Composition 1 About the Treasure Some people get up early in the morning and see the misty flowers wake up, so they freeze this moment with their cameras and keep it in their photo albums. Some people visit Xiangshan Mountain in autumn and are fascinated by a Momijiyama, so they take some pieces as bookmarks and keep them in their books. There are too many beautiful things in the world, but almost all of them are easy to die. What we can cherish is a memory and a feeling.
Occasionally tired of the hustle and bustle of S city, a small town in the south, I miss Zhouzhuang, a water town. We are Zhouzhuang in the Spring Festival. At that time, there were no tourists in the town, but there was more peace in winter.
Zhouzhuang people don't go, they take a boat. We picked a canopy boat at the ferry. The girl who punted the boat was young, and she packed the boat. We went downstream. At first, the atmosphere was dull, only the sound of wood pulp beating the water was heard. Later, when she reached an ancient bridge, the girl suddenly got excited: "This is a double-lock bridge. You see, two bridges are connected, which has a history of hundreds of years! " People who cross the bridge will be blessed! "Looking up, it is a vertically connected bridge made of two bluestones. The ancient rhyme is deep, and the bridge base is covered with moss, which is the same color as the clear river below. Someone laughed: "So you Zhouzhuang people are lucky to walk on the bridge every day?" The girl looked smug and said, "Of course, it must be a blessing to stay here and see such a beautiful scenery every day. "This statement is true. As the ship slowly moved forward, the white-gray tiles on both sides of the strait gradually retreated like slow motion in old movies. Because it just snowed yesterday, the newly swept snow on both sides of the road this morning is crystal clear. Like suet jade, the tiles on the roof are white, and the original color of the roof is exposed in the cracks of the tiles, which is more and more black and white. A little melted water dripped from the eaves on the slate, which was also a crisp sound. Because it is winter, there is no spring scenery in the south of the Yangtze River with weeping willows on both sides, but the lanterns hung by every household clearly add a little festive joy, and the scenery is no longer bleak and bleak. The wooden window of the dark carved bird is half open and half closed, and the old woman can be seen busy in the kitchen, with smoke curling up. The whole Zhouzhuang is immersed in a quiet atmosphere, which is peaceful and beautiful.
It's like someone spread out a piece of rice paper and splashed ink on it with a wolf pen. The black ink scattered bit by bit, making it look blurred. Black is the blue stone on the road of the house. White is deep winter and new snow. Although there are no birds and flowers, it is also charming to decorate with solid red lanterns. This kind of amorous feelings only belongs to Zhouzhuang, and I can't take it away or give it up. I can only treasure the meaningful Zhouzhuang snow scene in my heart.
The winter scenery of Zhouzhuang, which is treasured deep in my heart, always comes into my eyes from time to time. It is a memory and a feeling of "not remembering Jiangnan". I can only cherish this memory and feeling.
Composition about Cherishing 2 Sixteen-year-old rainy season, girl, please cherish your beauty quietly. These flowers are not in full bloom. Now you stand out and give everything to the handsome guy who picks flowers without reservation. He will pick you off, and it won't be long before you wither and may even be thrown away. The last person will be sad silently.
Look out of the window, how can a person be dark and the phoenix tree is raining. At dusk, dribs and drabs, how can you be sad at that time?
Sixteen years old, at this age of struggle, at this good time of youth and vitality. Classmate W entrusted his heart to boy L. When everyone was holding a book, he was kissing me with teacher L. Their love was as fragile and tenacious as grass, and they loved it recklessly. Until that day, the class teacher discovered their love and the boy was sent home by the old class. When everyone is studying and listening carefully in class, she waits and waits like Li Qingzhao every day, waiting for the boy to come back.
Girl, you still don't know what you missed and lost. You bloomed beautiful too early, and the ending will be very sad!
Sixteen-year-old, at this good time when you should concentrate on your studies, but you study like sister Lin Daiyu, and your future life will be even more sad.
Listen to me, girls should not choose comfort when they should struggle. Everyone will go through the process of growing up, getting married and having children.
Don't rush to bloom beautiful too early, but what belongs to you is yours after all, even if you are 70 or 80 years old, you can't run away. What's the information on the internet: it's too late to fall in love, and life without puppy love is imperfect and incorrect.
At this age of flowers and dreams, girls will have a good impression on boys and have a throb in their hearts. I know, I really know.
But not yet. Please cherish your love for boys and your own beauty. Now study hard, study hard. Maybe we can meet again in the future. You can whisper to yourself, "that's the boy I used to like." Instead of falling in love now, you will introduce yourself to the girls around the boy and say, "I am his ex-girlfriend." Every girl deserves to be loved. We wait for love, waiting for his arrival. We cherish purity and beauty, and in the future, in the best time and the most beautiful season, give the best of you to the people who love you the most.
Girl, please cherish your beauty quietly now. Flowers should also choose to shine at the most appropriate time.
On Sunday, I opened the dusty diary and saw a short story. I can't help laughing at my ignorance as a child. But when I turned to the last page, I stopped. I seem to have pressed the rewind button, and he took me back to the summer of 20xx in my memory. ...
Summer mornings are always beautiful. Every day after breakfast, I sit behind my father's bike. It takes me to school. The day passed quickly, but the weather changed as fast as time, and it was raining lightly. I wondered why my father didn't pick me up, and finally I walked home by myself. The home was full of chilling peace, and my father slowly got up from his seat and walked towards me. His expression is serious, but it can be seen that he is having a psychological struggle inside. Finally, he said, "Son, I'm going to work in other places."
Although he had a mechanical smile on his face, I was in tears, and crying broke the silence, as if to drown out the rain outside. "Son, this is a good thing." Father said softly, "it's time to exercise you." Don't you want to be a man? " I choked and nodded, and a warm big hand fell on my shoulder: "Don't cry, wipe your tears." After that, he gently wiped the tears from my face. At night, I can't sleep for a long time I recalled my father's love for me: every morning, he sent me to school; Every day and night, he helps me review my lessons; Every year, he silently dedicated to me; Every spring and autumn, it is him. ...
The next morning, the sun seemed brighter than before, and my father seemed to age a lot overnight, perhaps because he worked too hard. I sat in the back seat of my bike again, and I held him like a baby. I really hope that time can pass slowly, because I know that there are not many such opportunities in the future. The school is here. After getting off the bus, a warmer hand patted me on the shoulder. Although it was only a pat, he gave me encouragement and support, and also added a responsibility to my shoulders. My heart is beating, as if my father's love had given it life. I turned and strode to school, never looking back, because I felt my father's love stayed in my heart, and his love will accompany me forever!
When I closed my diary, I felt mixed feelings, but when I looked at the family photo on the table, I smiled again, because I understood a truth: only when I lost it, did I know what treasure was.
This may be the most beautiful picture in my heart. I will cherish it and let my father's love last forever!
There are always two kind words in my heart: hometown. Beautiful and exquisite, they will always belong to my hometown in my memory. My childhood hometown is full of my laughter and my unforgettable childhood.
The beauty of my hometown lies not only in its exquisiteness, but also in the fact that it is full of my childhood laughter and familiar and enthusiastic faces.
My hometown in my memory is sentimental. When I was a child, every time I went back to my hometown, I always saw the dense tree-lined path from a distance. On a foggy morning, my father rode a car and drove me back and forth on the path. I reached out and brushed my hand gently across the treetops. The cold fog wetted my fingertips and I took a deep breath. The faint earthy smell of my hometown mixed with wet water vapor got into my throat and cooled my heart. The osmanthus tree behind the house is always faint and fragrant. After August, it will bloom with a golden smile and quietly send intoxicating fragrance to thousands of families, so the whole hometown is infatuated and dreamy. ...
The hometown in my memory is kind. Every time I go back to my hometown, a smiling face blooms at you. Rhubarb dog in front of my neighbor's house always walks on the path not far from my hometown with his tail up and his head held high. Grandparents at home have stood on the stone steps and smiled. At this time, I can't help but have an impulse to go home, which spreads all over my body warmly ... I play marbles with my big brothers and sisters, and they always give way to me, so my pockets are full every time I go home.
My hometown in my memory is a water town. The river in front of and behind the house always flows quietly. The water plants on both sides of the house swayed gently with the breeze, and the afternoon before night became lively. Laughter and laughter are also rippling along the river. The dirt road in front of the door is always muddy and can't be used for a long time. When I opened the door in the morning, the fog suddenly poured into the house, and the whole hometown became a faint ink painting, so hazy that I could even melt my heart together. When the sun slowly clears the fog, a layer of water drops falls on the leaves, which is another hometown like water.
My hometown in my memory always fascinates me. Ten years passed quickly, and occasionally I rode back to my hometown in my spare time, but I couldn't find the tree-lined road, only to see a section of roots standing helpless and lonely; I can't smell osmanthus fragrance, only the dust all over the sky; People in the past have already gone to the empty old house, and the red word "demolition" stung me. There was only one figure left on the stone steps, without a smiling face, looking blankly into the distance ... Only then did I find that my hometown had left me. ...
I stood on the land of my hometown, sad and lost. My hometown, beautiful hometown, is only treasured in my memory. ...
I remember it was the first snow in 19xx, and I was born peacefully like a snowflake. I tried to open my mouth and cry hard. I don't know if I was crying. If I were, it would be the first tear in my life.
Then, under the careful care of my parents, I grew up to 3 years old. My mother asked my grandmother to send me to kindergarten, and I was left in kindergarten by my cruel grandmother. I looked at my grandmother's far-away back and chased her up like a conditioned reflex. I resolutely ignored the call of my aunt behind me. Finally, I climbed out of nowhere and fell in front of my grandmother, holding my feet and crying. Grandma was sad to see it, too. A tear fell on my face. This is the first time in my life to leave.
The experience of kindergarten made me strong, so I seldom shed tears until primary school. Until one time, when I was in the fifth grade of primary school, some students in my class carried out the copying activity of "sharing answers and sharing life", and the teachers also heard about it, vowing to catch all the stolen goods without any hint from any country. One afternoon after school, when I packed my schoolbag, I accidentally picked up my deskmate's math workbook. The next morning, the attentive and selfless team leader found this matter and reported it to the teacher. So ... After 30 seconds, the teacher called me into the office. I know my own storm is waiting for me, and I have prepared a defense in my heart. But as soon as we entered the busy farming season, the rainstorm suddenly came and came at me. I didn't have a chance to explain, and two lines of tears quickly flowed down. The teacher finally got thirsty and fined me to write 1000 words. This is the first time in my life that I have been so wronged, and it is also the first time that I have written this matter.
Later, with the golden fruit in September, I successfully entered junior high school. The study life in junior high school makes me feel that the world seems to be getting bigger. I also met many excellent people, and I found my childhood dream in them. Looking back, I found myself wasting so much precious time, grinding away the fiery pursuit of many dreams, grinding away the wings that can fight the sky, grinding away the hotbed of laziness, and grinding away the ignorant, immature and underdeveloped thoughts. At this point, there are two lines of clear tears, tears of remorse, tears of excitement, tears of hard work, and tears for my own ambition for the first time.
In my short life of more than ten years, I have never counted how many tears I have shed, but I know that tears are accompanied by growth, and the tears in these memories are the footprints of my growth. In the future, I will grow up, so I will cry. I will cherish all the tears in my heart, let them become twinkling stars in my memory and witness every step of my growth!
I looked at the multi-tone door, a rusty lock, locked on it, but my thoughts had flown to the world behind the door.
A treasure worth collecting is true feelings.
The whole world behind the door is my childhood. It was a room full of fragrance and ink, which filled me with many memories.
Grandpa is a veteran and loves calligraphy after retirement. Do you still remember your childhood, babbling and learning English? If you don't know anything, grandpa will hold me in his right hand and write with a brush in his left. When he is too tired to write, he will take out his handsome military uniform photo from the chest of drawers, and while stroking it carefully, he will give it to me: "Sun, look at Grandpa when he was young ..." His deeply sunken eyes shine. He is old and brave. This is the best explanation.
When a beautiful girl first grew up, in her third and fourth grade, she refused to stay with her grandfather and looked at the boring white and black ink. While grandpa was not looking, she rushed to the garden at the door. Grandpa is never angry. She just squatted beside me with my pace, pointing to some flowers. She said to me, "Look, Sun, that's peony, that's Chinese rose ..." She immersed herself in it every time.
This is my childhood.
After that, I grew older, my studies became more complicated, and I became busy. I can't stay with my grandfather for another hour every day, but I just call my family once or twice a month to say hello during the Spring Festival. The flowers are as bright as ever, and the ink is still strong. Only grandpa is getting older every year, and the only thing that won't change is to write a few words: "Sun, grandpa seems to write in brush." "Sun, shall we go for a walk in the park?" As in childhood, nothing has changed.
The ocean is boundless, but the ship will eventually set sail.
Just last year, the news of grandpa's death came from my hometown. I didn't see my grandfather for the last time. I can't help crying at the thought of his voice and appearance. I have gradually realized that the most valuable treasure in the world is not the' ten million dollars', nor the fame and fortune, but the true feelings, which are little by little emotional care and waiting! My mood brought me back to reality. There is still a rusty lock hanging on the multi-tone door, flowers are still blooming, and ink is still there, which is always hard to let go.
A treasure worth collecting is true feelings.
I have been in this world for 14 years, experienced all the ups and downs, and received some in my heart! I will open it when I am lonely, but in the deepest part of my heart, it has been following me. I can't forget it either!
Remember when I was a child and I was not sensible! I got full marks in every math exam, but failed in the other two. Once, my dad purposely came to pick me up from work at school to have a look at his grades, so I gave it to him. He read the theory of number completion: "Yes! Xiaolong, keep it. " As a result, there are mixed feelings. When my father saw the second picture, he squatted on his head in anger and said to me with warning eyes: "You are really angry with your father. If you are so eccentric, you will be punished for mopping the floor when you go back. " Hearing this, I couldn't help saying, "Who told you to have such a poor son? Profession is none of my business! " . Dad naturally gave me a clap. I was weak and cried on the spot. I ran out desperately. Before I ran, I left a sentence, "I want to run away from home." I'll show you if people can fight around. " Dad pretended not to worry and said, "Don't you dare go! If you leave, never come back! " At this time, my father's voice and my father sang the opposite. "Don't worry, he will come back by himself when he gets angry!" "
In the evening, I didn't come back, and my parents waited for me in the living room. After 9 o'clock, my father saw that my mother was sleepy, so my father and mother went back to sleep. But after my mom went to sleep, my dad went out of the living room and waited for me to come back, and turned off the light. At this time, I saw the light in front of the door went out and knew that the opportunity to go home had come. As soon as I opened the door and pressed the light, something unexpected happened. I changed my expression when I saw my father. I'm afraid he will hit me. Later, until my father said, "Xiaolong, you are back. I've been waiting for you here for a long time. Where are you going? I'm sorry! Dad went too far today. How's it going? Let your anger disappear! Let's take a bath! I heat the food. " At this moment, the tears in my eyes can't help flowing down, and my hands and feet can't help running over and hugging my father until my tears wet my father's clothes!
If a mother's love is like water, then a father loves a mountain. Only then did I know that my father loved me so much. Now I can't help crying when I think about it. This incident let me know how great fatherly love is, so I will never forget it. I will cherish it and put it in the deepest part of my heart.
Grade One: Lei Long.
In my heart, I have always cherished a sentence. It is imprinted on the paper, and it is also imprinted on the heart. He witnessed the birth of "revolutionary friendship" and had a difficult time for me.
When I first entered the first grade, I thought I was getting better, but I started having nightmares. At the beginning of the exam, I didn't do well. I froze and felt the sky was falling. At noon that day, after dinner, I sat on the stone steps and cried. Tears slowly swept across the cheeks, and the young heart was eclipsed.
The fallen branches, under the gloomy white curtains, stretched straight and waited for a while, bare, dull and monotonous, but full of flavor. Like a concise oil painting. After a long time, people actually have the illusion of a moment-as if they saw branches stretching in the air, cutting the world into pieces like a knife, hitting the ground sparsely, and stepping on it seems to make a sound. Back to God, the world is still confusing.
Just when I was infinitely disappointed, he came slowly and suddenly understood a lot when he saw me like this. He approached me gradually, sat down slowly, took out a pack of paper towels from his pocket and handed it to me. Then he stuffed the pack of paper towels back into his bag and began to fiddle with his fingers.
"Thank you." I took the paper towel and wiped my tears, and then I began to mutter, "Well, that's it, that's it, that's it, that's it, that's it, that's it. I don't know the future? " I sighed and said, "Actually, I". Before I finished, he interrupted me, swallowed again and said, "Have you said enough? This can't be an excuse for you to escape. I will send you a present. Don't lose it! " When he spoke, it began to look around. At this time, his face was slightly red, perhaps because of the hot weather, and the sweat of beans rolled down from his forehead. His mouth is wrinkled with layers of skin, and he has to help me because he didn't do well in the exam. It's very hard.
"Yes," he took out a piece of paper from his left trouser pocket, which was only the size of a palm after being unfolded. I'm a little annoyed. He turned and went out, and a few words jumped out of the paper. I leaned my head over and looked at him: "Are you willing to get the same score as scum? Are you willing to accept the wanton ridicule of your peers?" If you don't want to, use your own strength to fight back at those who ridicule you. "
I am deeply shocked. He folded the paper, handed it to me, and continued, "This was given to me by a close friend of mine. Keeping this sentence in mind is more important than anything else! "
At this time, I thought to myself: having a good friend can appreciate the pure beauty of human nature and the preciousness of true feelings at the same time. Friendship is also a kind of love, a more noble and sincere love, a kind of love worth cherishing. With this gift, I feel a deep friendship.
The wind is blowing and the memory is over. Looking at the paper in my hand, I couldn't help laughing. The touching stories at that time are still cherished in my heart and have always inspired me.
In my childhood memory, there seems to be a very familiar person, and many meaningful things that happened to me are closely related to him! I tried to guess: Is that man my friend? No, she must be my best friend.
Until you open the long-cherished photo album! Strange to say, that photo album is like a key, which opens the door of my memory and reminds me of falling asleep!
The recovery of memory helps me a lot. I met her again! I think the memory of being with him should be treasured by me, but I almost threw it into the abyss, thanking the god of fate for his mercy. However, I still feel that our meeting was also arranged by the god of fate.
Thinking of this, I can't help but think of our happy time, all the meaningful things between us, the subtle friction between us, and the oath we made: we vowed to break up, but we played together the next day!
We were so close when we were children. Although it was only a short year, our friendship was indestructible. If it wasn't bad, it wouldn't forget at all! But fate didn't snub me after all, did it? No, it's probably not just fate! Perhaps a pure heart is also an important factor for us to become friends! Fate+two innocent hearts = the basic elements of building a bridge of friendship.
As far as I can remember, she has always been so perfect and considerate. She always helps me, always does something for me silently, and always listens to my heart.
The moment I opened the photo album, my tears flowed down. For the first time, I feel that I miss someone very much. For the first time, I felt that I had been kicked out. It's the first time I'm so eager to find someone.
Open the photo album that has been treasured for a long time and think of a memory worth cherishing. I'm worried about forgetting these things again, and I'm worried that more memories will sneak into the depths of the memory ocean again. I will keep a diary, write everything down, have a cup of hot tea when I am free, and then turn over my diary. Stop having fun!
Cherish every memory and savor it carefully, and you will find that every memory is worth cherishing, and the value between them is different!
About the precious composition 10 Open the photo album of memory and reread the warmth of the past. The warmth of an old cattail leaf fan has cherished my love for my grandmother all my life.
Walking into the dusty room, I opened the creaking drawer, picked up the shabby bamboo cattail leaf fan, put it on the dark blue glass table, and quietly watched my fingers fondle the yellowed fan, close to my cheeks, bringing a little coolness and coolness.
I always miss the days when I was a child. On summer nights, there are bursts of heat in the air, cicadas keep chirping under the lush banyan tree, and frogs in the field sing a little song with cicadas. Grandma always lies comfortably in the rocking chair, and I always like to lie in grandma's arms, and the old cattail leaf fan in my hand raises waves of breeze, which is very comfortable.
Looking up at the starry sky, the big black curtain is covered with shining stars. The stars are smiling, just like grandma. In this way, I closed my eyes involuntarily. At this time, I can always feel a pair of rough and thin hands, sleeping peacefully in this caress.
In hot summer, the night is also incredibly hot. In a short time, I was awakened by the hot air, only to find myself lying in bed in a daze, with a thin red flame approaching at the door. It was grandma who came in with a plate of mosquito-repellent incense. She laid it gently under the bed, lying beside me carefully, and the cattail leaf fan in her hand fanned out a hot air, which was neither urgent nor slow, and the rhythm was even. I closed my eyes again. Unconsciously, I seemed to hear the nursery rhymes sung by my grandmother. The timbre is not so crisp but powerful, and the timbre is not so complete but warm. Grandma's nursery rhymes came into my ears gently, and the cattail leaf fan in my hand slowly shook me into my dream with grandma's singing and the coolness of the cattail leaf fan.
On midsummer night, lying on grandma's body, I always listen to her elaborate on the past events of playing with me. Grandma said that Taigong left, and he didn't know how much we would miss him. He will never see our baby great-granddaughter grow up healthily and happily again. But I never take her words seriously. Grandma is holding a cattail leaf fan in her hand, and her eyes reveal a little sadness and disappointment.
It was not until that summer that no one helped me fan the cattail leaf fan, sing nursery rhymes and tell me about Taigong that I really understood what grandma said at that time: she wanted to watch me grow up! I just realized how much my great-grandmother loved me. I miss you so much.
The big banyan tree in front of the door is no longer lush, and the rocking chair at home is no longer shaken. That's because there is a rickety figure missing, and there are some beautiful memories missing, some about childhood and grandma. A beautiful dream about that summer night.
Looking at the cattail leaf fan that my grandmother once shook in front of me, it has aged a lot. It carries my grandmother's love, and I should cherish it.