Gray days, pulled down the night. Open the curtain, occasionally, I notice that the light by the window is still on, on … ~

When I asked my mother, I realized that there was only one grandfather who was nearly sixty years old. He always studies tirelessly and often stays up late.

I seem to have learned a lot from a visit. Grandpa, you are proficient in everything. He often tells me that it is always worthwhile to endure a few years in a cold window. Before you know it, you will gain knowledge, friendship and trust. From grandpa's simple words, I felt an ordinary old man's feeling and understanding of life, and more personally realized his concern and help for a strange girl. In the process of getting along with him, from what he did, I learned to care, be kind, give and share ... ~ The old man is childless and alone. The love he left me, the persistence and the love of learning are all unreserved. If the moonlight is elegant and bright, like endless spring breeze, like sweet and intoxicating green tea, it will penetrate into my heart in detail.

It was a long time before I knew. The old man died a few years ago. In the middle of the night, that bright lamp still lit for me, telling me to persist and be brave. My tears, wandering in my eyes, slipped unconsciously. Growing up under the encouragement and spur of the old man, I never thought that one day he would leave.

Originally, the lamp. Reveal his thirst for knowledge. After that, the lights. Explain his definition of care.

Late at night, I closed my book and was about to turn off the lights. Suddenly I saw the bright light outside the window, and I opened the book again, immersed in a world full of books. Suddenly, I looked at the light that would never be the only light in the middle of the night. Isn't the light full of love overflowing my heart again and again?

light

It was late at the cram school, so I walked home alone.

It was a quiet path, and occasionally a few pedestrians hurried by.

(1) cold yue

I walked quietly. There is a lush tree in front of me, with dense branches and green leaves. I suddenly found that there was light seeping through the gap between the leaves.

I was surprised and looked up. A crescent moon hangs quietly in the sky, bright and flawless, with a faint silver light.

Thinking, why is the light of the moon so weak? Without the passion of the sun, not to mention the biting snowstorm, we are left with a tepid image, mixed with pallor, which makes people wonder if the moon is shining.

And why are so many literati not stingy with their literary talent and write immortal poems for her? Su Dongpo sighed under the moon: people have joys and sorrows, and the moon is full of rain and shine. "Sister Lin and Miss Shi also said: Cross the crane to shadow the cold pond, and Leng Yue buries the flower soul." Why?

Perhaps, everything is illusory … I even wonder what benefits the moonlight has given people to praise her so generously. This world is really incredible.

I was cold in the shadow of the moonlight. Everything is lifeless.

(b) light-warm light

Suddenly, the roadside lights came on! Around, completely lit up! The moonlight doesn't know where to look.

The orange light seems to overflow, gently covering my whole body and warming me.

Only when the light really shines on everyone, moonlight can't play any role at all! How many passers-by going home late at night need lights? How many lost children need light to comfort them?

Light, this warm light! She looked at us quietly and gave us warmth.

I suddenly felt a sense of security under the colorful street lights.

(3) the charm of the night

There was a slight noise overhead, and suddenly I heard a bang. It was dark all around, and the street lamp went out for some reason!

I can't help falling into panic and darkness.

Suddenly, I found a beam of white light ahead, as if trying to lead me forward. I looked up and it was the moonlight that helped me. I froze. ...

I walked along the moonlight, and my uneasy heart was finally comforted.

In fact, only the moon is the real lamp! Although her light is weak, she is neither humble nor supercilious. She won't stop lighting for some reason! She used her persistence to give the poet a reason to praise her. ...

Yes, the charm of the night! Charm in the dim moonlight? Don't! Charmed by her selflessness! Her light is a little weak and cold, but she can lead the lost people forward. Her light may not be as bright as a street lamp, but she guards the whole world with a faint light. ...

The moon is a lamp that never goes out.

I stood in the soft and natural moonlight, the cold faded a little, and the warmth gradually surrounded me!