No matter in study, work or life, everyone has the experience of writing a composition, so you are familiar with it. Writing a composition can exercise our habit of being alone, calm our mind and think about our future direction. So, how to write a composition? The following is an 800-word composition collected by Bian Xiao on that warm day, for reference only. Let's have a look.
On that warm day, the composition was 800 words, 1.
Memories slowly fade away with the hourglass of time. Those colorful memories have gradually faded and lost their original colors, but those days have always warmed me.
Back then, we were in the third grade of primary school, and you and I had been friends for six years. Since you were three years old, you have shared the ups and downs of growing up with me.
I still remember that in the third grade, I went to Gaoxin No.1 Primary School, and you transferred there, where we studied together and had a happy time. But for various reasons, I was forced to transfer to Jinger Road Primary School. Since then, I have never been with you after school. From then on, I will never see your innocent smiling face every day. We can only meet occasionally on weekends or during swimming competitions.
Looking back at that time, we took part in the swimming competition in Yulin, and it was time for us to play. That's the 200m backstroke. I'm very nervous. In order to cheer me up, you privately left the team and squeezed out the crowd to give me a big hug and told me, "Don't be nervous, I know you are the best. Come on! " Although this is only a short sentence, I know that this sentence contains too much affection, and I am instantly wrapped in the love and warmth of friendship. That sentence seems to have magical power, which fills me with infinite energy. At the end of the game, I won a silver medal. You are more excited than me. This is the result of our joint efforts.
After the game, the parents of teammates organized an interesting tour on the spot, and we came to the Ordos prairie together. That time of only 7 days has warmed me for a long time, and that warmth has been up to now.
During the day, we ride horses together and run on the green grassland. We are so free and happy. We get up early together, sit on the threshold to watch the sunrise, sit on the lawn to watch the sunset and feel the afterglow of the sunset. We left laughter and happiness on this grassland and let the flowers of friendship bloom here.
After graduating from primary school, you got good grades and got into Xi 'an High-tech No.1 Middle School. In such a busy study, you will video with me every Saturday. Although we can only see each other in the video, our friendship is so deep and sweet. In order to help me improve my academic performance, you will send me the review materials of your school. On my birthday, you will give me gifts and good wishes. When I am wronged or frustrated, you will enlighten me and encourage me.
Now our friendship has been 10 years. Although we can only have a short video once a week, I will never forget those warm days, which are our good memories together.
On that warm day, the composition was 800 words 2.
On that warm day, when I look back, I can meet the bright and warm sun!
Notes before the text of a book or after the title of an article.
I don't know when the sun shone into the room. Outside the window, against the blue sky, several birds are chirping and playing. I calmed down for a while and went outside nervously. Today, I will have an important exam-junior high school entrance exam.
Gee, no, what seems to be missing? Walking out of the unit door, I saw Grandpa Huang downstairs doing Tai Chi exercises with great interest, and the mini speaker he carried with him remained silent. Without Tai Chi music to wake me up, I'm not used to it: "Grandpa Huang, this stereo" "If it isn't your junior high school student! Have a good sleep and have a good exam. " Grandpa Huang stopped moving and smiled and gave him a weather-beaten thumb like me. I feel warm in my heart, as if something had melted.
Grandpa Huang's words are the most beautiful music, driving away the confusion and darkness and leaving a warm mark.
Further on, I saw people and things with the same scenery. In the sunshine, grandma sat on a bamboo chair in front of an earthenware stove that had gone through many years. Grandma gently waved the cattail leaf fan, and the air was filled with the smell of traditional Chinese medicine. I gently took a sip of the medicinal incense and couldn't help feeling: how many days and nights this smell has accompanied me! Grandma has found me standing by and dragged me to sit down beside her: "Nizi is in junior high school today?" I nodded gently. "Be careful during the exam, don't be careless. Come back with a good ranking and show it to those gossip men! Who said that women are not as good as men! " Say that finish, grandma waved with a cattail leaf fan, and the white fog dispersed, making way for me. I took a few steps and looked back. My grandmother holds a cattail leaf fan in her hand, just like a work of art polished by time, and the wrinkles are full of light.
Grandma's cattail leaf fan is a small sun that points out the way for me and brings me light and warmth.
The familiar scenes of walking out of the community gate, taking the bus and going to school were suddenly engraved with different meanings. That's the expectation for the future, that's the brightest warm sun.
In a trance, the shoulder has been patted: "Hey, what are you thinking?" Do well in the exam today, and don't get stage fright! "I turned around and was the monitor of the primary school.
I smiled. Yes, why should I be afraid? In those warm days, I gained a lot from the encouragement of my relatives, the concern of my neighbors and the concern of my classmates. Why are you afraid of exams?
When the school arrived, I walked towards a warmer future with those people.
On that warm day, the composition was 800 words 3
Time is relentless, day and night. In a blink of an eye, bid farewell to primary school and set foot on junior high school. Although I left my primary school classmates, I will always remember that warm day.
It was in the fourth grade that I transferred from my hometown primary school to this primary school. At that time, everyone was so strange to me I sat in my seat under the gaze of my classmates, with my face red and my head down. I didn't expect my classmates to communicate around me after class, as if they were old friends. This familiar feeling made me adapt to the new environment quickly and eliminated all my scruples. I quickly integrated into this United and friendly group.
We are familiar with each other, and communication is also "goodbye!"
In the sixth grade, you transferred to our class. I am recognized as a "good student", but you are a little naughty. But fate brought us together, and in full view, we became an enviable pair of inseparable friends. I am unhappy. I always like to stand by the window alone and stare at the lonely blue sky. But you always come to me with a smiling face, pat me on the head and melt me in a happy atmosphere. You will make me laugh, make me happy, make me happy. Gradually, I became cheerful, I was no longer lonely, and I was no longer out of place like a caterpillar breaking into the butterfly's territory. For the first time in my life, a cheerful melody appeared. I know that you are the eternal pistachio in my life.
But there will always be unpleasant days in life, and the sunshine will always be broken.
I took part in the 800-meter race at school. Standing on the track, I was not only excited, but also a little anxious and nervous. At this time, you are like "timely rain", patting my head, smiling and gently saying, Come on! I'm sorry if I lose! I smiled, calmed down and nodded. With a gunshot, six athletes flew out like arrows. I followed them closely, gritted my teeth and walked slowly past a few people. In this way, two laps have passed, and my physical strength is slightly exhausted. Suddenly, I heard you shouting in my ear-come on! I tried to adjust my breathing, and I followed the second place. Finally, on the last lap, my breathing became rapid and my speed slowed down. In an instant, the word "give up" appeared in my mind. While I was in a trance, my eyes fell on yours. I saw a man without perseverance and confidence. Is this me? Seeing your smile and thinking of your crying, I paused and took out 120% confidence and courage. I strode to the finish line. I know that you are the eternal faith in my life.
In those warm days, we laughed, cried and were tired, but we never abandoned them.
In the sand of time, we can only turn back, but we can't.
On that warm day, the composition was 800 words.
Looking back and staring, in those deep and shallow footprints, each one is filled with the temperature of maternal love. It was once warmer than my life, swaying with touching amorous feelings, and decorating my world with colorful flowers ―― Inscription: When I was a child, growth was a clear flute, and maternal love was the most beautiful note in the flute. One night, I aimed at a pot of goldfish at home. "Such a beautiful little fish would be even more beautiful if it was bathed," she thought, extending her little hand to the most beautiful red goldfish. At this time, my mother came in from the outside and asked me with a smile, "Baby, what are you doing?" "Mom, I think it's really clean that you bathe the puppy. I also want to bathe the small fish." Mother's smile deepened, and she gently took me into her arms: "son, the puppy needs to take a bath regularly when its hair is dirty, but what about the small fish?" They swim around in clean water, so how do they take a bath?
If you bathe like a puppy, you will kill them. After a pause, my mother went on to say, "son, you must think carefully before you do anything." I believe my baby must be the smartest, right? "I put my head close to my mother's warm embrace, and I tried to light my head. In my childhood footprints, there is a flute slowly flowing with maternal love, melodious and tactfully. As a teenager, growth is a clear pastoral poem, and maternal love is the most touching chapter in this poem. After an exam, I looked at the "99" score on the Chinese paper and showed it to my mother happily. Mother's face suddenly became serious when she saw the bright red cross. " Son, can't you really write the word "carefree" in "Seeing Nanshan leisurely"? It's not serious. Did you write it carelessly? "When I heard it was sloppy, my mother said with a heavy heart," My child, you must not be sloppy in your studies. My mother doesn't always ask you to be the first in the exam, but it would be a pity if you lose points because of carelessness. "Looking up at my mother, from her stern eyes, I read a mother's expectation and love for her children." Don't worry, mom, I'll be serious in the future. "
Facing my mother's eyes, I said firmly. At this time, a familiar smile bloomed on my mother's face. In the footsteps of teenagers, the most sincere love for children is reflected in the stern eyes of mothers. It is free from dust, ethereal and refined, like a faint orchid floating in a valley, elegant, clean and pleasant. Now grown up, like the smoky wind in late April, the intoxicating fragrance of maternal love. My mother's encouraging eyes when I was successful, my mother's concern when I was frustrated, a coat my mother gently handed me when it was windy, and a cup of herbal tea my mother gave me when it was hot. Because of my maternal love, the scenery along the way is so beautiful and infinite.
The breeze is warm, the green willows are shaded, and the warm sunshine shines on the face through the dense leaves. That warm day was simple but beautiful.
Children's innocent laughter came from outside the window, as clear as a silver bell. Their happy smiles are like bright flowers blooming against the sun. In those days, I was one of them.
Time flies and everything seems as clear as yesterday.
I still remember that snow covered the earth and everything was stained with silver. In that bleak season, when everything is asleep, we still have endless fun.
The glittering and translucent snowflake danced like a noble white butterfly, whirled with the wind, danced a beautiful waltz and landed lightly on the street corner and eaves. Quietly, the world changed and appeared in front of us. The street was quiet, no one was there, only we chased and played tirelessly in the snow. When the snow is light, we always divide into groups of three or two, each with a few snowballs, big or small, and attack when they are unprepared. The partners of China Merchants were extremely angry, while we cheered for the success of the sneak attack. When the snow is heavy, we will get together and make a snowman. Two round snowballs are stacked together to form the main body of the snowman. I don't know who found two shiny black buttons for his eyes, or who found two dead branches for his arms, or who stole carrots from home and put them on his nose while his mother was not looking. In short, a grotesque snowman is finished. The snowman looked at us with a smile, and we looked at it with a smile.
Sometimes, a childish little game once made us happy for a whole afternoon. We are always scrambling to find the "precious" dandelion. Whenever someone finds it first, they will shout excitedly to attract everyone to get together. The little dandelion looked embarrassed under everyone's gaze, shaking its petite body slightly, and its white fluff made people fondle it. I don't know who couldn't hold his temper, pursed his mouth and blew a mouthful at dandelion, and the soft fluff immediately spread out, like light catkins floating in the wind, shining especially in the sun. We stood in the same place for a long time, and our eyes extended into the distance with the little dandelion. It carries our childish fantasies. The warmth in the sun has never been forgotten.
Once on a windless night, we lay comfortably on the grass, looked at the stars all over the sky, blinked and sang our favorite songs softly. The tender voice echoed in the quiet night sky, crossed the lost years, and clearly echoed in my ears again. Inadvertently, the corners of the mouth raised a knowing smile.
That warm day, simple but beautiful, was engraved in the softest place in my heart and will never be forgotten.
On that warm day, the composition was 800 words 6.
Love surrounds me like a flood, and endless nostalgia can't help but come to mind.
-inscription
Ancient and modern, Chinese and foreign, how many literati praised the greatness of maternal love countless times, because it is selfless and makes people cry. And my mother can't be ordinary, but because of her, those days were a little warm.
The mid-term exam will be held in a few days. Sitting at my desk, I just mentioned the pen and remembered it again. I can't help feeling a little more depressed and depressed. It's late at night and people are very quiet. Occasionally, a few birds fly by, chirping their companions. They have already lost the excitement and noise of the day, and the white light shines on the textbooks. At this time, although I had finished my homework, I was still preparing for the mid-term exam. My mother has finished washing and came to the study, ready to fight a protracted war with me. Over time, sleepiness and disgust came to my mind together, which made me feel messy. Confused, my mother seemed to understand my mood, her mouth slowly tilted, she shook her head helplessly, patted me on the shoulder, showed a slight smile, and asked distressfully, "Tired, I will accompany you, ok?" The fire in my heart has never been suppressed. I threw my pen on the table and complained to my mother, "Are you bored? You don't let people review. I have too many brains. I don't need your walnuts to waste money?" This sentence seems to hurt my mother's heart, but I blurted it out casually. My mother shook her head helplessly and turned away.
I continue to review, but in the process, I always hear something rubbing in my ear. I know it's from my mother, but whenever I turn around, my mother always hides her hand, so I have to bury myself in reviewing. Occasionally, I looked back and saw my mother hunched, bent, with her head down, frowning, her teeth clenched, her mouth tilted to one side, and her hands folded up and down. There is a hard and big walnut between two thumbs and forefinger. My mother seems to have really tried her best to breastfeed me this time. I've never seen her like this, and I can't help feeling guilty and self-reproach when I think about the attitude I just spoke to him.
By the time I washed and went to bed, my mother had put the chopped walnuts on the bedside table, looked at them for a while, lost in thought, picked one up and put it in her mouth, savoring the sweetness, and a trace of warmth could not help but come to mind.
Endless warmth comes to mind, and endless nostalgia lingers, because those days with you are warm and sweet.
On that warm day, the composition was 800 words 7.
Take home as the altar, make wine with love, ferment with love, and the aged fragrance floats in the heart.
That year, the wind kissed Huai Rui, which was midsummer.
The night in Pinellia ternata season is always spent in the field. There is a small bed under the locust tree. Show me the moon and count the stars. I remember once, you smiled and asked me a question before I was five years old: "Shanshan, what do you think the sky is like?" My two little hands scratched on my head. "It's a roof, a big one." As a Christian, you smiled and said to me; "Well, it's God's blackboard, which is full of dreams." I'm lying in your arms, listening to the fairy tales you told me, and sleeping quietly, quietly and comfortably at the night when Sophora japonica is fragrant.
The field is full of flowers, and Sophora japonica falls in the jar one by one. Taking home as the altar, making wine with emotion, and the fragrance and taste of the wine are the lightness and elegance of this blind Sophora japonica wine.
That year, the wind blew chrysanthemum petals, and it was already late autumn.
Your garden is beautiful, and the vegetables you grow are neat and real, like embroidery. One needle pricks a rape, and the other needle pricks a yellow flower. It's embroidered ―― it's a beautiful Xiang embroidery. Walking on the border, I never help you pick vegetables. Sometimes when I'm in a good mood, I just wave my hand and the leaves rise with the wind. When you saw me, I was leaving. I don't want to. I'm stuck in the wall and I'm not going. Leaning in your arms, snow-white hair covered with faint sunshine, squinting and laughing: "Shanshan, you can't spoil the vegetables in the garden." At that moment, every sweet air in the small garden was filled with deep love and warmth.
The vegetable field is green, the chrysanthemum is filiform and falls in the jar. Taking home as the altar, making wine with emotion, the fragrance of wine bursts, and the taste is the passion of this chrysanthemum wine.
That year, the wind shook the plum branches, which was in the middle of winter.
There are plum blossoms in the yard, which are beautiful and the whole family is proud of them. The sound of firecrackers resounded throughout the yard, and friends and relatives gathered together. You smilingly took the children's hands and went to the backyard to dig snow and get wine. We can't carry the heavy jar naturally, but you always prepare the jar carefully for the children. Compared with now, children like to drink coke, but at that time, we were just thinking about your "Mei Huajiu". Our Mei Huajiu is different from that of adults. Their wine is more mellow and stronger, so we children can't drink it naturally. Our wine is more fragrant and sweeter, and there are more rock sugar than adults.
Snowflakes are fluttering, and plum blossoms are falling. Taking home as the altar and making wine with emotion, the wine is mellow and tasty, which is the gorgeous vitality of Mei Huajiu blindly.
Under the locust tree, next to the chrysanthemum branches and in front of the plum branches, we make wine with emotion at home.
The farthest place in memory is always your refreshing bouquet.
Grandma, I want to know, are you also recalling the past?
Next year, I will accompany you there for a drink!
Write 800 words on that warm day.
"There is no doubt about mountains and rivers", then I think it can also produce extraordinary warmth in pain and despair. Sitting alone at my desk, recalling the past, tears blurred my eyes, and that warm day is still unforgettable. Thinking of this, my thoughts flew back to last winter with Tagore's Jade Bird.
With a loud noise, I fell on the cold concrete floor, feeling very cold, as if I had fallen into an ice cave. My left leg collapsed on the ground and I couldn't move. After a long struggle, I lay quietly in the hospital bed. At this time, the doctor took out the radiograph and concluded that my left femur was fractured. I trembled with fear when I heard the bad news. Can only accept the "baptism" of surgery. When I came out of the operating room, the wound was painful and the pinholes on the back of my hand were as dense as ants. After many days, I was finally carried on a stretcher and lay at home.
I lay helpless in bed, the window was gray and seemed lifeless. The birds that used to sing on the branches of green leaves and red flowers seem to be gone. I seem to have fallen into a dark abyss. I get angry for a while when I get up every day, and then I pick up my mobile phone and play day and night. But my mother never complained. She washes my face day after day and tries her best to supplement my nutrition. It used to be full of black silk, but now it has become light silver silk. For me, she would rather stay up late and turn over for me. But at that time, I didn't appreciate it at all. Throw things about mercilessly. But my mother picked it up for me without saying a word. Until one day, my mother said to me, "From now on, we will also study at home!" " "At first, I was very negative about this research. But my mother patiently explained again and again, and I finally got in, which made me feel enlightened. I gradually put down the electronic products, and every morning is very calm. My mother pulled me out of the abyss of despair and gave me light and warmth.
On this day, the weather was just right and the breeze was not dry. My mother took me out for a walk in a wheelchair. Waves of warm spring breeze blow into my heart, and wisps of warm sunshine warm my heart. And the great and strong mother in front of me is more like a bright sun, emitting a little sunshine and nourishing my heart. I am like a seedling, reborn under the sunshine. I can't help crying at the thought of this, but my heart is warm.
Yes, in the extremely dim reality, the warmth of maternal love illuminates my way forward. On this warm day, I quietly put it in my heart, savoring a little warm current, and my heart is as sweet and warm as honey.
On that warm day, the composition was 800 words and 9 words.