A year is a cycle of four seasons. Including the spring when flowers are in full bloom, the passionate summer, the autumn when crops are abundant, and the winter when snowflakes are flying. It is precisely because of these colorful seasons that our colorful world has been formed.
Colorful spring is the beginning of all seasons. Whenever the winter jasmine blooms, the swallows whisper spring, and spring slowly comes to the world. The little animals woke up, all kinds of beautiful flowers were in full bloom, and everything on the earth began to recover. Ah! I see vibrant colors!
Summer is coming, and it's red. Nothing can resist its enthusiasm, even cicadas should say thank you to it. However, only children can turn it into their own happiness and infect everyone in play.
Although autumn is not as enthusiastic as summer, it is the favorite season for farmers' uncles. The fruits of their year's labor can finally be harvested, watching the wheat wave to them in the breeze and watching the sorghum bow its head shyly? Looking at the fruits of a year's labor, I couldn't help laughing.
Although winter can't compare with the color of spring, the enthusiasm of summer and the joy of autumn, it is purer than any season. That snowflake fluttered with the wind, leaving the whole world with only white, but not monotonous.
I like this colorful season. Love their beauty, enthusiasm, happiness and purity.
One day, I opened the textbook because there was a question: What color is my world?
So I asked my father with this question: What color is the world? Dad thought about it and said, the world is blue, because there are blue sky and sea; I went to ask my mother again: What color is the world? Mother frowned and said that the world is green because there are flowers and trees; I asked my grandmother: What color is the world? Grandma said that the world is red because of people's enthusiasm.
So, I am confused by so many questions. Why do I ask so many people and get different answers? Later, I thought about it, so many colors together are not colors? It turns out that this is a colorful world.
Everyone knows that my grandmother is an old teacher with decades of teaching experience, but do you know? Now she is a new student. This little secret has been hidden in my heart for more than two months, and now I want to tell you. Shh! Don't tell anyone!
After retirement, my grandmother attended the university for the aged and studied calligraphy and poetry. Grandma studied calligraphy before, but she hasn't held a brush for a long time. Now she has to learn strokes from scratch. Grandma always reads copybooks for a long time before practicing calligraphy, while drawing on paper. Every time she finishes writing a word, she will compare it with the copybook, sometimes frowning, like blaming herself, and sometimes showing a satisfied smile. Grandma always asks us to comment on her works before each class, and she always accepts our suggestions with an open mind. Grandma is a cow and full of energy. If she encounters an unsatisfied stroke or character, she will practice it hundreds of times until she is satisfied.
Grandma doesn't simply recite a few Tang and Song poems, but writes her own poems according to the teacher's requirements. Grandma sits at her desk, sometimes thinking hard, sometimes? Pingping? Read aloud, and occasionally read "Poetry Rhyme". Every time this happens, I can't help sitting there worrying about her.
One day, grandma came home from school and was very happy. Before dinner, grandma can't wait to announce to us: Today, I made a poem, which was praised by the teacher. Let me read it to you. ? After that, she put down her chopsticks, took an exercise book, put on reading glasses and read proudly: it's as cold as day, and the key is to hear it at night. ? Grandma is flushed and excited like a pupil. I think: Grandma is never too old to learn and will always be a good teacher in my mind! ?
I hope grandma can learn something soon, and then I can tell this little secret to all my classmates and friends.
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