One thing that moved me
Living in this world, there will always be many things that make people feel sentimental and emotional. The world is not ruthless, people are always There are feelings between people just because they get along with each other. Some get along well and some don't get along well. This is a very real phenomenon!
There are many things that moved me the most:
When I was a child, my father pumped milk for me and fought with the shepherd’s dog in the ice and snow. My mother said it was very funny. But I am really touched. This often insists on my reasons for living. Because of these, people should live better! When I was a child, my father was a soldier. He was always upright, which is what I yearn for now. The sentries there often teased us. My mother often said that I almost died when I was a child. Later, I was saved by the commander's daughter, who was a doctor. Well, I've always been curious, why does it have to be the commander's daughter to be a doctor? Why can't other doctors save me? It must be very troublesome, so I'm always very touched. I am touched that my life is good. When I was young, I was really in trouble. I remember I often got sick, every week, so my father would often come back from the army to take me to the hospital for medical treatment. He would also often remember to stop military vehicles and sometimes take a jeep.
When I was in elementary school, I was sick once. On the way back, I couldn’t walk and walked very slowly. Later, the teacher told my mother about it and my mother carried me home. I remember that at that time It’s grown quite a bit too!
My parents have always been very good to me. When I was young, I was often scolded and sometimes beaten. Well, when I think about it, the family rules at that time were a lot of no, no going into the river, no fighting, and so on. , so now I have to abide by everything, and sometimes I feel very happy if I violate it!
Now that I think about it, when I was in junior high school, high school, and college, I often talked back to my parents and made them angry. Now that I am an adult, I often still think about the gift my father gave me when I was in college. When I go to school, I always insist on going by myself, but he is always worried, so he will argue again! My father is very capable, but I am very poor, so I often think about doing my own thing without the help of my parents. Sometimes I often think, he is a big tree, and I am like a tree under its shade. When will Hou can grow up, what about transcending?
He went to the Party School in Beijing, and he did this for half a year or a year. He wrote to his mother, and I took the reply and remembered that he always asked us to study hard. It seemed that we were always stupid and couldn't do it. Learning is the same, well, isn’t it useless in the eyes of my father?
Some time ago, I showed my father "Information Technology Education" where my article was published, but he didn't want to read it. My mother said it was necessary to read it, so he got reading glasses to read it. Alas, it's a pity. What I write is courseware design. How can I make my dad understand this? Anyway, he read a few pages carefully and didn't express any opinions. However, he said that publishing articles in national magazines was a good thing and encouraged me to write more. Alas, it would be great if writing articles was so easy! I remember that my father used to be a reporter, secretary, and could also take photos, so I must have taken a lot of them!
One year I was published in "Liuzhou Daily" and asked my dad to help me collect a few photos as souvenirs. He was always very calm and said that I was late and Liuzhou Daily was sold out. But I asked my sister to find one for me, and I still remember it.
Sometimes I often think about when I can surpass my father’s ability. How can he be capable, so I always let him look down on me. Alas, living in this kind of eyes, sometimes I don’t want to look back. Home
You must be capable, be a good person, live a good life, and live a happy life. When you encountered difficulties in the past, sometimes you would not be able to figure it out, but you always think of it, since there are so many Things can be experienced, why can't we live well?
My mother often said that if you were a child, you would have died a long time ago if you had not been rescued by a doctor. Alas, if you died so early, what happiness would there be? So in my heart, I just want to have fun, visit various places in China, see things, and walk around. At the same time, I just now think of working hard and being a useful person. My reaction is always slower than others. It took me many years to figure it out. problematic. I often wonder why it takes me a long time to figure out many problems. Sometimes it takes a year or several years!
Anyway, live a good life. Although you may not have to take responsibility when you go to heaven, there are still too many worries in this world, so you can’t leave and you can’t bear to leave.
Live and face it!
My parents moved me
The bright moon is brighter because of the night sky; the stream is clearer because of the pebbles; the flowers are clearer because of the green grass. And more gorgeous. Open the window and look at the night sky. The stars are shining brightly, adding gorgeous brilliance to the night. There is still a breath of love on the earth...
The topic of parents is ancient but more eternal, different. People always have different experiences and feelings. From ancient times to the present, many literati have written about the greatness of mother's love and the tenacity of father's love. Like Meng Jiao's "Wandering Son's Song" and Zhu Ziqing's "Back View". The love I have experienced from my parents has no trace of the wind, and true love is silent. The kindness of my parents inspired the warmth of my soul.
The year I graduated from elementary school, the entire sixth grade had accumulated a strong learning energy. Not to be outdone, I increased my power and started reviewing intensively. But unfortunately, at this time, I have to prepare for the final exam, plan the program for the "June 1" Children's Day, practice table tennis to participate in the competition, plus the Tianli School entrance exam, every day I am like a The machine that broke down was working non-stop without a moment to rest. But in the end, I got good grades in the final exam, stole the show on the stage, became more and more courageous on the court, and was admitted to Tianli School with high scores. What is it? Give me so much strength to overcome all these obstacles, and give me so much courage to overcome all difficulties? It's love! It was my parents who gave me a steady stream of encouragement, allowing me to stand up many times in the face of discouragement and regain my confidence.
When the school bell rang every day, I rushed to the playground at a very fast speed and started rehearsing each performance. My parents always smiled and watched me busy on the stage. A subtle breath of love shot into my heart like a ray of sunshine. After the rehearsal, I grabbed the ping-pong board and ran to the ping-pong table. Under the training of Teacher Zhang, he practiced chipping, spinning, lifting, mixing and various methods of serving and catching the ball. Sometimes my parents are admiring my playing skills. I often can’t help but secretly look at my parents with a look on my face. The encouragement from parents to their children contained in the exchange of eyes slowly integrates into my body. . I was sweating profusely from playing, and the sky was completely dark, so I quickly ran home, and accompanied by my parents, I started another process - solving mathematical problems. Sometimes, we grabbed the book and read the problem attentively; sometimes, we discussed it enthusiastically at the dinner table; sometimes, we held the pen in hand and concentrated on the problem calculation on the draft paper... All the problems were solved in front of our family of three. Lying in bed at night, I couldn't help but feel some emotions in my heart - the love of parents is like water irrigating our hearts, pure, holy, without any impurities, but their love is more colorful than spring.
Some people say that love is innate, and family affection is the best model and teacher for us to understand love. No matter how great a person is, he cannot escape the range of love. The reason why human life has no boundaries is because the range of love itself has no boundaries.
If the mother is a stream, maternal love is the spring water flowing in the stream, delicate and gentle.
If the father is a mountain, father's love is the scenery standing on the mountain, broad and profound. ;
I was deeply moved by the love of my parents. Maybe this world is like this, full of touching. Let our emotions settle in our hearts, let our emotions sublimate in the sedimentation, and let our sublimated emotions color the world!
My happy life
I have a happy and happy family. I have a "good girl" in my family. A "shopaholic" mom and a "handyman" dad. Now, let me make the next introduction!
In our clean home, a "handyman" is indispensable, and he is my dad. Every day when I see something broken or dirty at home, my dad always comes forward. I remember one time, my desk lamp was broken, and I hurriedly called my dad. After my dad looked at me, he immediately got the tools and started to repair it. After a clanging sound, my desk lamp was repaired! I was about to say thank you to dad, but dad brought a rag, wiped the lamp carefully, and then asked me how it was. When I saw it, this was a desk lamp that had been used for many years. It was as good as new. I happily threw myself into my father's arms and said repeatedly: "Thank you, good dad!" Dad smiled happily.
Looking at the wardrobe full of colorful clothes of all sizes, I remembered the scene of shopping with my "shopaholic" mother. One day at noon, as soon as I finished my lunch, my mother took me to Xidan without saying a word. I asked my mother: "Why are you so anxious?" My mother said: "There is a big sale in Xidan today." We quickly ran to the third floor and bought 3 pieces of clothes, and then bought a basket of daily necessities. At this time, I seemed to be discouraged. He insisted on asking his mother to go home, and then her mother went home gloomily.
I am a "good girl" at home. I go home from school every day and check my homework carefully after completing it. I help my parents with housework every day. In fact, this is not my instinct. I am the best at taking care of others. I remember one time my mother was sick and my father was on duty, so I decided to take care of my mother. I made tomato and egg noodles for my mother first, and then gently served it to her. My mother was very touched and I was also very happy. After my mother finished eating, she stroked my head and said, "How good, my daughter has grown up!" I felt very happy at that time. The next day, under my care, my mother's condition improved. She always praised me as a good boy when meeting everyone, which made me feel a little embarrassed.
This is our family, a happy family. In my drawer, there is a blue handbag. Although its color is very old, to me, it is more like a piece of the future. The polished jasper is simple and thick, and its light and warm luster always bathes my heart.
It was a Sunday. After my sister and I went to learn calligraphy, we took the bus home together. On the bus, we found a seat by the window and sat down, looking out the window and slowly looking back. The moving scenery makes me feel very comfortable. What a wonderful weekend. In such a relaxed mood, I unknowingly arrived at the stop where we got off the bus. There were many people getting off the bus. I got off the bus along with the crowd of people who got off slowly. Watching the bus slowly drive to the next stop. Then I walked home with my sister. At this time, my sister suddenly looked at me with doubtful eyes and said, "Brother, where is your blue handbag?" I quickly looked at my hands, but they were empty. Where is the bag? In desperation, I couldn't help shouting: "Where's my bag? Where's my bag?" It contained my study tools and some change! My sister thought for a while and said, "You didn't leave it in the car, right?" I also recovered from my anxiety and nodded helplessly. But the car had already driven away for a long time. My sister and I murmured: "What can we do? What can we do..."
At this time, a taxi stopped at our The taxi driver who dropped off passengers next to us might be feeling strange when he saw our two children rubbing their hands anxiously and talking quietly. He came over and asked kindly: "Kid, what's wrong?" I looked at the uncle and said helplessly: "My handbag was left on the 207 bus." The uncle was silent for a while and said: " Get in the car, let’s chase that bus, maybe we can get it back.” So, my sister and I followed my uncle into the taxi and drove towards the next stop of 207. At this time, I only had one thought in my mind: Hurry up, hurry up... My uncle seemed to understand what I was thinking, or maybe he was in a hurry. He sped up and flew forward at lightning speed, with the scenery and pedestrians on both sides passing by in a flash. In my heart, the thought of my bag was like a stone, weighing heavily on me. I no longer had the intention to appreciate the scenery on both sides, nor to talk to my sister. Time passed by in such a sense of oppression.
When we turned another intersection, that bus, yes, that bus, finally appeared in front of us, its indicator light was flashing and it was slowly approaching the stop. At this time, the stone that had been weighing on my heart was finally let go. When my uncle parked the car in front of the bus, I hurriedly opened the door and rushed onto the bus like flying. At a glance, I saw the blue handbag by the window. It was lying there alone, seemingly waiting for its owner to claim it. I suddenly felt the joy and excitement of seeing it again after a long separation or finding it again, so I walked past it in three steps and held it tightly in my hand. However, the conductor looked at me very puzzled at this time, so I hurriedly explained: "I left this behind at the station. The taxi in front of me was the one who just brought me here to pick up my bag." The conductor didn't say anything. , she just looked at the taxi parked in front of the bus, then smiled and nodded.
I took my handbag, got into the taxi, and said to my uncle in a nagging voice: "Uncle, I, my sister and I only have ten yuan a day. Is it enough for your fare?" "My uncle seemed surprised when he heard what I said. He was stunned for a while, and then suddenly smiled: "Haha, I didn't want to collect your money. By the way, I will take you back to where you live." So, I was very embarrassed and told me where I lived.
My uncle sent my sister and I downstairs at home. As if he knew that we wanted to say something like thank you, he rushed ahead and said to us: "Go home quickly, maybe your parents I'm in a hurry. Don't throw things away in the future, haha." We nodded, got out of the car, and looked at our uncle's car. After a while, it merged into the traffic and was no longer distinguishable. He was so ordinary, and suddenly there was a trace of sadness in his heart.
A year later, I got a new handbag, but after that blue handbag was retired, I kept it in a drawer and was reluctant to throw it away, because there were still some things in it. Treasure the warm and kind heart of my uncle.
A kind of beauty is called giving up time:
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Every time you give up silently, give up a friend who you have loved for a long time but have no destiny; give up someone Something that involves investment but yields nothing; giving up some kind of spiritual expectation; giving up some kind of thought. At this time, a kind of sadness will arise, but this sadness does not prevent us from starting over.
Listen to the music again in a new time and space; tell the story again! Because this is a natural farewell and giving up, it is full of detached spirit, because of the beauty of sadness!
I once had a feeling that I wanted to make it forever. After many years, I found that it had gradually disappeared. Later I realized: What we hold in our hands may not necessarily be what we really have, and what we have may not necessarily be what we really engrave in our hearts! Then I understand that life often requires a pair of quiet care and conscious giving up!
There are too many beautiful things and wonderful people in the world. We have been struggling to pursue the beauty we do not have. In order to obtain, you are busy, and what you really want and want will often only be understood after many fleeting years, and you may even spend your whole life without knowing where you will end up! And for the good things we already have, we are anxious and worried because of the experience of often gaining and losing them.
The sigh of the setting sun, the worries of flowers blooming and falling, life is inherently unhappy! Because when we have it, we may be losing it, and when we give it up, we may be gaining it again. In fact, we cannot have absolute certainty about everything. If you are dedicated to chasing and possessing, it will be difficult to get out of external objects and then yourself, and the involuntary sadness and sadness in life will be even heavier!
So life needs to sublimate a quiet and detached spirit. People who understand know how to give up, people who are sincere know how to sacrifice, and happy people know how to transcend! When after a few years we know that everyone we like is living a good life, we will be even more satisfied! "I did not come to this world because of you, but I am more attached to this world because of you. If I can be with you, I will walk away silently, but I will still not lose my love and gratitude for this world - gratitude God allows me to meet and part with you to complete a poem created by God! "Life gives us endless sorrow; it also gives us eternal answers. So, An Ran gives up and sticks to detachment!
No matter how the worldly life changes, no matter what personal choice is, no matter how important the things in our hands are, we are brave even though we escape, and we are sad but happy!
Giving up is not retreat, it is just making another choice for a new goal. Life is about constant pursuit and constant giving up. We are yearning for the depths of life as usual, we are giving up gradually as usual, and then becoming firmer!
I will always wake up at night and open up tomorrow without you. -----------How far is eternity?
The sad drizzle gently beats this spring, pattering like a lover's cry, moistening the sky and making it sad. This season's wind, with a slight regret, blows through every corner, awakening any seed sleeping in this world.
Unable to withstand the temptation of rain, I walked in the rain, wandering quietly, thinking of the beauty of moistening things silently, which could not hide my heartbeat at this moment.
The winter jasmine flowers on the roadside also bloomed early, and the small yellow flowers bloomed happily, you next to me, and I squeezed you, all vying for the care of this spring; the oleander buds swayed gently in the rain , seems to be shy, dodging my eyes, here and there are fragments of a flower, as if secretly peeking at me, a person who doesn't understand flowers, I think of a sentence: When the mountain flowers are in full bloom, she will be there. The laughter in the bush is nothing more than that; on the gentle willow branches, the old leaves have not faded away, but they are supported by the new green, leaving the treetops and returning to their own land. It has always been like this and has not changed.
Looking up, the sky that should have been bright turned out to be so gloomy, reminding me of the long-precipitated death. This is a beautiful season, and I don’t want my mood to be infected by this beautiful scene. Comedy, so all I can do is to bring her the rarest beauty and embellish this blossoming spring day to her heart's content.
Because I want to remember that I have been here this spring without sadness, which is so good.
Suddenly, I stopped there, and the coming and going of brokenness hit me. I was like a kind of small boat, drifting, unable to reach the shore, but I still tried my best to maintain myself and not let myself go. Knocked down by the wind and waves.
I like to do things casually. I just muddle along in a superficial way. I don’t want to get entangled with anyone or anything. It’s enough to have a small hobby of my own. Greed and the ink-scented tea cup During this time, feasting and feasting are not what I want.
I want to learn to paint, which seems to have been planned for a long time, but it is vaguely a bit far away. I always want to do all the things I like while I am alive, at least at the moment I leave. , I won’t have the slightest regret, because we all know that if you do something, the result is irreversible, so let it be buried with you. I still want to learn guitar, so I can quietly Play your own heart, compose a song or a word for yourself, let yourself flow happily with the music, and be accompanied by your sweetheart all the way...
In this rainy season, what I feel most is parting. Although I haven’t spent much time here, I deeply like the people here, the things here, the flowers and plants here, and everything here. I can’t let go of that beautiful encounter. If there is a chance in the future, I still want to go back to school to make up for the youth that has grown old with the wind. I want to penetrate every piece of land here and tell her that I am back.
I always pretend to be ignorant, deceive others, and tell others about my incompetence, as if begging for a little mercy. The funny thing is that I know clearly but don’t take action. , and let it all go to waste, go, go, go, this damn youth with no place to rest, just go with the wasted years, I won’t miss it anymore.
You said it would still be sunny, right?
Looking forward to it.
Flowers bloom in July
The days are counted page by page, and the time passes minute by minute. The sun was awakened by the heat of summer. When I got up early, some old memories crawled on the windowsill, covered up by moss marks and the sound of last night's wind. The light rain that comes and goes wets the wings of dragonflies, but never wets the passionate poems. Sitting in a small house facing south, the wind blows loudly, and the children next door, with their clear and clear children's voices, Knock on a sleeping door.
In the hot summer, I sit in front of the window and watch the sunlight getting closer and closer, and the shadows getting shorter and shorter, perhaps shrinking into a point, shrinking into the round red mole in my life, and even nothing can be found. , the shadow is you or I am the shadow, never forget a moment. Is there a flower blooming in your hand? Slowly, it unfolds its beauty like a brocade, and then slowly withers under the scorching sun, letting the flower's last song face the sea, surrounded by surging wings, blowing The green branches and leaves I have been attached to all my life, I warm my journey day by day.
In July, the calendar was ruthlessly opened by the wind. In July, lovesickness is nowhere to be found. Not only that face, but also that person gradually became blurry. Add a little more water to the cup and put the books in the drawer, but I can't put my thoughts in a bag. On some dark nights, bright and fading fragments float in my mind, and there is a slow mist hiding behind the smile. , Silence is singing: Understand that when you come back, the unverifiable fragrant memory will always be covered with moss. The fragrant beauty has bloomed in spring, the train is far away, and the summer is long. I have forged a body of iron and bronze. In the days of counting the stars, I pretend to give everything back to yesterday.
I always thought that life would be spent like this. I always thought that there was just a plain singing voice coming out of the white window lattice.
Unexpectedly, there will be such an encounter again, the clear eyes, the sad words, the dim background, everything is brilliant because of that moment. The seven-color light is projected on the stretched out hand, which is slender and long. The wind and clouds chattering with the fingertips bloom azure flowers. Oh, time is waiting for me, waiting for me in the misty rainy day, and I am still wandering and waiting, Waiting for you to play the melody of mountains and flowing water in my mind.
Everything you have missed, what you have gained, what you have been waiting for, what you have lost, what is unpleasant, what is unsatisfactory will eventually become nothing at the last moment. July will finally leave. My hands are covered in dust. The petals of July fall all over the path, and the rain of July sprays freely. The streets are cold in July. Walking from one street to another, everything is empty. I can't find the mask of demonstration. It is destined to stand upright on your branches in a simple way. When the pedestrians go away, without applying powder, I bloom into another kind of lotus with clear soup noodles. , for whom do you stop, for whom do you feel sad?
In July, because of your departure, I lost a whole season of love. When the flowers were blown by the wind, they found their bloom. When you left, I found my sadness. It starts at sunrise, rests at sunset, and as night falls, your shadow follows stubbornly. No flame can be found to draw you away, no song can bury you. Hiding deeply, I still can’t escape your confused eyes. Why don’t we sit quietly, see, reflect, and penetrate the faith of time, gradually becoming red, and the wisp of burning clouds on the horizon——
< p>Thousand-year moonlight gradually appears. In July, they bared their teeth and claws in the calm night. Typing on the keyboard, many words came out in a row, some sentences after another. The words were like steel needles, piercing into the skin and the internal organs, causing pain in the heart and lungs all the time. It's like some musical notes blooming in the darkness, sometimes high-pitched and sometimes low-pitched. Maybe, following the tunnel of time, I push away the emotional wall and fall into your arms, speechless all night, or even for the rest of my life. You will Hear the words in my heart?The face in the mirror in the morning light is dim because of the scorching sunshine in July, the high concentration of ultraviolet rays and the burning body temperature. No, there are just no lively songs, no exciting words, and no hearty understanding. The flower buds outside the wall renewed the calendar again, and the vivid footsteps of the past were stretched by the corridor of time. The halo of light loomed in the distance, but it was very close to me. Stretching it out, pulling it in, catching your blurry but clear sight. The simplicity of wind and frost first appeared on whose head, one or two clumps, thin and dense, even if the roots were removed, the entangled heart could not be removed.
The leaves fell gently and rustling around me. Some stories go far away, and some stories drift closer. In July in the south of the Yangtze River, there are so many dripping affections. In the south of the Yangtze River, it is still only summer. The flowers are turned upside down, the roses stretch towards the heart of the earth, the rain grows fiercely, the beauty is just words in the end, and the pale back walks out of sight. Have you ever regretted it? The weather here is very cloudy. Have you ever crossed the wall and visited the roses blooming quietly outside the door? Was the lip taken away last year your kiss? The lover I have imagined for many years has been shattered one by one because of you.
In July, you stand in the wind. In the cantabile years, love and flying are another concept. Love needs to be separated to realize that it is an unforgettable thing. However, indifference is also a state of mind. You look focused and you never give up. In this unique scene, your bright singing voice flows, your flowing music pours out, and the emotions accumulated for many years are filled with satisfaction and sweetness through the sound of flowers blooming. On the night of love, you slowly spread out your soft love. wing. I understand the words by heart, and the lost articles converge into peace of mind.
Flowers bloom gradually. The soul is approaching and the water is clear to the bottom. The real smiles are dense and dense, and the realistic language is layered one after another. Through the jungle of years, the refined style makes the flames flying forty miles adorned with glass-like necklaces, the pink butterflies flying in the sky walk hand in hand with the breeze, and the passion and words reveal the most primitive candidness in the nobility of the soul. The flowers bloom silently, testifying to their beauty, the sunshine of July is scorching, and the holy lotuses are blooming in the lines of poems. Looking back brilliantly, another spring blossoms in the faint pain.
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