My father's hand has been with me for 12 years, which has made me grow from a naive child to a good boy with excellent academic performance.
Dad's hands are warm. When I was a child, I always kicked the quilt when I slept. At this time, my father will hug me with warm hands, pat me gently and sing my favorite songs until I fall asleep.
Dad's hands are wide. I want to be a pilot since I was a child, and I can fly in the blue sky with a plane. Whenever my father gets off work, I always clamor for my father to lift me up and fly the plane. My father will hold me high with strong hands and make a gesture of "indiscriminate bombing" in the room. At this point, the mother was on pins and needles, reminding her father to be careful from time to time.
Dad's hand is a source of encouragement for my progress. Once, my teacher recommended me to take part in a children's calligraphy competition. Although I practiced it many times at home, my hands were still shaking when I came on stage. You know, this is the first time for me to show my grace to so many people. At this time, I only heard a burst of applause from the audience. Ah, how loud and powerful a pair of applause is, how familiar it sounds! I turned around and searched in the vast sea of people. Ah, it was my father standing under the stage. I was full of confidence at once and wrote a few vigorous and powerful Chinese characters-Father's love is boundless! That time I won the first prize in the children's calligraphy competition.
Behind every success, there is always a pair of hands that give me courage and increase my confidence, and that is my father's loving hands.
Chapter Two: Father's hand goes out of Luo Zhongli's father and stops in the background of Zhu Ziqing.
Every time I see my father's big hand, I feel warm. I remember when I was a child, every time I walked with my father, my father would hold my little hand tightly, while I was jumping happily. We are like two birds. I am a bird, and my father is a big bird. The big bird protects and loves the bird.
Whenever my father explains a question to me, his big hand will open in my notebook. He pointed and circled, and his big hand kept moving and turning. Is so kind.
Whenever I fail in the exam, my mother always blames me, while my father helps me. His hand is the savior, touching my head, patting my shoulder and saying, "Never mind, just try harder next time!" "
Whenever I walk in the ice and snow, it is a feeling of happiness, happiness, beauty and warmth to hold my father's big hand tightly, which is a kind of dependence.
People say that my father loves silence, and so does my father. He is not so eloquent, but his hands can make me understand my father's hard work.
As the days passed, my father became old. When he was a child, his hands were big, white and fat. Now, his skin is slack. He bid farewell to youth and entered middle age for me.
Father's love is a mountain, guarding the fire of life; Father's love is fire, which lights the lamp of hope; Father's love is a lamp that illuminates the way forward; Fatherly love is the way to lead your life. My father turned his hands into a mountain, a fire, a lamp, a road and a little fatherly love, which accompanied me every minute.
Chapter 3: Father's hands people all say: "Motherly love is gentle, and fatherly love is firm as a mountain." My black hair is mixed with a few white hairs. My face is a little black, but my eyes are bright. That's my father. In my heart, the most unforgettable thing is my father's rough and powerful hands.
Father's hands have no smooth and moist skin. Forty years of wind, frost, rain and snow have left a series of gullies on my father's hands, which are shallow but clearly visible. My father's hands are dry and rough, like pine bark, but it is these hands that make me feel the tenderness of my father's love and are the escalators on my growth path. Because of it, my road is stable. When I was a child, my father always held me with his strong hand, amused me and played with me, bearing the joy of my childhood.
Dad's education level is not high, but who would have thought that his father with low education level has a pair of extremely dexterous hands. The lights and furniture in my house are broken, and we never hire a repairman. My father went into battle himself and it was done in a few minutes.
Growing up, what I hate most is red pepper. No matter how my friend's red pepper tastes in any food, I will never eat it, and even feel sick. But one day, I was caught by a smell in the kitchen. It turned out that dad was frying shredded potatoes with red pepper and added some seasoning. I spit out my tongue when I went in, but I couldn't resist the tempting smell when I ate it, so I picked up chopsticks and stuffed some shredded potatoes into my mouth. It smells good and spicy! This feeling is really good! Since then, my father has used his cooking hand to let me try red peppers wherever there are, except that I won't eat them. Writing here, I can't help secretly admiring these "omnipotent" big hands.
When I was a child, it was these hands that shook the cradle for me, made me happy, dragged me to learn to walk, stroked my little head every day and told me how to do math problems. Now, it is these hands that tell me the truth of being a man.
These hands grew up with me. They may no longer be stronger than ever, but they must be more determined than ever. It may lose its passion in youth, but it will certainly mature in middle age; He may not be as clever as before, but he must be more careful than before. This is my father's hand, a pair of warm, smart and wise big hands, guarding and supporting me every moment for 365 days, sending me to the other side of success.
My father's hand touched my heart.
At night, I went to sleep dimly and the door was quietly opened. I was confused to see my father coming. He covered me with a quilt with his big warm hands. When I was attacked by the cold, I suddenly became warm.
When I was a child, I liked my father's hands. Although they are rough and hurt a little when touching my head, I don't mind. I like my father's hands. After school, my father's hands are a pair of comforting hands. I was bullied or wronged by others. My father often touches my furry little head with his kind and warm hands. When he comforted me, I laughed at once. Isn't that because I love dad's hands?
Finally, time passed little by little and matured. I can no longer rely on my father's hand to comfort me, but the heavy study has gradually made me forget my father's hand and the rich feelings and infinite memories contained in it. But when I often find more scars on my father's hands, I can't help but feel very sad. I thought again, can I really forget those hands? That's my father's hand!
This semester is coming to an end. In the evening, I was so tired and upset that I burned the midnight oil. Why does my father revolve around me again? I'm getting impatient. Father habitually stretched out his warm hand and touched my head. After all, I can't stand it. I turned my head and shouted at my father, "You are so annoying! Can't you see I'm busy? " My father was stunned first, then smiled and said, "OK, OK, I'll go, I'll go."
I can't forget my father's smile. Why does my father laugh? Laughter makes me feel guilty, because my father's smile is obviously helpless and sad. My heart is no longer calm.
In fact, I am tired and don't want my father's hand to touch me and comfort me! At this time, my heart was shaken. Yes, I really can't forget my father's hands My heart is calling ...