Since I was a child, I have had a special liking for calligraphy. My mother is engaged in the framing industry and has many calligraphy and paintings. I have also been influenced by art. My mother asked me what I wanted to learn, and I said without hesitation: "I want to learn to write." When I was young, I watched my mother frame calligraphy and paintings, so I used my young hands to doodle on the paper and solemnly handed it to my mother for framing. The mother looked at it and smiled and said: "If you write well, I will frame it." "Okay." I said.
So I formed an indissoluble bond with writing. I remember when I was in second grade, my mother took me to sign up for the calligraphy class at school. The teacher asked me to try to write. I picked up the brush like a crayon. My clothes got dirty in a short while, and my hands were all stained. It's ink. When I entered the calligraphy class the next day, the teacher officially taught me how to write calligraphy, but my handwriting was crooked, like a defeated soldier on the battlefield, with a droopy head, and like caterpillars on the paper. climb. Look at the eldest sister next to me. The words she writes are like an elf dancing happily on the paper, beautiful and dignified. Like a frustrated rubber ball, I slowly put down the brush, not wanting to write anymore, but whenever I see those big brothers and sisters who can write well, I feel envious. So I made up my mind to write well. Sometimes when I write with sour hands, that envy becomes my motivation to write. No matter how cold it is, you will still see my little hand, which is red from the cold, still holding a brush and scratching on the paper. After writing, my hands are always numb from the cold, but when I see the correct words, I feel extremely proud and proud.
What remains fresh in my memory is the time when I was practicing horizontal strokes. The light brush turned into a heavy rock in my hand, and I couldn't write the unique charm of Chinese characters. But I feel I will not give in to difficulties. I still write stroke by stroke. I still remember the oral decisions that the teacher taught me when writing. I was ecstatic when I saw the delicate and dignified words appear on the paper. Gradually, the crooked characters turned into upright characters. Gradually, the upright characters turned into beautiful and dignified characters. Gradually, the beautiful and dignified characters turned into happy dancing elves playing on the paper. .
Hard work really pays off. Learning to write is like a fire that has given me courage and perseverance. It also made me understand the truth that as long as you have a dream, a goal, and strive towards this goal, success is just ahead.