My mother's second grade composition 1 My mother is not tall, but she has a delicate face. There are two curved arch eyebrows embedded above the bright and clear eyes. The most distinctive thing is my mother's bright black hair, which is like a sleepless wave in the sea, churning with the wind and rippling with classical oriental beauty. There is a short ponytail on the back of the head and neat bangs on the forehead, revealing a bit of precious childlike innocence. There is a pair of gold-rimmed glasses on the ear, which is not like a teacher at all, but like a naive student.
But my mother is one of thousands of hard-working gardeners. She is a middle school math teacher. Maybe because of my professional habit, my mother likes reading with me. There must be two figures under the bright energy-saving lamp that is on every night. Whenever I bend over to do my homework, my mother sits beside me silently, correcting my homework and preparing lessons. It was so quiet that I didn't notice the person sitting next to me. In this way, mother has no time to do other leisure things. Whenever I hear other people's mothers watching Korean soap operas at home and soaking in mahjong tables, I often feel grateful. Of course, there is also some guilt: my mother gave up her entertainment for me, just to let me study with peace of mind. Whenever she writes late at night, her mother can't help falling asleep quietly on her desk. I secretly took a look, but I couldn't bear to disturb my mother's sleep, and I was afraid that my mother would catch cold. Finally, my mother fell asleep under my soft and hard foam. And I, the in the mind suddenly interrupted relaxed a lot, also at ease a lot. ...
I have been a slow eater and picky eater since I was a child. In order to make me eat fast, delicious and nutritious, my mother tries her best to cook new dishes every day. If the boss stole cooking lessons in "Going to the East" to make money, then my mother learned cooking lessons purely for my taste and health. Whenever my mother's colleagues invite her to dinner, she often goes to the kitchen to "help" the chefs, remembering their cooking order and ingredients, and asking them how to do it. When the chefs heard that the mother was not competing, but cooking a hearty meal for her son, they were willing to tell their secrets. Over the years, I have accumulated a lot. For example, my mother once made a "fried chicken leg": the tender and delicious chicken leg was wrapped under the golden crispy fried skin, and each piece of chicken had a unique spicy taste, which made me memorable. My mother has never tasted it, just watching and smiling with satisfaction.
In fact, my mother's concern and help for me is not limited to these. As a son, I express my gratitude to my mother through these two things, which should be regarded as the most satisfactory gift my son gave her on March 8 Women's Day!
On the second day of mom's composition 2, we agreed to ride the waves together and realize my dream together. We walked through spring, summer, autumn and winter together, crossed white hair together, wrote down frivolous things together, and sprinkled thick ink together.
Mom, I miss you. The moonlight shines on your head, and your hair is covered with a faint silvery white. I am stupid, but I am stupid. You are my favorite person, but I haven't found you turned by the axle of time for several weeks. I quit my job and go home, just like a flower falling from a branch, but this is not a heartless thing. It can be turned into the soil of spring and can also play a role in nurturing the next generation. Can I describe you as a fallen flower? You are the greatest woman of our time. I think of your face, sweet and fragrant. When flowers bloom, they are most precious, and when they wither. I still love you.
I have never told you that I love you, never spent too much time with you, and never worried about whether you care. I wanted to buy you a scarf in winter, but I forgot what I didn't know. You always said we didn't need too many explanations. I was relieved and turned around.
On the way home from dinner, bougainvillea bloomed on both sides of the road, and the wind gently blew into my heart, full of memories.
This is the flower of our family. It was taken away a few years ago. It witnessed the love between you and your father, the birth and growth of me, and the love of our mother and daughter. This is a memory of my childhood. I feel sad at the thought of it. However, how long has it been since we talked and went shopping together?
When I was a child, I always liked to ask you if it was my problem, how many books I read and how many people I asked, and I never thought about it.
After getting married and having children, my cousin is preoccupied with her daughter, even the slightest injury will make her nervous for a day. Were you like this when I was a kid? After my little hand was burned, you shook your hands, shed tears and kept blaming yourself. A few days ago, you looked at my scar and talked. Don't I like you? Just a little scar. I don't care anymore. Why do you keep saying that? But I don't understand, this is the pain in your heart forever. Mom, I'm sorry.
You try your best to meet my requirements, but you always get my indifference. You try your best to understand my favorite star. In my opinion, this is what a mother should do for her children. In fact, there is nothing to do or not to do, only she is willing or unwilling.
We are still friends, friends we can't get rid of in this life. If time goes back, will the fog at the exit of love disperse? Heart beating, warm dreams, colorful lights and catkins flying, your face under the moon is deeply imprinted in my heart. Look at the sun and the moon that day, silently: green mountains and rivers, stretching from generation to generation: just like in my heart, you have never changed!
Fireworks laugh, raindrops shake, my mother.
In my eyes, maternal love is a beacon to guide the lost ship and an oasis carefully prepared for travelers in the desert. Mother, who has been escorting her children all her life, asks for nothing in return.
In my childhood memory, what impressed me most was not her face, but her vague back.
That night, the moonlight drifted through the gaps in the pink curtains, refracting clouds of fog into a corner of the room. The bright and soft moonlight also fell on my bed bit by bit, hypnotizing my relaxed eyes and slowly seeping into my eyes. In recent days, because of work, my mother always goes out early and comes back late. I shook my head to sober myself up and waited for my mother's return in various rogue ways. The footsteps in the aisle broke my expectations bit by bit. Eyelids filled with lead, closed and closed. "Click" a slight door lock sounded, and I opened my eyes slightly. My mother was tired, but she still tiptoed in, quietly tucked me in, gently closed the curtains, sat in front of the computer and coded her paper word by word. The faint moonlight projected through the curtains hit her gaunt back, watching her work so hard for me, and with the abrupt keyboard tapping in the middle of the night, I went to sleep peacefully, but I didn't know that there were a few tears in my eyes.
A few months later, I finally survived this period, and the happy Spring Festival came to us. I sat in front of the TV and watched TV happily, watching my mother's busy back. On New Year's Day, my mother took my little hand and took me everywhere to visit my relatives. I followed my mother timidly, looking at her back, feeling extremely comfortable.
Inadvertently, when I saw my mother's back again, I was not the straight one in my memory. Instead, it is a slightly arched back. Sunrise turned into sunset. I still enjoy this sad scenery on the balcony, quietly watching it being swallowed up by the endless sunset, leaving only a rickety back. It was my childhood on my mother's back.
Behind every successful man, there is a great woman. Behind every successful child, there is a mother who puts up with hardships, supports you and loves you.
From a child's conduct, we can see the quality of parents. As the saying goes, "Like father, like son" is naturally wrong. It may be that parents are very good, but they ignore the education of their children's papers. It is also possible that the parents are not good, but the children worked hard and made a determined effort to succeed on their own.
It's not that I "sell melons to brag". I feel good because I have a good mother. If people think I'm not who I say I am, my mother is still so perfect. Generally, middle-aged women are poor in quality, just like some parents teach their children some ugly words, just like telling them they are wrong. But some naive and kind children can't learn because they can't lie.
My mother has been carefully teaching me not to lie, and even if I make mistakes, I will apologize to them. If I do something wrong, my mother will hit me, although I know that hitting me will hurt her. Therefore, I try not to do anything wrong, so as not to make her heartache.
Once, a girl accidentally kicked her mother's leg when she got off the bus, and the girl fell down. Obviously, the girl is very angry. Mom quickly apologized. Seeing her like this, the girl left without saying anything. Afterwards, I asked my mother why she had to apologize to him first. Obviously, she kicked your leg first. Mother told me that they were both at fault and should be tolerant.
This is my mother, the perfect mother in my eyes.
The sky is still blue, the river is still clear, like a trickle flowing through my window, there are bursts of fragrance in the distance, and I smell the fragrance.
I was a savage child when I was young. Always running around, but my mother is a follower and always accompanies me.
As a child. In the morning, my mother always holds my nose and shouts,' Get up, lazy boy, get up, the sun is shining on your ass. I still can't tell. My mother always comes up to me gently and caresses me,' Baby, it's time'. My mother mumbles while wearing my clothes. Although my mother stirred my dream, she gave me a beautiful reality. My mother always looks around at the crossroads at noon, and when I go home at night, my job has quietly arrived.
Because my father went out to work, my loving mother also served as strict father.
In elementary school. I made an appointment with my classmates to play. It was raining cats and dogs that day, and I was embarrassed to watch the weather. Suddenly, a familiar voice came from behind; Didn't you have an appointment to play with your classmates? What time is it now? Why are you still here? Let's go I refused,' Mom, don't go. It's raining so hard that they won't come.' You must keep your promise to others and keep your promise! My mother's words are soft, so I have to go. It turns out that they all waited for me voluntarily.
My mother is not only my strict father, but also my good friend.
I still remember the first monthly exam in junior high school, and such achievements and rankings were finally removed from the report card. I cried, but I didn't give up Because I have always been excellent, which proves that I am not bad.
But I want to hide this ranking, and I can't escape the opinions of teachers and parents after all.
At home, I took out a heavy report card from my schoolbag. I dare not speak for a long time. My mother looked at my red face and said; Baby, what are you thinking! "Mom saw it and took it away. Look carefully.
"Daughter, how so failed-"
My mother dug out the paper from my schoolbag, helped me analyze the reasons one by one, and encouraged me to laugh at the end to be the winner. Don't cry, laugh at setbacks, that is the real strong!
Mother is a beacon in the dark, illuminating my direction.
Well, everyone is a friend when you succeed, and only your mother is your partner when you fail.
After years of vicissitudes, wind and snow baptism-
Mom's wrinkles are deep, and I care.
My mother's old voice taught me to keep my promise first.
Mom's white hair has grown, and I've made progress!
Dear mom, thank you for everything. You always try your best to give me the best. Thank you for accompanying me all the way.
Love in this world, everything will be blowing in the wind, but there is only one thing it can't touch, see, but can feel, and that is maternal love. Sometimes, it is natural to see him busy for me, washing clothes and cooking for me, but when I grow up, I realize that everything is a thing of the past.
She is just an ordinary housewife. She doesn't look as elegant as others, nor as shabby as the poor. She just dresses naturally. Just like the lotus fairy coming out of the mud in the morning, but it is not ridiculous from a distance, but it is like the ghost of the night, which makes people feel timid at first glance. In fact, she is my mother-a strict and kind mother.
I failed in the exam. She didn't hit me like other people's mothers, but looked at me with a kind of eyes that hate iron and don't produce. As soon as I saw it, it was the sound that scared me. After a while, after he finished his work, he came over and sat in front of me, talking to me calmly. Say; Let me tell you a story. Once upon a time, in a village and a school, there were two very good brothers, one named A Qiang and the other named Asi. Xi studies well, and A Qiang plays all day. Six years later, I graduated from primary school and they entered a school. Three years later, junior high school passed, and Axi was admitted to a good school. A Qiang failed, so he dropped out of school. Twenty years later, Axi became a teacher at his alma mater. Although his professional title is not high, only more than 4 thousand, but he is very satisfied. A Qiang worked as a contractor in a place where he didn't want to leave the village. She earned more than 6,000 yuan a month ago, but she was still not satisfied. A year later, they met at the eastern end of the village. A Qiang asked Asi to follow him, but Asi refused. Three years later, Ashi received an invitation to A Qiang's funeral. This example tells us the importance of learning knowledge.
After listening to this short story, I understand the sentence "knowledge changes fate". I suddenly understood my mother's words. Yes, everyone's destination is death. Why don't we make the process more exciting?
In a word, maternal love is a gloomy lamp, which illuminates your heart when you walk through the alley.
Looking at her busy figure, I can't help feeling sad. Looking at her white hair, I can't help feeling sad.
Mom is very kind. She never quarrels with others. She is quiet, but she is always there when others are in trouble.
My mother loves me very much. When I was a child, I was very introverted and didn't talk much. My mother always changes her usual quiet image in front of me and makes me happy.
From kindergarten to primary school, there are more than a dozen teachers who teach me. The only hardest thing is my mother-she taught me not only knowledge education, but also life education.
I love cleanliness very much. My mother seems to be infected by me. She cleans once a day ―― actually, it's not necessary to clean so often, but my mother says she doesn't like being dirty. I know, my mother wants to make my study environment more comfortable. For my comfort, my mother is a little tired, because she is a little tired and has more white hair.
Looking back, how much energy my mother spent on me and how much she paid for me: when I was cold, a coat was quietly sent to me; When I am hungry, delicious food will be placed in front of me. When I am lonely and helpless, a word of encouragement will come to my ears. Think again, what did I do for my mother? Collecting clothes? Sweep the floor? Or back massage? Although I have done it, I can count the times.
Others say that people who have mothers are calm inside.
I often touch my mother's face with my hands. I want to erase the traces of years from my mother's face. My mother always laughs that I am a silly child.
I am a flower, and my mother will always be dirt. She cares about me and raises me.
mother ...
From primary school to junior high school, I have developed many good habits, and in the process of growing up, she has been teaching me, influencing me and making me grow into an upright and kind person-she is my dearest mother.
My mother didn't go to college, but she was generous and decent. She never uttered a dirty word, and I was influenced by her to some extent. After junior high school, my mother is going to study with me according to the school philosophy. She bought some books and a writing cloth to practice calligraphy, and began to study again at the age of forty. Mother's handwriting is very good. One day she sat up and began to practice. She was dressed in a beige household dress, with a few strands of dark brown broken hair on her forehead and a pair of small metal-rimmed glasses on her high nose, which looked simple and neat. Those big glasses that protrude slightly because of myopia seem to be young again, and they are looking intently at the strokes. The standard and smooth brushwork flows from those beautiful hands that work day and night-it is a poem "Looking at the Sea". My mother suddenly called me over and said like a student, "Xixi, do you think I can recite poems while practicing calligraphy?" Come and give me a general idea. After studying for so long, I forgot. "I thought it was a little funny, but I also carefully interpreted this poem for her. When I was sleeping at night, I suddenly heard her chanting "Jieshi sees the sea in the East" in the room, and I suddenly realized that I was a little ashamed.
In order to motivate me to exercise more and improve my physical fitness, my mother began to exercise often at night. She took out two foam boards, spread them on the floor, and asked me to do sit-ups with her. She did it with a gasp, and her face turned red. Seeing her sweating like rain, I am also motivated. Under the influence of my mother's example, I also grew up healthily. My mother, like a bright lamp, led me and became my mentor and friend in my growing years.
My mother not only attaches importance to my study, but also teaches me the philosophy of being a man. Last year, grandma fell and had to stay in bed for a long time, so she couldn't take care of herself. Every time I go home to see my grandmother, my mother will sit by her bed and chat with her. My confused grandmother gets along well with her mother. Once, I opened the door and saw my mother and aunt taking urine from my grandmother. The whole room was filled with a pungent smell. My brow wrinkled slightly, but my mother looked calm and took the urine and poured it out. No one complained. Not only that, my mother has a good relationship with her husband's family. She taught me to be filial and kind to others.
My mother is not only my loving mother and teacher, but also my close friend. Time has not worn away her kind and simple childlike innocence. Once, she actually bought a "HelloKittly" pink mobile phone case, which made me laugh. Usually, I not only talk to her about small things at school, or tell her about movies and books, or tell her about her troubles, and she will listen carefully. She smiled and stayed with me like a big sister, even if I didn't pay attention sometimes. But when I was confused and hurt, I turned around and looked back. She's still here. Give me warmth and listen to me.
This is my mother. May I gently kiss her dear face in her gentle arms, smooth the wrinkles between her eyebrows, love her with my heart and repay her-my dear mother.
My mother's composition in the second day of junior high school, 8 hours. I always make my mother angry, and then my mother scolded me, but I still don't know how to repent. This is how I spent my childhood.
When I was in junior high school, my mother stopped beating and scolding me, but I always felt something was missing. I finally figured it out on a summer afternoon when I was away all the year round.
It was a gloomy afternoon, and dazzling lightning danced on some bloated clouds. Pedestrians on the road all focused on this familiar place. "Why don't you finish school?" "Yes", "Hey" and "Nobody talks"; The teacher shouted in front, "Thunder" flashed across the sky, and raindrops crashed to the ground. "Well, today's class is here. Class is over. " "Goodbye, teacher!" I packed my schoolbag and came to the school gate. "Hey, I have to get wet again." Suddenly, I saw a familiar figure in the rain. "Isn't that your mother?" I saw my mother wearing a big red poncho. Suddenly, my foot slipped and fell into the mud. Mom, I finally rushed into the rain with my schoolbag on my back. I helped my mother up. "You boy, you don't call home." "Mom, I love you." "Ah, what did you say?" I just smiled and said nothing. So my mother took the umbrella and I helped her step by step.
When I got home, my mother took off her raincoat full of muddy water, revealing a wrinkled face, silvery white hair and muddy eyes. I rushed outside, the sky had cleared up, wiped away the tears on my face, forced out a smile and returned to the house.
Looking into the distant sky, the sky is still so blue.