Growth is a familiar word. Everyone is growing. Growth can be varied. When we are educated, when we know our mistakes, or when we are tempered by difficulties, we will grow. ...
I still remember when I was in the first grade of primary school, I heard the adults talk about the 16th National Congress, but I didn't know anything about the 16th National Congress. One night, when I was eating and watching TV news with my relatives, my grandfather asked me a question: "Ningning, what is the 16th National Congress?" I replied, "Sixteen adults are in a meeting." Hearing this, the relatives laughed. Dad told me, "Ningning, the 16th National Congress is the 16th People's Congress convened by the party and state leaders."
Now, I have grown up, and I am already a fifth-grade pupil. I am no longer the "little cute" who knows nothing. I can tie my hair, choose my own clothes, tidy my room and go to school by myself ... I also help my mother do some housework when I am free. When my parents are tired, I will massage them with my little hands.
Aunt worked overtime yesterday. She brought my brother to my house and asked my mother to take care of him for a day. Unexpectedly, grandpa called to say that grandma was not feeling well and asked her mother to accompany her to the hospital. Helpless, I can only take care of my brother's errand. My mother was worried when she left, urging me to take good care of my brother. After mom left, the naughty brother jumped up and down on the bed for a while, then picked up the broom and said, "Here comes my old grandson!" " "One after another dangerous action, sono.. I think my brother likes to listen to the story of the Monkey King, so I tried my best, and my brother really listened with relish. Then, I taught my brother to put together puzzles, draw pictures and do math problems ... Soon it was four o'clock in the afternoon and my mother came back. Seeing this scene, a gratified smile appeared on her face.
Now, I feel that I have really grown up and can solve many things independently. I hope we can face up to the difficulties, overcome them tenaciously and make continuous progress in the future. This is the real growth.
My growing diary.
I am thinking about the definition of growth. Not proportional to age, no.
Time is really a good thing. If you don't know the narrative order.
There is no memory before the age of three, yes, there is no memory. The story only exists in photos, and adults can tell it. Whether you are happy or not, right or wrong, is like listening to other people's stories and making irrelevant jokes.
I don't care, but I miss it. Without memory, you can think blindly and say that beauty is beauty.
I think the real growth is from the age of four. Some people call it calligraphy, a very atmospheric word with a sense of artistic accomplishment in it. I can only draw, and the pleasure of running water is soft and painless.
It still hurts. I will write as seriously as I talk to myself, but I hate being forced. Be bound in a small space to do things you don't want to do. I can't remember why I got bigger for the first time. I just vaguely think it has something to do with some small strokes.
From then on, I began to know how to hate, and ordinary emotions stirred my heart like a flood. From being very girly to hating calligraphy to hating mother. Write dirty words in your diary, the dirty kind, and then slowly realize that dirty words can stab people's hearts without a dirty word, and finally change them back. Swearing can be shocking, indulgent or painful. It hurts until it bleeds, but it never sacrifices.
Growing up in recycling, the growth is like this. Maybe I paid too much attention to details and lost a lot of beautiful weather. I am a child who is not good at words. I have nothing but my heart and pen. My words often hurt people. This language is not described. As for the environment, I think I live in a beautiful world. Animals that kill each other are suffocating and smelly.
The wind swept away and the sky was dry and quiet. The golden cicada is still at the window. The flickering cry reminds me of a dead autumn night.
I'll be happy to provide you with the answer. If you have any questions, please ask. If you are satisfied, please comment. Thank you.