In the comprehensive evaluation of junior high school, there is a requirement that each student complete 24 hours of public welfare work in one semester. There are many public opinions in the society that this has greatly increased the burden on students! I brought you the following. This is a mature and excellent composition. I hope I can help you.
This is what maturity looks like. Excellent composition 1 Yu Xu
Life is like a long exercise. Some people, like travelers in the past, follow the guidance of others. Although their purpose is clear, they have also lost their own spirit, while some people calm down and concentrate on practicing and guard their childlike innocence. In endless memory, only one kind of touch is eternal. It was my first trip to Tibet and I started my pilgrimage.
In the past memory, Tibet is different from the enthusiastic Hainan. It is lonely, with a mysterious veil. This veil is sacred. Every passenger must be in awe when he arrives, and dare not open it at will. This veil was brought to it by the Buddhist temple. It is like a Buddha statue that has gone through the world, beating a wooden stick and playing a song of life for us, waiting for us to explore.
This time we followed the tour group into Tibet's humanities and came to the Buddhist temple in the mountains. As soon as the Buddhist temple entered, it was full of solemnity. The giant Buddha statue stands in front of us, waiting for the monks to have morning classes. Monks walked into the temple hand in hand and held a ceremony. They sat in front of the Buddhist temple, reading scriptures that we didn't understand, and closing their eyes as if we no longer existed. They paid tribute to the Buddha statues in another world.
I was stunned by what I saw. I don't understand why they can stand boring life. They lived in a humble temple and read boring scriptures. To this end, we deliberately stayed in a temple to learn about their day.
After the morning, they began a day's life. After class, they looked at the leisurely cats and fish in the temple. They didn't raise their hands to touch and tease like us, but bowed their heads to feed them, as if they had a fascination with life in their hearts. I just watched quietly, and the more I watched, the more curious I became.
This Buddhist temple, the flow of years, mottled the door; The passage of time darkens the red paint; The internal training faded away from the prosperity of the past and achieved this scene. I asked the oldest yogi here how he endured the life here, and his answer made me feel as if I was hit hard by my heart: "True love is not to endure, but to enjoy. Anyone who doesn't understand our life is a person with desire; I want to pursue too many things and lose my way. If you are firm in your heart, you will go forward bravely. "
Monks in Buddhist temples devote themselves to pilgrimage. From that moment on, I understood that the meaning of life lies in love and concentration. When a person is mature, he will know what he wants, know the world instead of the world, guard his inner "Buddha statue", move towards the road of life, and be the helm of his life.
This is what maturity looks like. Excellent composition 2 Lin Jiajing
Only bloody hands can pop up the world's swan song! Tagore
The brilliance of meteors comes from the friction of celestial bodies, the brilliance of pearls and the tears of shells. Frustration is a landscape on the road of life. Only after experiencing setbacks can we become stronger and more mature!
When I was a child, my grandmother was absorbed in embroidery by the window. I saw her sandy jade finger, gently twisting and tracing, sewing back and forth, like a fairy descending to earth. The needle and thread are like Iraqis and Youlong. People can't help but think that "the thin shadow curtain is opposite to the embroidered screen, and the mandarin duck is afraid that the needle will stop", which is beautiful.
The beauty of embroidery makes me yearn for it, and I beg my grandmother to teach me. Grandma agreed at once. I started with the most basic threading. My grandmother taught me to take a sip of the thread in my mouth, twist my finger, then aim at the eye of a needle and go straight ahead. But I wear it back and forth, but every time I just pass by. It's still useless for me to toss and turn. I was so angry that I left my needle and thread behind and casually said, "What the hell, I can't wear it at all, I won't wear it!" " "Grandma looked at me angrily and couldn't help laughing." I knew you were a rabbit. It must be a whim. It's been hot for three minutes, and you are knocked down by such a small setback. You are all adults, and you are as naive as children. "
Unwilling to fail, with grandma's encouragement, I left my childishness behind to pick up my maturity and continue to embroider. I managed to get through the needle.
Then I began to learn embroidery. I want to fly the needle and dance the line. I am as clever as a fairy, but I can do whatever I want, and setbacks and difficulties follow. Accidentally, my finger was pricked by a needle, and my blood was bleeding. I screamed "Ah" and big beads of sweat rolled down my face. I looked at my grandmother piteously: "I'm so angry that I don't embroider, which is a waste of time." Grandma frowned and looked serious. "My words went in one ear and out the other. Don't be childish. Plum blossom fragrance is not cold, how can it be fragrant? " My heart trembled when she held out her scarred palm. It turns out that the most beautiful embroidery always blooms bright flowers against the dim background, and the most brilliant achievements are always produced in hard struggle. It's amazing. Grandma has different skills!
Looking back, I asked myself, "Since I chose a distant place, I only care about hardships. Since I have a dream, I also choose to realize it. So don't think about what difficulties and obstacles I will encounter in the future, just try my best to do what I should do. I want to climb the peak bravely like an adult.
I kept shouting to myself, "You can do it!" And start the needle again, and the morale is high. Even if there are countless failures and countless "disappointments" in the process, I will get up again and move forward firmly! I think this is the mature look!
This is what maturity looks like. Excellent composition 3 Wang Jin Woo
The autumn evening breeze came slowly, and I walked on the path of people coming and going, and people coming and going were full of comfort. When I saw the little lanterns in the children's hands and looked up at the full moon on the horizon, I was shocked. Today is the Mid-Autumn Festival.
It's getting late, and every household is cooking delicious food. I walked into the house and saw my grandfather making moon cakes. He makes moon cakes every Mid-Autumn Festival. His rough and generous hands pressed against the dough and rubbed it hard. I muttered in my heart and couldn't help shouting, "Why do you make moon cakes yourself every year?" What I bought outside is delicious, too! Red bean moon cakes are not eaten fresh every year. "
Although I was not satisfied with my mouth, I leaned over and saw grandpa take out a mold for pressing moon cakes, which looked very delicate. He pressed the mold on the smooth dough, and his two big hands were stacked on the mold, which seemed to exhaust his whole body's strength. At this time, I realized that making moon cakes is not a trivial matter!
Soon, the moon cakes will be baked. When the moon cake was taken out, the hot air in the box came out together, like a strong wind blowing from a distance, but the footsteps were gentle. As the airflow dissipated, every inch of my skin felt this fanatical gas. Like a fire in the cold winter, and like a smoky wind blowing from a distance. Invisible and warm.
By this time, I was so hungry that I quickly stuffed a moon cake filled with red beans into my mouth. Without hot air, my mouth had the fragrance of red bean paste and the soft and delicate connotation. My eyes turn from dark to bright, and the wonderful taste blooms in my taste like flowers. Only then did I find delicious moon cakes.
Grandpa looked at me like this and smiled and said to me, "making moon cakes is also very particular!" " Every time you press it, it is a beautiful blessing, so the moon cake is not only for eating, but also for wishing our family a happy reunion! "Hearing this sentence, my heart began to feel ashamed. It turns out that the moon cakes at home are delicious. It turns out that making moon cakes is very hard. It turns out that I am so ignorant that all the love my elders gave me was in the moon cakes.
There is always a taste of home in moon cakes, and reunion is the best filling in moon cakes!
Looking at the full moon in the sky and the exquisite and delicious moon cakes in my hand, I was thinking: Grandpa made moon cakes very skillfully, and our family celebrated the Mid-Autumn Festival. No matter whether people cherish it or not, I will feel beautiful. On this reunion day, I gradually grew up, and my inner feelings itch with the warmth of the cool breeze-I finally realized the significance of Grandpa insisting on making homemade moon cakes every year, paying attention to his family, taking responsibility and giving warmth and patience. So this is the mature appearance!
The autumn wind blows on my cheeks at night. I stared at the full moon and remembered what my grandfather had said. I gradually understand a lot of truth. It turns out that growth is not just the development of the body, but the buds in the heart continue to grow into towering trees.
In this Mid-Autumn Festival, I grew up and found that this is the mature appearance.
This is what maturity looks like. Excellent composition 4 is suitable for ancient families.
Sunrise in the east, sunset in the west, the moon rises from the mountain and hides in the morning. The month is rolling, the year is rolling, and I am crossing time. As time goes by, the river of life will eventually be peaceful and mature.
Autumn is getting stronger and stronger, and the autumn wind enters the studio, blending with paper and ink, and complementing each other. That is a studio in the corner of the school. I still remember that our classroom moved again and again, but the small room stayed quietly for five or six years. Sunlight shines into the studio through the window screen, ink and ink are regularly placed on the table, and tablecloths covered with ink are piled up in the corner, which exudes a quiet atmosphere like a mountain forest, which is completely different from the atmosphere outside the studio window.
The breeze brushed my sleeve and turned back for the first time. The rain came with the rustling of willow leaves. That's my teacher. She looks very gentle and elegant, and walks very gently when she walks in the door. She went to the podium and talked for a quarter of an hour, then let us play by ourselves.
When I tried ink painting for the first time, I picked up a brush, touched the ink in the inkstone, and confidently waved it on the paper, as if I wanted to draw a landscape in my mind. But my hands don't listen to me. I want to be independent. The ink balls are messy on the paper, and the ink is covered with the tablecloth. These childish paintings seem to be out of tune with their surroundings. In my eyes, this moment and a half of hard work is nothing more than painting fat and carving ice. More and more agitated, I seized this ineffective failure, which was ravaged and then thrown into the corner, motionless. The teacher seemed to feel my impatience and turned to me. She frowned at me without saying a word of criticism. She spread a clean rice paper, twisted a bamboo brush in her right hand and put her left hand behind her. Dip a touch of thick ink into the clear water in the dish, and the ink will fade and disperse in the water. One stroke at a time, patiently sketched, sometimes like a dragonfly, sometimes like a storm, and the quiet and mature atmosphere gradually dispersed.
The sun began to dim, and the wind hovering around the willow leaves also rested. The teacher tilted the brush and presented a beautiful landscape. Compared with the unconstrained style that I only spent a moment and a half, this is the spring breeze at the end of the pen, which makes everything angry. The combination of dynamic and static, immersive, as if a drunk is sending love to the mountains and rivers.
"Ink and wash are vivid and dense. If you want to draw the true feelings in the mountains and rivers, you must be quiet before you can draw the true feelings of peace of mind. " The teacher read aloud. Peace of mind means silence, so why not draw? If you are impetuous and naive because you are eager for success, you really can't draw a landscape.
Zhuge Yanliang said: "Indifference leads to no ambition, while quietness is not far away." Quiet is a good medicine to get rid of bondage, and it is also a mature appearance that teenagers should have. Just like ink painting, it is as light as autumn water or as thick as white wine. Ink color needs to be carefully controlled in order to achieve shades in painting. In the trickling ink painting, there is always a quiet breath flowing, which makes it precipitate for thousands of years and gradually sublimate in maturity. There are others.
Quiet is self-cultivation, frugality is self-cultivation, and quiet is tempering maturity.
This is what maturity looks like. Excellent composition 5 Hu
Gu Mo's light grinding is full of fragrance, and the new bath of inkstone is full of light inscription.
Pushing open the door of my hometown, an ink fragrance came to my nose. A huge desk leaned against the window, and the warm sunshine outside the window slanted into the room. Geometric patterns are outlined on the table through railings. There are some rice paper, inkstone and pen container scattered on the table, and there are a pile of fried brushes in the pen container. "There are so many sundries on such a big table, it is better to put my Barbie doll." I was always so naive when I was a child.
It was not until a sunny morning that I was young. Through the morning light, I saw my grandfather's pen and ink. His expression has never been so serious and solemn, and his back is straight. I realized that grandpa is not only a strange old man who used to stab me with his beard, but also has another mature look.
Grandpa's words are everywhere in the house, from the words "home and everything" by the door to the big word "harmony" on the wall, all from his hands. Every time he goes back to his hometown, he will write a line "Welcome Bao Xiao home" and put it in front of my bedroom. Over the years, he has saved more than a dozen. When there was a flood in Henan, he wrote "God bless China and Henan is safe". Grandpa used calligraphy to convey affection and pray for his home country, and I also thrived and matured under the nourishment of this traditional culture.
Grandpa's handwriting is natural and unrestrained, and people are as free and easy as words. When he was young, he was like a regular script, with high spirits. Middle age is like a running script, in one go; When you are old, it is like an official script, simple and natural. I vaguely remember that when I was a child, he held my little hand tightly with a steady big hand, holding a writing brush, and while writing, he read, "A craftsman is a craftsman who has no ability, and a craftsman who has no ability is a fool." This is the truth of writing and the truth of being a man. Grandpa has always used words to convey his meaning, and I have found a mature look bit by bit under the influence of this calligraphy.
Last summer, I went back to my hometown and pushed open the door. It's still the familiar bookish smell, or the familiar ink smell. I sorted out the messy books on my desk, sat in the plush chair, carefully studied the strokes written by my grandfather, tasted the flowers, and slowly closed my eyes in the sun. Grandpa is still his grandfather, and the calligraphy and painting on the wall is still Li Bai's first frost. My little hand was held by my grandfather, and the words in the ink penetrated the past and the future. Calligraphy weaves grandpa's past and depicts my mature appearance. It is my responsibility to inherit China culture. I grew up, and then I opened my eyes and cried.
Grandma said that grandpa's wintersweet bloomed again, under the clouds and the moon in his hometown. This plum has avoided the hustle and bustle of spring, the heat of summer and the sadness of autumn, and finally survived, becoming more mature and tall, and blooming its unique beauty in the severe winter. Looking at this plum, I was filled with emotion. He has the mature appearance of his grandfather, and I will certainly take over the fire of inheritance, accompany him all his life, accompany China traditional culture and mature, and belong to the culture of China people.