Pen Story Composition 1 One day, in math class, the teacher asked everyone to take out a red pen to correct their scores. After grading, the young master got 100. Don't change it with a black pen. The red pen laughed at the black pen and said; You are useless, the master doesn't need you at all! Black pen said; You can't be so proud, we are all pens, and we are all of the same kind! The red pen said, "Shut up, don't you dare to compete with me! Then the red pen kept laughing at the black pen, and gradually the black pen ignored the red pen. Red pen is still so proud and often laughs at others!
The red pen had many friends, but it was a pity that it often laughed at and satirized others, and as a result, friends left it one by one. One day, pencils, black pens, pens, colored pens, feather pens, plastic pens and invisible pens are all playing in the table. The red pen is jealous and getting worse. It always bullies other pens. One day, the pen family held a party and invited the red pen, but the red pen did not accept it. In the evening, family gatherings began. Some of them chatted, some danced, and some even threw tables out for a walk. The red pen was left there alone, and no one played with it.
One day, the master wanted to change the score again and took out a red pen to change it. Just finished changing, no water. Master threw it away, class is over. Those pens all went to the trash can and carried the red pen back to the table. Red pen is very grateful to them and knows his mistake. It slowly corrected and became a pen that everyone loved.
When I picked up a pen to write, I couldn't help thinking of my story with the pen.
I remember that day, which happened to be my birthday, but my father was on a business trip and hasn't come back yet. I can't help but think of the poem "I miss my relatives twice during the festive season" written by the poet Wang Wei in the Tang Dynasty. "Ding Dong" heard the familiar doorbell, and I rushed to open it. Opening the door, I saw, "Dad!" I was overjoyed and jumped into my father's arms. At this moment, my father took out a pen from his briefcase and said it was for me. I am ecstatic. This pen is very beautiful. On the surface, it is China's national treasure-the giant panda. The giant panda is eating bright green bamboo. So cute! This pen is not only beautiful, but also easy to use. It writes fluently, and you won't get tired of writing with this pen. I can't put down this perfect pen.
The next day, I took it to school to open my eyes to my classmates, who were shocked. An unexpected thing happened to me when I came back from physical education class. My panda pen is missing, and I am in tears. When the students learned about it, they talked noisily. After listening to the students' comments, I was even more anxious and called the teacher. When the teacher tried to search the schoolbag, my deskmate Xiaodong blushed and sweated. I doubted him at first, and finally, as I expected, my pen was really in his bag. Xiaodong quickly explained to everyone: "This is my pen." "Who believes? This is obviously mine, "I said, and we quarreled." Xiaodong, admit it when you know it! " The teacher said, "What a good boy!" "Xiaodong repeatedly explained," That's really mine ... ""Xiaodong, you have to admit that you took something from others! " The teacher yelled at Xiaodong loudly, and Xiaodong shed tears. When I got home, I found my pen in my pocket. In the afternoon, I hurried into the classroom to apologize to Xiaodong, but it was too late because the teacher said Xiaodong had transferred to another school. I picked up two identical pens and sighed. Tears welled up in my eyes and shed two lines of tears of regret.
I really regret why I didn't figure it out and blame Xiaodong. I really hate myself. I lost a friend for a pen. I want to cherish these two pens, just like my friendship with Xiaodong, but also like a thorn in my heart. When I was lying in bed, I remembered my story with a pen, and tears flowed down and into my mouth. It's salty ...
The story of the pen constitutes 3. The old grandfather always shed crystal tears and recalled the old things of being a son. He smiled.
But now that I am old, what can I do? When my son grows up, I should let him fly by himself. I held him back. I really shouldn't have gone to him. Let's leave now. I can only hope that he will not take the road of crime. As a father, I can feel at ease even if I die.
The old man was wearing shabby old clothes and trousers, and passers-by suddenly noticed that he had no shoes and his feet were red and purple with cold. The old man is really too cold. His chest is close to the wall, he thought. "I will leave this world sadly, I really want to give up!"
Grandpa fainted on the side of the road. ...
I have asked many people what attitude we should take to study. Is it difficult to interpret the truth edited by the author and exhaust the password through words? I still attach importance to my own decoding process, although this process is likely to infiltrate too much subjective experience, values, cognition, attitude and emotion. The former is often desirable but not desirable. Without much experience, it is difficult for us to feel * * *, and we are likely to face over-interpretation. Sometimes, is the author willing to let readers read all about himself? Of course, it is undeniable that the process of trying to decode is novel and interesting. By reading the author's biographies and other works, the author is gradually shaped into a complete role. When all the evidence becomes mutual support, we have unspeakable joy. But we should not deny that the latter is also a valuable attempt. After all, people have the same emotional experience in many ways. Maybe we can look at other answers and other ways of looking at the problem. Reading can make us more aware of our life experiences and deep assumptions. When our thoughts get a new enlightenment, maybe we will also show a knowing smile on our faces.
The Austin Reading Club told six short stories, and everyone found an example in life from our beloved Austin novels. Austin is even guiding them out of the difficulties in life. I like your personalized interpretation of Austin's text. In fact, there is no difference between high and low views. As long as it can stimulate others' new ideas, it is a valuable point of view. For example, when discussing Charlotte Lucas, allegra hinted that she might be gay. Sylvia said, "This is an interesting statement. The characters may have a side that the author doesn't know." It's really an interesting attempt to appreciate a different taste from some details.
I feel that European and American film and television works have the shadow of psychoanalysis in the deep interpretation of characters. For example, Prudie is so picky, pays attention to the taste and high style of life, wears classical clothes, despises the decoration of young people, reads classic novels, teaches French and writes articles with classical rhetoric, but her mother is really such a vulgar and uneducated person. He has no father. In such a growing environment, she seems to have gone to two extremes with her mother, thus going to another balance. Greg likes older women because his family has been surrounded by women since childhood, and he has two sisters. Allegra's love of adventure may be that she is eager to get more attention from her parents. According to Satya's intimate relationship theory, children make their parents stand on the same front through efforts that they don't even realize, thus maintaining their feelings.
Everyone is suffering from all kinds of troubles in life, just like those depressing scenes at the beginning of the film that make people feel the same. And this kind of trouble comes from accidental bad luck, and the complicated interpersonal relationship between people comes more from the process of getting along with themselves and their hearts. The problems left over from our childhood have caused contradictions in our own personalities in our lives. Solving interpersonal problems is tantamount to a kind of cultivation. For example, jocelyn always arranged other people's marriages, always escaping from his own feelings. Greg said that she just likes to be obeyed and never considers other people's real thoughts. Sylvia thinks that she doesn't like to settle for second best and always wants to find a perfect love. Is that she is always lonely.
I like the book club. It's very free. Every gathering place is a relaxing place, such as coffee shop, restaurant, home and beach. Read intensively every month, urge and encourage each other, inspire others with new ideas, and freely put forward your own ideas, without paying too much attention (although it will be a little uncomfortable if there is someone like Prudie in the group). What I like better is that they share their lives in the form of letters. This kind of reading club is not only an in-depth exploration of hobbies, but also the inner closeness of every reading club member. We share our thoughts and lives.
One night, the blackboard, eraser and chalk were arguing about who had the greatest credit.
The eraser proudly said to the chalk first, "My contribution is the greatest, because if you write a wrong word, you will use me to erase it."
Chalk unwillingly said, "If I don't write, then you are useless, and you have no meaning of existence, so my contribution is the greatest."
The blackboard is not convinced. It roared loudly, "Little blackboard, what are you proud of?" ! Without me, there would be no place to write on the chalk. If it weren't for me, you would have been laid off. What is the value of your existence? "
They quarreled until midnight, and they were red in the face. None of them can find their own shortcomings.
The next day, the teacher wanted to write with chalk, but neither the chalk nor the blackboard agreed, because they were all concerned about last night's events, so the eraser just lay there quietly and motionless. Day after day passed, and teachers and students were very worried.
The younger brother on the dining table and the younger sister on the stool see everything in their eyes and keep it in mind. They said to them: "Now the students' grades have dropped greatly, because they can't see you every day. You should unite as one, learn from each other's strengths and improve your grades!" Hearing this, they blushed. From then on, they lived their old life again, and Qi Xin worked together to serve the teachers and classmates!
The story composition of the pen 6 Qin Er looked at the yellow paper and knelt down gently at it: Mom, I was wrong.
When she was a child, Qin felt that her mother was very kind to her. However, things soon turned around. When she was five, she hated her mother. That night, my father didn't come back and my mother didn't cook at home. I made Chin cry because she was hungry, but my mother ignored her. She went out alone for a while to prevent Chin from crying. Late at night, Chin was hungry and tired, and fell asleep in a daze. After a while, she heard her father's voice and rushed out. Just when she wanted to talk, she fell to the ground softly. When my father saw it, he broke into the house and rushed to the hospital. He was scolded by the doctor: how can a child be hungry? What should he do if he is hungry? Now we can only inject liquid, and we can't let her starve any more, do you hear me?
Qin's son only knew that he was taken home by his father, and then he knew nothing. Chin hated her mother so much that she refused to call her. What are you doing? Dad is the only microphone. With the growth of age, the word "mother" almost disappeared, and my father always attended the parent-teacher meeting. With that time, my father came home on time every day, and Chin was no longer hungry. But Qin Er always sees his mother in the room, sometimes locking the door and writing something in the notebook when it is open.
After school, Chin works very hard and always wins the first prize. Because Qin knows that if her grades are not good, this mother will definitely beat and scold herself. Surprisingly, however, when Qiner was in the third grade, her mother died. Chin was not sad, because she was fed up with the mother's torture, and even before her death, she was not with her.
The story of pen composition The story about pen goes back a long time. When one day human ancestors suddenly had the desire to write or draw things, pens were born.
The story of pen is interwoven in the whole development process of human society, and it is always directly or indirectly intertwined with many things, which are inseparable. When human ancestors left traces on the rock wall, the stone tools in his hand may be called the predecessor of the pen. When that man named Cang Xie created words, the carving knife or wooden stick in his hand might be the prototype of the pen. When the man named Cai Lun invented paper, the writing brush had been used as a writing tool for thousands of years, and it was endless in China. So there was the story of Ma Liang, and the idiom "Wonderful pen gives birth to flowers", so there were Wang Xizhi, Mo Chi and < <
Up to now, pens are not just brushes, but also pens, ballpoint pens and other pens, and even computers are pens in a sense. Let's talk about the brush first. As an ancient writing tool in China, it has left countless calligraphy treasures for the Chinese nation, such as the agility of dragons and the magic of waves, and it is also called Four Treasures of the Study with ink, paper and inkstone.
The writing tool in ancient Europe was a quill pen, which was invented by the ancient Egyptians. Probably because there are many curves in European characters, it is not suitable for writing with soft pen, and it was not introduced to the West like other ancient inventions in China. Quill pens can be dipped in ink and can be written continuously for a long time. Push harder, the strokes of the characters can be thicker, the strokes can be lighter, and the strokes can be thinner. Because of these advantages, it has a long history in Europe. However, it is easy to leak water, and the pen tip will be worn and exposed after long-term use, which is inconvenient for long-term use.
It is said that when an Englishman named Walter Mann signed the contract, his quill pen leaked and stained the contract paper. When he went to get the new contract, another competitor took it away. He was deeply stimulated and decided to design an advanced pen. He invented the pen according to the principle that the capillary of plants transports liquid. Pens have the characteristics of high hardness and are convenient for writing on paper. Horizontal and vertical, very suitable for China people to write.
There is also a short story about the invention of ballpoint pen: a Hungarian named Bike is a proofreader of a printing factory. He found that the newly printed proof contained a lot of water, which would be blurred if rewritten with a pen. In order to overcome this difficulty, he filled a round tube with oily pigment and changed the nib into a steel ball, thus the world's first ballpoint pen appeared.
Ballpoint pen, also known as ballpoint pen, has been popular all over the world in recent decades because of its simple structure, convenient carrying and lubricating writing. The writing principle of ballpoint pen is to use the friction of ball and paper to drive the ball to roll, so as to bring out the ink in the refill and achieve the purpose of writing.
Ballpoint pens are basically divided into two categories: oily ballpoint pens and water-based ballpoint pens. Oily ballpoint pen is commonly known as ballpoint pen, and the steel ball at the tip is made of stainless steel or cemented carbide. The diameter of the ball determines the thickness of handwriting. The most common ball is1mm,0. 7mm and 0. 5mm three kinds. Water-based ballpoint pen is also called ballpoint pen or ballpoint pen. Ballpoint pen has the characteristics of both pen and oily ballpoint pen, and it is an ideal writing tool with smooth writing lubrication and even lines.
Well, the story of the pen is not over until today.
There is a blue pen in the pen case, and cartoon characters are printed on the shell of the pen, which is my favorite. I remember this pen was given to me by a very good friend on my birthday.
You give me that pen and I'll buy you one for free, okay? Seeing my classmate's pen, I couldn't put it down and begged. I won't do it! This pen is my favorite. If you give me a hundred pens, I won't exchange them with you. It seems impossible. I have a very good relationship with him. My classmate lives in Enshi, where things are much better than this small mountain city. His pen is very beautiful, and the cartoon characters on the pen shell are lifelike. I wanted to exchange with him. Unexpectedly, he refused to beg.
I can't do anything about such a stingy friend as him. I was secretly angry with him.
We went to a boarding school, and everyone was very close. Students' birthdays, as long as they are not holidays, will be celebrated at school. Sharing birthday cakes and happy birthdays with students certainly does not mean; Just sending a greeting card or a notebook is not enough; In short, everyone will come up with their own ideas.
My birthday is coming, and I think I can make a lot of money from it. My parents ordered me a bigger cake to satisfy those greedy classmates. I imagine what kind of birthday present my classmates will give me. I especially hope to get a cartoon pen like my classmates. Will he give me my favorite pen? Of course not. He is too stingy. I think he is just a miser.
The birthday party has begun, and the presents of the students are all ready. I'm waiting to receive them. When the students saw that I had brought the cake, their mouths were watering. Of course, the normal order of birthdays is still step by step. After blowing out the candles, they gave me all the presents and scrambled to eat the cake. When I look at the gifts I received, one of them is the most special. A layer of toilet paper is wrapped in a strip with tape wrapped around it. It also says happy birthday! . What is such a strange thing? I can't wait to open it. It turned out to be the cartoon pen I always wanted. I am very happy. I didn't expect him to give it to me in this way, which made me smile from ear to ear. Suddenly I feel that he is really nice and buddy.
It turns out that I am the most stingy person in life and I am very stingy with my friends. I get angry when my friends don't give me what I like. I'm ashamed of myself.
This pen, which I have always treasured, not only entrusted me with sincere friendship, but also taught me how to be a man.
The story of pen composition 9 nights, dead of night, huh? Why is there so much noise in Xiaoming's pencil box? It turned out to be the first time to fight for a pen.
First of all, the host, Miss Tugaiye, pretended to be on the stage and began to speak: "Ladies and gentlemen, the first pen competition conference begins now." As soon as the words were finished, the members in the pencil box gave warm applause. "Quiet, quiet" "Next, please welcome No.1, Mr. Pen from the blue team, Mr. Pen from the red team No.2, and finally, please welcome No.3, Mrs. Pen Cap from the green team! From now on, this is our first round of competition. Text collision, countdown to 30 seconds, go!
The first one said, "I am the most useful." Without me, I can't write or absorb ink. You are a pile of scrap metal, and you can't compare with me at all. " At this time, the pen cap and the pen container each inserted a sentence: "If it weren't for my pen container, you wouldn't know where it is." The cap of the pen says, "Without me, you will do it even if you suck ink." I'm still the most useful, he said, rolling his eyes. Although the pen cap can keep the ink from drying, the pen holder can press me to keep the ink from drying. I have three advantages. First, I can write beautiful words, second, only I can absorb and put ink, third, I can't call a pen without a pen, so I am more important than all of you. La la la! "You, you, you." The pen container ran away and the first pen meeting stopped.
The next day, the owner found that there was no pen container, so he threw the pen into the dustbin. Both the pen and the cap are very sad. At this time, the pen finally understood that they were indispensable, but it was too late.
Pen 10 Story Composition Open a book at a time, a delicate bookmark slips from the book, and a long-lost story is staged in my heart, a story about reading.
When I was a child, I didn't like reading. I thought it would be better to invite some classmates to play with a big and thick book, but my grandfather's brother Dechang often lets me read it. Because in his eyes, he must study hard and have a future.
One day, he asked me to read it again. I just invited some friends to play on the swing that day. Of course, I refuse to read. So, he quarreled with me, and we were flushed. I have never seen him so angry. Finally, my mother came back, but I still didn't make it. My friend ignored me because of this, too. So, from that day on, I planted the fruit of resentment, and I wanted to get back at him.
Finally, it's time for revenge. I deliberately folded some books in the yard. He always walks without looking at the ground. I snickered in my heart. I hid in my room and waited for him to come. Later, he really stumbled, only to find that he struggled to get up, then sorted out the books one by one, held them in his arms, and limped to the study and folded them. In a flash, my heart ached. He was old, and he had a bad fall. However, I let everything happen, and I feel particularly guilty. Looking at his care for books, I understand his painstaking efforts to make me study, his pure love.
After that, I never hated reading. In autumn and October, there will always be bursts of laughter under the old banyan tree. Dechang guild and I stood under the banyan tree, holding a book and reading it with relish. Laughter, reading and speaking are all condensed at that moment. We all felt very happy at that time.
Soon, I went to school, and I no longer had time to study with Duke Dechang. My busy student life soon made me forget him. Until one day, grandpa cried and said that he had died of cirrhosis. His death was too sudden. At that time, tears flowed on my face, and the laughter of the past was staged in my mind again and again. I flew to the banyan tree and watched the leaves wither, thinking of everything about him. ...
Thought of here, I shed tears again. This wonderful reading story is not perfect because of his death, but I believe that the reading story will not end because of it, and the following stories will be more exciting.