The Wandering Son rewrites the composition 1 "Mom, I'm back!" Meng Jiao gently closed the door at the door and looked at what her mother was doing from the small window. I saw my mother gather together in front of the oil lamp, holding a dress and sewing it carefully. After sewing for a while, she pulled hard to make sure that the clothes sewn for her son were strong.
Looking at his mother's hunched back, Meng Jiao was more than I could bear. He pushed open the door and went to his mother three times and said, "Mom, it's so late. Don't be too tired. I can sew it myself. " Meng Mu looked up and said, "No, what if you accidentally prick your hand while sewing clothes? And tomorrow, you will go out to work early in the morning, when you have your own job outside. How many days are you going? Come back early after you finish, your mother is waiting for you at home. "
"Well ..." There's no way out. I can only sleep now. In her sleep, Meng Jiao vaguely heard her mother's voice talking to herself: "Alas, this child is busy every day, and it is really hard to go out early and return late." Hearing all this, Meng Jiao's eyes are a little moist.
The next morning, Meng Jiao woke up. Seeing the sewn clothes and breakfast on the table, he knew that his mother had not slept all night. It is said that the love children get from their mothers is like the sunshine in March feeding grass, which can never be repaid. Who says it's not?
In the Tang Dynasty, in a hut in a small village far from Beijing, a mother sewed clothes for her son under a dim oil lamp, and his son read a book under the lamp.
This son is Meng Jiao. He is going to Beijing to take the exam. His mother is sewing clothes for him. He thinks the exam is coming soon. His son doesn't know when he will come back. Meng Mu is absorbed in sewing clothes for his children. She sewed stitch by stitch. I don't know how long the thread took, nor how many stitches she sewed. Meng Mu's eyes are bad, her hands are pierced with many tiny blood holes, and she is still bleeding, but she is still sewing clothes. At this time, Meng Jiao, who was sitting on the side, saw her mother's bleeding finger and couldn't help but go forward and persuade: "Mom, don't sew clothes for me again! Please teach me, or let me sew my own clothes! " "Then what should I do? I sew your clothes because I'm afraid your clothes will be torn on the way to Beijing, and it's not easy to mend them. You are going to Beijing to catch the exam soon. You have to prepare for school, how can you waste time so easily? " Meng Jiao saw his mother's scarred hands and bloodshot eyes with mixed feelings. He wrote this poem:
The mother used the needle and thread in her hand to make clothes for her long-distance son.
All the family lights were blown out, and the people in the small village entered a sweet dream. However, vaguely seen from a distance, Meng Jiao's lights are still flashing. It turns out that Meng Jiao is going on a long trip, and his mother is preparing for him.
In the light, Meng Jiao's mother is busy for Meng Jiao. Mother prepared dry food and water for him. When taking the sweater, her mother found that the sweater was broken and went back to the house to light the oil lamp.
Under the lamp, my mother picked up the sweater and sewed it so carefully, so carefully and so tightly. Ah, the thread was broken, and my mother narrowed her eyes again, sewed the needle and continued sewing. Mother's haggard face was covered with heavy wrinkles under the light.
At this moment, the mother thought to herself, "My son has gone out again, and I don't know when he will come back. I must sew the clothes so that my son can wear more. " Thinking of this, the needle and thread are sewn more densely. Inadvertently, the needle plunged into my mother's hand, and my mother groaned. Although the sound was very small, it woke Meng Jiao who was sleeping.
Meng Jiao saw that his mother was still awake and went over. Mother saw Meng Jiao come in and wiped her blood. Meng Jiao saw this and plunged into his mother's arms with tears in his eyes. He thought to himself, "Grass can't repay the sun's bath, and children can't repay their mother's great love."
"Wandering Song" rewritten composition 4 The north wind roared, the wind was biting, and it was snowy. A dim light came out of a shabby thatched cottage, and at the same time, there was the sound of reading. In the room is an elderly mother and her son who is studying.
The man who is studying is Meng Jiao. And that old mother is Meng Jiao's mother. She is sewing clothes for her son who will have an exam tomorrow. Mother sewed again and again, mumbling, "Alas! I don't know how long it will take this time. It's colder now than in previous years, and there must be a layer of cotton inside. "
At this time, the mother handed the patched and sewn clothes to her son and said, "Go to sleep, and get up early tomorrow." Meng Jiao said, "God, I'm going to read it again." Meng Mu said, "Have you brought all your dry food? Hurry up and pack up what you need on the road. " Meng Jiao said, "We don't need so much dry food on the way. Let me leave some for you. " Meng Mu said, "Son, mom doesn't need it."
The night is getting deep and sleepy, Meng Jiao. What he saw was his mother's gray hair and wrinkles all over her face. He thought: the grass can't repay the kindness of the sun, and it is difficult for the son to repay the kindness of his mother for so many years. Thinking about it, Meng Jiao's eyes filled with tears.
Meng Jiao's emotions welled up in his mind, and he silently read: "The thread in the hands of a loving mother makes clothes for wayward children. Before leaving, I had a stitch for fear that my son would come back late and his clothes would be damaged. However, an inch of long grass is a bit sentimental, and it is rewarded with three spring rays. "
At this time, the cold wind outside is still biting, but the room is warm as spring.
I'm going out for a long trip. I sat at my desk, studying hard by candlelight, and there were some books on my desk. In the candlelight, my old and kind mother also sat at the table, preparing for my long journey. There are lines of various colors on the table, apparently to make a dress for me. Mother picked up the needle and thread and put it on carefully, very carefully. Seeing that my mother loves me so much, I also review more seriously.
Every stitch and thread of my mother has a heartfelt love for her son, which makes me extremely moved.
Before I left, my mother sewed my clothes tightly, as if afraid that I would wear them out. If I have no clothes to wear, if I sew them tightly, I won't wear them out easily. Mom, what a good word!
Perhaps it was because she was worried that she would not come back, or even forgot her mother's existence, that her mother sewed the clothes carefully and seriously. But who knows, my old mother's life is so simple. Her hair was gray and she lost several teeth, but she still took pains to sew clothes for her son. I've been thinking.
I am like those grasses. No matter how hard I work all my life, it is hard to repay the maternal love given to me by such a great mother as Chunhui.
My mother often says to me, "Don't worry about me, just study hard. This is the best gift for me!" " "This sentence has been ringing in my ears. I study harder when I think of what my mother said to me. I can't let my mother down because she loves me. If my name is left in Sun Shan, how can I go back to work?
In a humble hut, a mother is sewing clothes for her son.
A loving mother flies a needle to make clothes for Meng Jiao, who is about to travel far away. The stitches are fine and the sewing is firm. At this time, the moonlight shone dimly into the window, and my mother said worriedly, "I don't know when you will come back from this trip." I want to sew my clothes tighter. " The son said, "Mom, it was not easy for you to raise me since childhood. But now I'm leaving you, alas, my son is unfilial! " With tears in her eyes, her voice trembled and said, "Don't think like this, son. Mom just wants you to come back safely. " At this time, Meng Jiao was moved by this kind of maternal love shining like spring. Yes, a wanderer can never repay his mother's kindness. Gradually, Meng Jiao fell asleep. The mother is still sewing clothes for her son one by one, for fear that her son will not come back. It is said that there is a common custom in Meng Jiao's hometown: when someone is not at home, his mother or wife makes clothes for him. The closer the needle and thread are, the sooner the man will come back.
The next day, mother dressed Meng Jiao in clothes that had been sewn all night, and Meng Jiao's eyes welled up with tears. Then he said goodbye to his mother. On the way, he thought: maternal love shines on my grass like this spring. Can I repay this great maternal love in this way? Thinking about it, he sang a little poem: "The thread in the hand of a kind mother makes clothes for her wayward son's body. Before leaving, I had a stitch for fear that my son would come back late and his clothes would be damaged. However, an inch of long grass is a bit sentimental, and it is rewarded with three spring rays. "
"Ode to a Wanderer" is rewritten into a composition. The cold wind roared into every hut.
This is a hut in a very humble hut. It's broken and short. In the dim light, I saw Meng Jiao reading a book and her mother dressing.
Meng Jiao was dressed in shabby clothes and the lights were dim. He still studies poetry with relish. Mother looked at Meng Jiao with a happy and gratified smile on her lips. She took out the needle and put it on again and again, but her mother was still tireless. By the eighteenth time, I finally got dressed. Mother sewed needle after needle, thread after thread, but accidentally pricked her hand, and blood dripped on her clothes, looking red. Meng Jiao quickly put down the book and said, "Mom, forget it, go to sleep." Mother sighed and said, "Old, old, useless. The suburbs will leave early tomorrow morning, so go to sleep. " Meng Jiao settled his mother and went to bed.
Meng Jiao got up early in the morning and saw her mother knitting that dress. Meng Jiao walked gently to her side, looked at her bloodshot eyes and a pair of veteran's hands, and tears kept flowing down. Mother handed it to me and turned back to her room. Meng Jiao held this precious dress and couldn't say a word for a long time.
Meng Jiao thinks the sky is particularly clear today, and the birds' songs are particularly beautiful, because there is a ray of warm sunshine to accompany him forever, forever!
Meng Jiao was born in Wu Kang, Huzhou, and his family was poor. His father, a small official, asked Meng Jiao to study and become famous as his life goal. However, the examination room in Meng Jiao was not smooth. When he is in his forties, he will go to Beijing to catch the exam.
Huzhou is far away from Beijing, so Meng Jiao will definitely have a hard journey and spend the winter outside. Meng Jiao's mother loves her son dearly, and the night before he left, she was still scrambling to make him winter clothes.
In the dim light, my mother's haggard face was covered with heavy wrinkles. She sewed stitch by stitch, and each stitch was full of love for her son who was about to travel far away. Worried that his son couldn't go home, thinking of bringing his son a cotton-padded coat to keep out the cold, Meng Mu couldn't help but speed up and accidentally got stuck in his finger by the needle tip. But she didn't care. She wrapped it in some cloth and went on sewing. Until the eastern sky was a fish-belly grey, the cotton-padded coat was finally mended. After getting up, Meng Jiao couldn't help thinking, "Mother, your kindness is like the warm sunshine shining on your children in spring, and your children are as weak as grass. How can you repay this kindness? "
Meng Jiao had mixed feelings in his heart and wrote such an affectionate poem:
A traveler's song
The mother used the needle and thread in her hand to make clothes for her long-distance son.
Before leaving, I had a stitch for fear that my son would come back late and his clothes would be damaged.
Who can say that a filial child like the weak can repay his mother's love like the sunshine in spring?
Meng Jiao is a very clever boy. He could write poetry at the age of ten. Meng Jiao's mother was very happy, so she planted the seeds of literature in his heart at an early age.
Meng Mu is a sickly person, but she works all day to train Meng Jiao. Sometimes, she feels dizzy when she works, but in order to save some money, she does not hesitate to make herself suffer, but also to provide education for Meng Jiao. In this way, Meng Jiao's mother ran around all day, hoping to save more money.
In a blink of an eye, ten years have passed, and Meng Jiao is no longer a child, but a scholar who studies hard. One day, Meng Jiao decided to learn from his teacher. Her mother didn't say anything after listening, so she ran back to the house and cried. Her tears kept flowing like broken beads. She was reluctant to part with her son, but on second thought, he was always good at school and could live a happy life in the future. So, she dried her tears and cooked a sumptuous meal for Meng Jiao. She is seeing Meng Jiao off.
After dinner, it was already late at night. There is a faint light in the room. In the room, Meng Mu is knitting a sweater for Meng Jiao. She knitted clothes for her son with the best needle and thread, crying at the same time. Sometimes, she accidentally pricked her finger, but she endured the pain and continued to knit a sweater, which was made of Meng Mu's blood and tears.
When he left, Meng Mu waved, his eyes filled with tears, and Meng Jiao reluctantly turned back step by step. ...
It's late at night and it's dark all around. People in the small village have fallen asleep after a hard day's work. Only Meng Jiao's house is still lit. Because Meng Jiao is going out of town, his mother is preparing luggage for Meng Jiao.
Mother took out some clothes, found a needle and thread, and went to sew clothes for Meng Jiao under the oil lamp.
Mother sat on the kang, sewed the needle, tied a knot, and sewed it carefully by the faint light. She saw that the sleeve was broken and sewed it up. I saw the collar open, so I sewed it tight.
Mother thought, "I don't know when my son will come back from this long trip." I will sew the clothes stronger and let him wear more. " Suddenly, my mother gave a gentle cry. It turns out that my mother was stabbed by a needle. Hearing this, Meng Jiao came over and saw her mother sewing clothes for herself, and she couldn't help crying.
Meng Jiao looked at his mother and thought, "Mother's love is sunshine, and our children are grass. How does the grass repay the sunshine? " Then how can we repay our mother for her kindness to us? "
"Wandering Song" rewritten composition 1 1 Silent night, there is no sound around, because the people in this village have already entered a sweet dream. And only Meng Jiao's house is still lit.
Meng Jiao's mother is helping Meng Jiao pack things at home. Mother carefully took out Meng Jiao's favorite books one by one, cleaned them up and put them in the suitcase carefully. Then he went into the kitchen, packed up the prepared dry food bit by bit and put it in a bag. Suddenly, my mother noticed several holes in the clothes in Meng Jiao's bag, so she took it under the oil lamp and took out a shiny silver thread.
Mother is thinking: My son will come back this time and leave tomorrow. I don't know how long it will take before he comes back. The clothes are torn. What if they get cold? So he sat down and made up one by one. Suddenly, my mother's hand was pricked by a needle, and my mother shrank back in pain. Although the voice was very small, Meng Jiao was woken up. He was very moved to see his mother stay up all night sewing clothes for him.
The next day, Meng Jiao found her mother's eyes bloodshot and couldn't help crying.
Yes, as children, we can't give anything back to our mother. However, as long as you stay with your mother and talk to her all the time, it is the best and most expensive reward for your mother.
Outside, a full moon is embedded in the night sky, and the moonlight shines on the earth through the mist, and the night is as quiet as before.
In the room, you sit quietly, needle by needle, interspersed in that worn cloth, like a thorn in my heart. It's the Mid-Autumn Festival again, but it's the day of parting. I don't know how many days and nights have passed. How many days and nights, only the full moon accompanies you; How many days and nights, you can only sit in front of the door alone, looking forward to getting old. ...
You sew stitch by stitch because you know how many years you have been away. You are afraid that I will come back too late, too late, too late. That's why you sew tighter and tighter.
Mother and son are unfilial and have been wandering for fifty years. When I failed again and again, you stood behind me silently. Fifty years ago, when I stepped out of the house again and again, you didn't complain, you just waited and waited ... You were afraid that before that day came, you could only integrate love into that thread and weave your love. How can every grass and tree repay the glory of spring?
Outside, the wanderer sings at night: a kind mother's thread makes clothes for her wayward son's body. ...
The thread in the hand of a kind-hearted mother makes clothes for her wayward son's body. Before leaving, I had a stitch for fear that my son would come back late and his clothes would be damaged. Who can say that a filial child like the weak can repay his mother's love like the sunshine in spring?
Meng Jiao was going on a long business trip, and his mother was worried that he would catch cold when he went out, so she threw him a dress overnight in disguise. She thought to herself, the suburbs are going on a long trip again. I wonder how long it will take him to come back. I don't know whether this dress will last. If it has a hole, it's not good, otherwise it may catch cold. I have to sew it up for the suburbs. Meng Jiao's mother sewed the clothes quickly by the dim light.
Inadvertently, my mother sewed her finger. Suddenly, blood came out. Meng Jiao, who was reading a book, heard a groan and immediately rushed to have a look. He sucked his mother's finger lovingly, and tears came down. He sat down in front of his mother and said, "Mother, your child is unfilial. You have worked hard." Mother smiled and stroked Meng Jiao's head and said, "Why are you unfilial? As long as you are promising, it is the best reward for me. "
The next day, mother and son will be separated. Meng Jiao held the sewn clothes, and the scene of last night reappeared in his mind. He once shed tears. He thinks it's like grass can't repay the spring sunshine. How can a son repay his mother's kindness? On the same day, he wrote this song: the thread in the hand of a kind mother makes clothes for her wayward son's body. Before leaving, I had a stitch for fear that my son would come back late and his clothes would be damaged. Who can say that a filial child like the weak can repay his mother's love like the sunshine in spring?
A wandering son rewrites the composition 14 "A son travels a thousand miles, but his mother is worried", which is a famous classic saying both at home and abroad.
I'm leaving my old mother again. Looking at that kind old mother, I was filled with emotion. The imperial examination failed again and again. Time is like a fine needle in my mother's hand, drawing wrinkles on her old face. Tomorrow I will embark on the road of imperial examination again, which means I will leave my mother again. The needle and thread in my mother's hand stuck in my heart. By the faint candlelight, the sadness and tears in my mother's eyes were deeply imprinted in my heart, and my heart could not help but ache at this time. "Mom ... I'm leaving tomorrow. When winter comes, remember to put on more clothes ... "Before the words were finished, the old mother's hoarse voice spoke first:" I know I should take good care of my body at home. You should also pay attention to it. Don't be hungry, don't be cold, and don't always think about me. I will sew this dress stronger. I will come back next spring. The night is so quiet that I am full of hope. It seems that I will see my triumphant return next year. With everyone's blessing, I got on the carriage to Beijing with my mother. ...
My mother's cough interrupted me, and she was still sewing needles by candlelight. The so-called "thread in the hands of a loving mother makes clothes for the wayward boy's body". Before leaving, I had a stitch for fear that my son would come back late and his clothes would be damaged. However, an inch of long grass is a little sentimental, and it has won three spring rays. "
Late at night, people in Meihua Mountain Villa entered a sweet dream. Only Meng Jiao's house still has the oil lamp on. It turned out that Meng Jiao's kind mother had to prepare for her son's departure.
She carefully took out Meng Jiao's favorite books and put them in her schoolbag. Then, she put the bag full of dry food into the bag and picked up a thick stack of washed clothes. But the clothes were all broken, so the mother took the clothes under the oil lamp, picked up a shiny needle and a thick and strong thread, and sewed clothes for her son under the lamp.
The button is loose, so mother sewed it up with a needle. She accidentally pricked her hand, and her mother took a breath with her mouth and sewed it again. She thought, "My son has gone and may not come back. I must sew it. "
Some clothes have been worn for a long time, and there have been broken lines and holes. My mother picked up the needle and sewed it tighter and firmer, stitch by stitch. Although mother's movements were small, she woke Meng Jiao up. Meng Jiao saw it in her eyes and was moved.
Mom sewed one by one, and finally it was all sewn up. At this time, it was already dawn. Meng Jiao was very moved when she put on the clothes sewn by her mother. He thought, "As children, we can never repay our mother's care. Motherly love is higher than the sky, deeper than the sea and bigger than the earth; Motherly love is like sunshine, feeding grass, but grass can't return the sunshine. "