The story of my hometown
Because of the first anniversary of grandpa's death and the ceremony to be held according to local customs, I went back to my hometown with my parents.
Although it is called my "hometown" in spoken English, I was not born and raised here. The house in my hometown is a brick house. In addition to the simple hall, there are four small rooms on both sides. Looking inside, it's a barn, and the kitchen is next to it. I am a little afraid of this small kitchen from the bottom of my heart, because it is dark day and night. Stay here for a few minutes, you never know what small animals will appear around you next second. It may be a cute puppy, but it may also be a mouse with sly eyebrows. But somehow, obviously afraid of this darkness, I always like to go to the kitchen to play. When I was a child, I especially liked to go to the chimney behind the boiler to help adults burn wood. At that time, the little space behind the boiler was my greatest pleasure when I went back to my hometown. I don't know what attracted me. Now I still like to sit there, whether it's a blazing fire or a quiet kitchen.
Behind the kitchen is a yard full of flowers all year round, or at best a yard. The ground in the yard is not flat at all. I remember falling once every time I went home to play there when I was a child. The hateful rhubarb is still tied under the pipa tree on the right. Rhubarb is a fierce-looking big German shepherd. Because she was afraid of biting people in the village, her sister-in-law tied it up in the backyard. Why is it hateful? Because it doesn't see me once, it will bark for a long time. I'm most afraid of that kind of big German shepherd. What's even more embarrassing is that I thought it was a draw when I went home this time. I made faces at it proudly, no matter what it called. Suddenly it ran towards me, which made me cry on the spot. Fortunately, my brother-in-law showed up in time, otherwise my relatives and friends would not see me. (Wujiang Zhenze Yilong Redwood-Yilong Literature sz-ylhm)
When I came to the front door, I looked at the path leading to the village entrance and remembered that my mother told me that when I was a few months old, the old lady at home often went to the village entrance, waiting for the day when my mother took me home, and often waited for a day. Love me very much. But now, things have changed, and the old lady with neat legs and feet in her memory has become a black and white photo hanging on the wall. Looking at this photo, my heart can't help trembling.
Speaking of our old lady, she is really a heroine among women. She once killed a "devil" with a kitchen knife and protected her family with her own body. She was an outstanding cadre in the village when she was young. When she is old, she helps the village go up and down, and everything big and small is handled. Every family likes her. I heard from my mother that people loved to call her "iron sister-in-law" at that time. Every time I listen to my parents, I regard the old lady as an idol.
Although I haven't traveled much in my hometown since childhood, I remember everything I have stayed here clearly. Sometimes I like to listen to my parents' stories about my hometown when I have time, which fascinates me!
This old man is the treasure of the family.
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Wake up in the morning, a little cold, put on a dress, open the curtains, and a ray of light came in.
It's been more than a month since school started. Today is the third day of the National Day holiday. I can finally get up late! Looking at the clock, it's past ten o'clock, and the pedestrians on the road are still sparse. Occasionally, a few college students in a hurry ride by. After changing clothes and taking a shower, I made a cup of hot milk, chewed two pieces of bread and butter, and sat on the balcony, enjoying the morning breath.
An old man in a short coat seems out of place in the cool autumn. Behind him was a pile of firewood and some bottles and jars. Because of his age, it is difficult for him to cross this big slope. He looks skinny, weak and his hands are weak. For hundreds of kilograms of firewood, he can still climb mountains day after day without anyone's assistance.
Mother often gives his family some old newspapers and bottles without money. He always smiles and waves. "No, no, thank you! Take the money if you want it! " Then he pulled the belt on his back and crunched on the tricycle and walked away.
According to his mother, he is over 70 years old, and there is a son at home who goes out to study. He is the only one at home. When I think about it carefully, he has reached retirement age and his children have enough money to support him, but he is still self-reliant, hard-working and very happy. In this world, everyone is working hard for career and mortgage. How can anyone work for happiness? Looking at the old man, I can't help thinking deeply. I don't have to run around for my career, and I don't have any pressure. Why do I still have the lazy idea of sleeping in and staying at home? What good will it do me if I don't make progress like this?
The old man left, loaded with my remorse and introspection, took away my lazy thoughts in the past, and came back with a positive attitude and hard work.
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3. The story composition of old photos is 600 words.
Many years have passed, and this photo has been kept in the album. Every time I open it, I always smooth it out, just like smoothing the memory in my heart. . .
It's raining in Mao Mao, and I like to look through photo albums and recall the past at this time. I don't feel well, I just think
Just like the past, raindrops float in the memory of the sky, making people relive the ups and downs of the past.
When I opened the photo album, many photos appeared in front of me, each of which was warm because it was over.
Real records. Looking over and over, one of them is particularly memorable. In many photos, perhaps no one can do it.
I find it different. I think it is different because it has a story that I will never forget.
There are three people in the photo. My sister and I are sitting on a stone, and my grandmother is next to me. This photo is in the square tower.
This was taken in the park. My sister looked happy, but I didn't laugh, as if I were thinking a little, while my grandmother looked at me with ecstasy.
Look at us. Why my sister and I have different expressions? This has to start before taking pictures.
On this day, grandma took us to Fangta Park to play. Along the way, there are lush trees, pavilions, rockeries and ponds.
The scenery is beautiful. We are all in good spirits, talking and laughing. Go to a yard and see one.
Small pond, grandma suggested taking a picture, and of course we all raised our hands in favor. Grandma made us sit in front of the rockery.
On two stones, the mouth is still saying, "Come, my sister sits on the big stone and my sister sits on the small stone. Sit tight! " "I
Hearing this, I quickly sat up and put on what I thought was the cutest shape, but my sister on the side was unhappy.
Let us two monks confused. With grandma's patient negotiation, I finally figured out the reason.
It turned out that my sister refused to "feel inferior" and sat on that small stone. Watching me pose, grandma had to keep doing it.
"Ideological work", but my sister is determined not to sit down, which is hard for everyone. Stiff for a while, I have
I'm impatient with writing. "shoot!" I shouted. Grandma looked at me with expectant eyes and said, "Sister wants to sit with you."
That big rock, or ... . ? "I hurriedly sat on a small stone next to me, and my sister was exposed.
Laughed. Grandma boasted, "What a sister! How sensible and humble!" Thinking about milk
I couldn't laugh at what Milk said, but I kept the word "humility" firmly in my heart. With the flash of the flash.
This moment was frozen, and "humility" was also frozen.
Now, my sister and I have grown up, and we will never be unhappy because of small things, but I always remember.
This story, even though I didn't know what real "humility" was, at least I did it.
Point, this is what I have always been proud of.
Many years have passed, and this photo has been kept in the album. Every time I open it, I always smooth it out, just like
Is to smooth the memory in my heart. . .
4. Old story composition
The performance began and all the other young singers did their best. They are full of energy, full of energy, mellow and rich, and it is difficult to distinguish them. It's my turn to sing soon. I'm very excited.
My heart is pounding and my hands are sweating. At this moment, Teacher Zhou quietly came to my side, stroking my head, and smiled and said to me, "You are the best. My classmates and I will cheer for you!" Zhoulao
The teacher's words were like a panacea, which eased my nervousness at once. I sang on the stage and won applause from teachers and classmates. When I got back to my seat, Miss Zhou took my hand and said kindly, "It was really good.
Great! You are really a little singer in our class! "
Although they are just ordinary words, they have had an extremely effective effect on me, as if a warm current flooded my whole body and warmed my heart. With these two words, I feel very relaxed on the stage, let me "dance" freely on the stage, and let me jump into the hearts of small audiences like a happy elf. Under the stage, although I only won the third prize, I didn't feel embarrassed.
Although I have transferred to another school now, the two words that Teacher Zhou said have been warming me. I will always remember them!
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Like a tinkling brook, your words always linger in my ears, and my heart is like a warm sun, bringing me infinite warmth.
Your words are not the cold of December, nor the heat of dog days, but the warmth of early spring from the inside out. "Lazy egg, get up and eat, the sun is shining!" Give me the first place in the morning.
Silk is warm. "Go home for breakfast at noon, set the alarm clock and have a good sleep." I found it warm in an empty room. "Go to bed early." Very short but meaningful, warm the world.
Too many.
Your words are not snow, nor boundless desert, but the warmth in the snow. "Ah, I didn't do well this time. We will make it up next time, and take the test 125! " Although the logic is a bit ...
5. An old man's story composition
An old man who manages bicycles.
The old lady in charge of bicycles in our alley is always sixty or seventy years old. She has silver hair, a bag on her shoulder every day, and faded blue overalls, charging parking people again and again. Whenever I see her do this, I always think: Hum, at such a big age, she still "steals points". She really loves money! However, one thing changed my view of her.
It was a summer vacation this year. I went to the park to play. It is really "unpredictable". Just came out of the alley, with dark clouds, lightning and thunder, and a downpour. I didn't bring my umbrella, so I had to go down to the alley to take shelter from the rain. No sooner had I rushed downstairs than I saw a figure with a plastic poncho in his hand. Strangely, however, the poncho was not covered on himself, but on a bicycle. I saw her facing the wind and braving the rain, taking care of nothing and trying her best to cover the car with a poncho. The poncho covered one piece after another. At this time, I was deeply moved by what I witnessed, and at the same time I thought anxiously: Grandma is so old, covering the car in the rain, and I was thinking, there is a gust of wind, so cold! I can't help shivering. Oh, no, the poncho that grandma just covered was suddenly blown away by the wind. Grandma quickly went to cover it again, but the wind seemed to be deliberately against her, and just now the good poncho was blown away again! Grandma came up with a good idea. She limped to the corner of a garbage dump, laboriously lifted several big bricks and pressed the four corners of the plastic sheet one by one. No matter how strong the wind is, she can't lift the poncho!
The wind roared and the rain poured down. At this time, grandma was soaked to the skin, like a "soaked chicken" fished out of the water, but she just brushed her wet hair with her hand, dumped a handful of rain and smiled slightly.
Soon, someone came to pick up the car. When they saw the dry cushion, their mouths were wide open and their eyes were round. When they saw the old woman's wet body, everything understood. ...
Watching, watching, suddenly a feeling of being respected rose in my chest, and I finally understood that grandma didn't want to "pick points", but to give full play to the residual heat, serve everyone and make more contributions to the masses!
Now, whenever I meet this old woman, I always shout with respect: "Hello grandma"!
You can add a description of your appearance as appropriate until your last search.
I think the next one is better.
I often listen to my uncle and aunt. Individual traders love to cheat. They wrapped potatoes in earth as preserved eggs and filled the chicken belly with water to sell them to people. I only sell bananas for seven taels a catty. I don't like self-employed, and I never buy their things. However, one thing changed my impression of them, and I will never forget it.
It was a cold winter afternoon, and when I went to physical education class, I suddenly felt the air leakage under my feet. Looking down, I found my cotton shoes open and I went home. I told my father about it. Father said, "Winter is going to pass, so buying new shoes is not counted. Let's make it up! " But there is no shoe repair shop near my home, so I have to put on my sneakers and go with my father to find the old man who repairs shoes near our school.
At this time, the sun is about to set in the west, and the cold northwest wind blows up the sand on the ground. People walked in a hurry against the cold wind. The old man who repaired shoes has packed the shoe box and is ready to go home. Seeing this, my father hurried forward and said, "Grandpa, can you mend this child's shoes?" When he went to physical education class, his shoe line fell off. The old man looked at the whistling wind and hesitated, but he saw me wearing worn-out sneakers and said, "All right! "
The old man reopened the shoe repair box, sat on the stool, picked up my shoes, looked at them and mended them. I studied the old man carefully. He had gray hair, a bronzed face, bright eyes and wrinkles on his forehead. Due to years of repairing shoes, his hands are covered with thick cocoons. He held a shoe cone in one hand and a thread in the other, sewing one by one. The crack was plugged, but he didn't stop. He pulled out the places where the thread was about to open one by one and sewed it again. He said to himself, "Children's shoes are not strong." He sewed it carefully again, but I was thinking, "Well, don't you want to overcharge me?"
When mending shoes, the old man's hands were frozen stiff. Dad asked him softly, "How much is it?" He held out two fingers of his right hand and said without looking up, "Twenty cents." I was shocked. Dad asked him how much money he could earn a day while paying. He said: "hey, what money is not money, it is convenient for everyone!" " The old man's words struck my heart like a small hammer. ...
6. Write a composition on the topic of "My past"
My old stuff.
My grandmother has been dead for many years. I can't forget her face and her movements, and there is one thing I will never forget, and that is the thimble I have always treasured. Grandma made me a pair of shoes and clothes with this little thimble. Small thimble, hiding countless stories that moved me.
When I was born, my grandmother was over 60 years old, but she must ask to take care of me. I always lived in my grandmother's house when I was a child. My grandmother makes me a suit and a pair of cotton shoes every year so that I can have a warm winter. Gradually, I grew up and it was time to go to school. In order to get a better education, my mother took me to other places. I clearly remember how my grandmother held back her tears on the day I parted from her.
Since then, every time I go back to my hometown, it will take a year or two. Life without grandma always feels flawed. When I went back to my hometown this year, I saw my grandmother holding a piece of cloth and wearing a round ring on her middle finger. I asked inexplicably, "Grandma, what are you wearing on this hand?" "This is a thimble, and grandma used it to make shoes for you." I looked at this little thimble, which brought back many memories of my childhood.
When I was a child, my grandmother always made clothes for me in her spare time. Among my friends, my shoes are the most beautiful. I am not only wearing an ordinary dress, but also my grandmother's deep love for me!
A small thimble is neither priceless nor precious. It may be worthless in the eyes of others, but it is a treasure in my eyes, because it symbolizes love-the deep love my grandmother gave me!
Now that grandma is gone, I only have a few lovely clothes and that little thimble. ...
7. Essay "Anecdotes of My Old People"
There are many new things in our family! No, an anecdote that made people laugh recently happened in our family!
Last Sunday, grandpa decided to get together with his old friends, so he wanted to call them first. He reached into his pocket and found that his mobile phone was missing. His anxious grandfather shouted at home. Mom, dad and grandma rushed after hearing this and found the mobile phone together. Dad scanned the bed, bed, pillow, wardrobe and clothes in grandpa's room and found no trace. Grandma and mom don't know. Mom and dad searched the sofa and under it again, but found nothing.
At this time, I ran out and asked what was going on. Then I asked my grandfather, "Grandpa, is your mobile phone on or off?" Grandpa said, "Open!" I have a bottom in my heart I picked up my father's cell phone and dialed my grandfather's phone. I went into the bedroom, but there was no sound. I went to the living room again, and there was no sound. Suddenly, slow music came from the kitchen. I went to the kitchen, looking for a sound. I walked to the front of the refrigerator and found that the sound was coming from the refrigerator. I opened the refrigerator and saw grandpa's mobile phone lying comfortably in the refrigerator! I shouted, "Grandpa, I found my mobile phone! The phone is found! " I showed my mobile phone to my grandfather, who smiled and said, "I'm really senile!" " "Mom, dad and I both laughed.
The anecdote of our family is interesting enough! Grandpa still holds Lu's pen like a mord, waiting for us little reporters to interview him again!
8. My family's old story composition 800 high school Chinese
There are three people in my family, my parents and I, but there are many stories in my family, just like a string of wind chimes. As long as the wind blows, it will make a crisp and pleasant sound. Now, let me play a string of wind chimes for you!
Whenever my family has dinner, my father, mother and I always wolf down their meals. Why? Because we are going to grab the remote control and watch TV! Because of the small appetite and slow eating, I always let my father or mother grab the remote control. Look! This time, mom and dad got the remote control at the same time, and they are robbing it! Seeing this, I rolled my eyes and came up with a good idea. I quickly finished my meal, then went to my parents and said solemnly, "When did you take it away from me like this?" Even if one of you robs it, the good TV series will be finished soon. Why not cut paper with stones? I'll be the referee first, put the remote control here first, and I'll give it to whoever wins, okay? "Mom and Dad thought it made sense, so they gave me the remote control." Rock, scissors, cloth! "Mom won the first game, and Dad said," No, no, one more game. "After the second game, my father won, but my mother shouted," No, no, another game. "... in this way, mom and dad lien chan has tied for ten games.
"Well-",now guess what I'm doing? I have a remote control, so I can watch cartoons! So I sat on the sofa and watched cartoons. After more than half an hour, I finished watching the cartoon. Think about "News Network" that my father likes to watch and "Lucky 5+2" that my mother likes to watch. Look at the way they compete fiercely. I quickly left the remote control and ran into the room, locked the door and slept soundly. When parents heard the noise, they suddenly realized that they had been cheated by their daughter. While talking, they looked at their watches, and when they had finished reading everything they liked, they had to go to bed with a snort.
Children, do you think this wind chime sounds good? Do you want to hear it again? If you still want to hear it, listen next time! Next time, I will blow a better wind chime for you.
9. Composition: Old photos of my family.
I have an old photo album at home, and I have never seen anyone in the photo. When I was a child, I liked to watch it with my grandfather. Look and ask who this is and who that is.
When I grow up, I still often look through that photo album. Speaking of it, most of the characters in the photos are no longer alive, even the 70-year-old people, and the original children have grown into the pillars of the family. Look at the shooting time. That was in the early 1990s. God, I haven't been born yet. The deceased can't ask about the stories and characters in the photos, and the children can't remember them clearly. They can only ask their grandfather who is over 70 years old.
Look, this is a family photo, with four generations living under one roof. Sitting in the middle row is my father's grandfather, that is, my grandfather's father. I should call him grandpa. My grandfather and his two brothers are by his side. Standing in the back row are my father, uncle, uncle and three aunts. At that time, they were really young. They are all young people in their prime. Although their clothes are old, they are full of energy and high fighting spirit. Look at the "dwarf" in the front row. They are two or three years old at most. Some are gnawing their fingers, and some are kneeling on the knees of adults. They looked up at the front curiously. They just learned to walk. Who are they? I didn't know they were my brothers and sisters until I asked grandpa. I was just about to ask.-Why didn't I think of that? I can't help being happy when I think about it carefully. I haven't been born yet.
Now, Grandpa Zu has been dead for more than ten years. He died before I could remember his face, even before he hugged me enough. Grandpa said, "You were born in February, and your grandparents hugged you, and you were very happy, but it didn't take long ..." Grandpa couldn't help but burst into tears and choked up, and I couldn't bear to ask any more questions. And my father's father, my grandfather's generation, is white-haired and exhausted, and is enjoying a happy life in his later years. Mom and dad work hard and pay for us children. People are still in their prime, but they are exhausted by illness. My brothers and sisters have been admitted to college, and they will join the work in a few years. As for me, I am trying to learn scientific and cultural knowledge to lay the foundation for my bright future.
From the old photos of my family, I found traces of life and understood the preciousness of time. Yes, time has changed us and everything. God can take anyone at any time. We should cherish every day and cherish everyone around us.
I like old photos of my family!
10. A 300-word composition about an old incident at home
My old baby is my 75-year-old grandmother.
Because my school is close to my grandmother's house, I have lived in her house since the first grade. Every morning, grandma gets up early to make breakfast for me. It won't be heavy in a week, and you should pay attention to nutrition. As soon as I get home at noon, I can see a lot of delicious food waiting for me on the table. As long as there are fresh fruits in the market, no matter how expensive, grandma will buy them for me.
Every day, my grandmother urges me to jump rope and kick shuttlecock ... Recently, I am addicted to jumping rope. My grandmother and mother counted me while shaking the rope for me. Although I am thin, I have a very good constitution, which is attributed to my grandmother.
Grandma is a retired primary school Chinese teacher. She told me the importance of learning Chinese from an early age and taught me how to learn Chinese. Every day when she comes home, she will help me review what I have said in class, and I will also add a lot of extra-curricular knowledge. Under her strict requirements, I haven't practiced calligraphy, but my handwriting is very good and I seldom write typos. You can recite every text by reading it once or twice. After dinner every day, grandma gave up the opportunity to watch TV and read newspapers for me, which made me know a lot of interesting things, exercised my understanding ability and made me understand a lot of truth. Under the cultivation of my grandmother, I became interested in writing articles. She encouraged me to write more, and I gained a lot of happiness in writing.
What I am most proud of is that my grandmother took more than 20 students with her on weekends. She not only helped them finish their homework seriously, but also educated them with love, which was respected by parents and students. So the students don't call grandma "teacher", but kindly call her "grandma"