the heart to shirk such a simple and kind gift, and who can refuse to share the little happiness of such an ordinary mother?
I am holding a cake, and my hands are warm. I watched her push the car and limp, leaning to one side with each step, smiling at me as she walked, and the smile was still as bright as a warm blooming flower. ...
It turns out that she actually ...
She hides the pain of life in her heart and shows her bright smile to others. I picked up the cake and inhaled its fragrance, which is the fragrance of life. ...
Such people are my role models!