Childhood memories 1 In the morning breeze, the morning sun gestates the walls, and a bright light is reflected on my window with shadows. Open your eyes, it's another summer morning, turn on the tape recorder. Or the song I never tire of listening to? One two three four five six seven, where is my friend? In Shanghai, in Nanjing, my friend is here. ? I've been listening for years. Remember this song firmly. Sometimes I think it would be more to my liking to change the lyrics. I am in the north, it should be in the ice city, in Wuhan. Speaking of Wuhan, I think of my old classmates and my good friends in my junior high school class. Speaking of her family, unfortunately, when she was just full moon, her mother and father quarreled for some reason. My father reached out and hit my mother. My mother drank a whole bottle of pesticide in a rage and died. Poor thing, she was brought up by her grandfather. I like to go to her house to play because her garden is very big. At the beginning of the garden, some beans, eggplant, green onions, persimmons, stars and mushrooms were planted. Flowers in the garden bloom around the wall every summer. Because grandpa likes planting flowers and grass very much. Very diligent! Grandpa will catch sparrows with a net in winter. Grandpa will shave the sparrows, open them and fry them for us. It is said that this is the best tonic for the brain. Although I felt a little miserable, the delicious food weakened my sadness. Instead, it was a full meal. Grandpa has a strong body. A person can carry a bag full of soybeans and walk as fast as a fly. I remember I admired my grandfather at that time. Grandpa has a blacksmith shop, just northwest of the yard, next to the gate. I remember it very clearly. My bike is missing a part, so I can't buy it. Grandpa hammered with a hammer. At that time, grandpa was always busy. Don't be idle for a moment. Maybe to make a living. Grandpa can write a good hand. I will practice writing brush whenever I have time. Sometimes they teach us to practice. If I remember correctly. Grandpa should be 8 1 year old now. We haven't seen each other since we graduated from junior high school. I seldom see grandpa. In 2000, my grandfather moved back to Gongzhuling, Jilin, and I never saw them again.
Yesterday in my dream, I met my classmates and went back to my school days. The same school, the same teaching building, the same playground, the same classroom. Even the same face, the same friendship. How many memories can I remember in this long time? I can't forget him in the past, and how many thoughts can be accommodated in the long river of memory. And I can always surpass him unconsciously. I only have her picture, not grandpa's. I don't know if it is because of my classmates that I deeply remember my grandfather. Or because of my grandfather's approachable personality and amiable kindness, I can't get rid of his figure in my memory. I don't know if his old man is here now. I don't know whether his old man is as healthy as before. I really want to see his father. But I have never had time, and I have been looking for opportunities in my heart. Looking for the last chance!
Childhood memory 800-word composition 2 Childhood is a hazy poem, an elegant painting and a classic song. I was naive, smart and lively in my childhood. When I was a child, I was imaginative, optimistic and cheerful.
The memory composition of childhood.
In those lost years, I was simple and happy. Needless to say, staring at the starry sky in a daze is leisurely, not to mention the comfort of sleeping in bed, not to mention the excitement of imitating shooting stars. Just smoking sorbet and watching cartoons wandering in the street can make me memorable.
In those lost years, I smelled a name? Love? Something. Maybe it's a scene where the teacher insists on giving us lessons despite illness; Maybe my mother brought me dryness and comfort in the rain; Maybe it was the scene where my classmates took the initiative to help me clean the classroom. What kind of scene touched my sensitive heartstrings is impossible to talk about. But one thing is certain, in? Maternal love? 、? Teacher love? 、? Friendly? Wait? Love? In the endless ocean, I raise the sail of hope and try to sail forward.
In those lost years, time flies like an arrow, leaving me alone on the island of memory. Are those shiny pearls what I look like when I giggle? Are the white seagulls and herons what I imagined? Are those tall trees what I looked like when I was a child? Pick up my missing petal gently, and I will make it a unique bookmark, making it fragrant forever in the world of words, forever.
I remember being willful when I was a child. Spoil. I like crying. It seems that I have grown up all at once, and many things have changed quietly.
From cheerfulness to indifference, from willfulness to eccentricity, from crying to firmness, I have experienced too much. Perhaps it is because of these experiences that I am sentimental now!
I remember when I was a child, I really wanted to hate someone, but unfortunately I couldn't. Want to hate my brother. Because he always bullies me, I always cry. But he will buy beef jerky to share with me, and all his hatred will go up in smoke. Want to hate Yingying. Because she would lie to me, and I was fooled. But I can't hate her smile. Maybe I was born without the ability to hate!
It's time for me to heal all the injuries on my way to growth; All the tears on the way to growth, time wiped away for me; All the fatigue on the way to growth, time is my dependence to relieve my time.
I remember a silly girl following that boy. I am that girl and that boy is my brother. When I was a child, I was most attached to my brother. The girl who looks like a dog's tail grass spent three children's days with her brother. Childhood is like a tomboy.
Finally, I no longer stick to anyone, because I know that everyone doesn't need me, and it is dispensable and even cumbersome.
When I grow up, I will still miss the little girl, the girl holding her mother's calf, the girl clinging to her brother, the silly girl who took away the love that belonged to her brother, the girl who likes to gossip on her brother's back, the girl who likes to show off her love with her partner, the girl who is so stupid that she wants her partner not to do her homework, the focus of the whole family and the proud princess.
Those are my memories. My family is not very rich, but it gives me memories like a princess. From today on, it's my turn to love you, and the deadline is my life.
Memories of childhood 800-word composition 3 Childhood memories are jujube trees in the yard. It blocks the hot sunshine in summer, and grandma drives away the heat and mosquitoes for us with her hands under the tree. Lying on the table doing homework, listening to the cicadas in the tree, my heart is very quiet. On the day of jujube, my sister and I huddled in the house and listened to the roof? Crack? Hail-like noise, licking your mouth, watching round dates jump all over the floor. When dad stopped shaking those branches. Hey? Jump out of the door and scramble to pick up the biggest and reddest fruit.
The memory of childhood is the clearing by the river, running like a happy child, laughing and chasing, crying after wrestling. There are also abandoned cement pipes, which are big enough to accommodate several people, and they bring wild grapes in, which has become the best place to play house and a secret base to hide after whispering or being wronged.
Childhood memories are the high steps on the street corner. Although they didn't pass over our heads, they jumped like frogs. No one is a coward among the shouts of boys.
Childhood memories are dark alleys at night, holding hands and numb scalp, walking carefully step by step with eyes closed, in my heart? Fluttering? Jumping around. Who played such a prank and suddenly screamed? Ghosts? They rushed out screaming one after another, and then gasped and laughed at each other.
Memories of childhood are hapless factories on the street. On holidays, there are rows of flowers at the gate, which are not only beautiful, but also beautiful enough to pinch home. So he smiled and looked into the darkness, sneaking under the wall one by one to avoid the eyes and ears of the gatekeeper. Everyone grabbed a few flowers, held their breath and grinned. Excitement and tension spread through every nerve. The boy is a scout. He has been here several times without an accident. The next day, everyone's windows were all colorful, but the outshine others at the factory gate really made us endure the heart of the day.
The memory of childhood is a wide road without pedestrians and vehicles under the starry sky, holding hands with my closest friends and spinning fast, singing in my mouth? Shall we paddle? . The happiness after dizziness is an unforgettable happiness bred by friendship.
The memory of childhood is the call of parents at dusk. ? Go home for dinner? Accompanied by the children's nicknames, they merged into a chorus and got into the ears of our runaway wild horses. This is the scariest thing we hear when we are crazy, but we are covered in muscles and intestines. Goo goo? The most beautiful song I hate and love.
Childhood memories? Cut? That day came to a resounding end, and the following days were no longer carefree, and pure happiness left me. I walked alone through that unfinished childhood in ignorance.
Memories of childhood 800-word composition 4 The stubborn rain is unstoppable, and the spherical raindrops fall hard on the hard land, like transparent crystals, so completely broken. Broken rain can never be pieced together, even if it is crystal, there are still deep and shallow cracks when it is pieced together.
Intermittent rain curtain seems to be intertwined with a childhood picture, which I haven't recalled for a long time, and each scene belongs to its own title and content.
Ignorance. ? Ignorance? Sometimes it is not a derogatory term, because children are ignorant and they know too little. My childhood was absolutely ignorant. I ask my mother why almost every day, such as? Why are you my mother? Why am I so small! Why are there stars in the sky? Mother always laughs and doesn't answer. Isn't it? Why bother writing new poems? Sadness. The world regards me as an ignorant person, maybe, maybe not. This is the nature of children. Children who are too mature will only be considered precocious, and children who are too deep will only lose themselves. If you are a child, you should be ignorant. There is no need to wrap a blank brain in a pretentious deep coat, just like putting beautiful satin on old skin. Roughness and smoothness are always mismatched poles.
Frank. As the name implies, I am sloppy and naive, and I always do things like this when I was a child. As soon as I saw someone's shoelace loose in front of me, I told him to tie it back quickly, instead of stepping on his shoelace to trip him up. As soon as I felt that the teacher's speech was wrong, I immediately pointed out that I insisted on my own point of view and completely ignored the teacher's face. I argued with him for half a class, but now I avoid the teacher's mistakes everywhere. Silence is golden? A policy of keeping everything you have to say to yourself. I miss the days when children were reckless and everyone didn't take your words seriously. You could do what you want without fear and say what you want, and others would think it was a mistake. If you make a mistake, others will go in one ear and out the other as if nothing had happened. That honest past, like a breeze, did not stop, even if it was beautiful, it would not leave traces of passing away.
Fantasy. Childhood is definitely an age of extreme fantasy, at least for me. Sometimes I will immerse myself in the world of my childhood and imagine myself living in an old castle full of Datura. The tall trees are heavy, the fruits in Huang Chengcheng are heavy, and the flowers in the yard are dancing in the sky. Although I am often frustrated by the dullness of reality, I am often involved in the next story. I used to look at the moon and feel like a huge pearl in the deep sea. It was discovered by the queen mother, so I put it in the sky forever, and I can clearly appreciate its softness and exquisiteness every night. Now, I only know that the moon is full of potholes, and sometimes it is compared to round-walled jade or sweet moon cakes to modify the boring writing. I don't know whether the rigid teaching plan strangled my imagination, or whether time flies and the aging of the years sealed my frivolous thoughts.
Simple. No matter from the spirit of thinking or the material life, children's requirements are very simple. I only know that there are good people and bad people, but I never know how to distinguish them. I only know how to eat healthy food, but I don't know how to make higher demands. My mind is in an extremely simple state. I don't understand what the heroes on TV love to death for, and why emperors of all ages would rather give up their country for beauty. I have to be ignorant here. I already know a lot. I think there are many things in Natural Love that many people think are not worth it. That's because I want to be simple, cover my clothes, eat my stomach and basically enjoy life. After all, there are so many people who try their best to get enough to eat and wear. Although I have no experience and don't understand life, the pursuit that is too simple to be pursued makes me feel that life is very easy. Childhood is always the most beautiful part of life, because it has no burden of desire and no ideal burden, just like those black and white photos, which have no color constraints, but forge simple classics.
There are so many childhood memories, with stubbornness into many unknown corners. The rain in June ended my childhood in a liquid way. I used words to pay homage to the last Children's Day in my life. Every June 1 day, I celebrate the festival that no longer belongs to me. However, those torrential rains will melt my only memory at any time ―― I don't want to, I don't want to, I don't want to grow up.
Postscript: I want to say goodbye to my last childhood with this article.