Life with my mother is like an endless sea. You stand on the shore, looking at the bright future on the other side, thinking about the past, but helpless to let the waves beat, leaving only one person to look forward to the future alone. Don't be depressed, don't be sad, you still have your own patron saint-mother. She is a strong ship, accompanying you across the ocean of life. Calm down, she is with you; The waves are rough, she is with you; After reaching the long-awaited other shore, she is still like a dazzling goddess of sunshine, accompanying you around. As long as you have her warm company, you won't feel the unbearable cold and helplessness caused by the cold wind. Your heart will only be illuminated by her light, as bright and warm as the sun.
Mom, she will grow old, just like a beautiful flower will wither one day. Just ignorant, you think your mother is still your protector, and you still like to snuggle up in her arms. It is not until you grow up that you gradually realize that the wrinkles around your mother's eyes are getting more and more day by day.
The first time I cried, the lips on my mother's pale face raised a beautiful arc, and the hanging heart finally fell down. Beads of sweat have stayed on my mother's forehead for a long time, and your arrival has made it fall safely. When we babble, mother is our first teacher. The first sound of "dad" and "mom" makes mom's smile brighter than the blooming flowers. Mother sent us to kindergarten, and we cried when we left. Mother just gently stroked our heads-almost with zero strength-and then gently kissed our cheeks washed by tears, then took a deep breath and turned her back on us. It took a heavy step and a hard time to leave. Now, I'm sure, at that moment, my mother's tears will rush out like a flood that burst its banks.
In the first grade, my foot was brutally pricked by a rusty nail, and I cried like a wolf. My mother heard the news, flew at the speed of light, picked me up, comforted me and ran to the hospital. The nail is pulled out little by little, and the needle is stuck in little by little. My tears dripped down and fell on my mother's heart, and my mother was distressed. When I got home, my mother carefully and quietly applied the medicine to my wound. She pouted and blew gently to relieve my pain. ...
How much caress, how much kiss, how much tenderness and consideration-mother cares for us with all her love, just like mother kangaroo cares for the baby in her bag. It's time for her to have a rest. However, the rebellious psychology and behavior that followed turned us into hedgehogs, and our closest mother was deeply hurt. My mother helped me buy clothes and asked with concern, what style do you like? And I casually replied: "Just buy what you don't like!" "My words made her heart cool. Whenever my mother sees me depressed and bored, she always smiles and encourages me: Don't lose heart, you are the best! But I repaid her with a "volcano" eruption: "Stop yelling! Just dig at me and satirize me! " A barrage of words cruelly shattered mother blx like handfuls of hammers. But my mother still endured the pain of cone heart, cleaned up her mood alone, and then cared and enlightened me in life, study and psychology as always. My heart of stone melted in warm maternal love after all.
Looking back at the road behind me, next to my crooked little footprints, there are two lines of deep big footprints, half full of love and half full of hardships. Watching, my little footprints gradually become bigger and deeper, leading my eyes far and far ahead, where colorful clouds are everywhere, flowers are everywhere, and butterflies are dancing ...
The days I walked with my mother Composition 2 Everyone has such a mottled memory in his heart, which will not fade even if time washes away. The days I spent with my mother, like a calendar, are equally matched and eloquent.
-inscription
The calendar turns over, page after page, and the past comes to mind, with sad tears, a bright tomorrow's vision and the happiness accumulated by my mother.
Turning to a page when I was a child, I recorded my mother's anxiety and the heavy breathing of my bicycle when I often had a high fever. When I was a child, I was in poor health and often fell ill. Going to the hospital became my daily routine. At that time, my father was working in other places, and it became my mother's most important task to take me for intravenous drip every day after school. When I went to the hospital, my mother's anxiety was intertwined with the heavy rattle of my bicycle, just like a heavy ballad, which hit my heart and made my heart tremble. I sat on my bike, clutching my mother's skirts with both hands, as if I were parked in a warm harbor, floating happily and flowing in the depths of a warm world.
Fingers crossed slowly, turning to a younger page, recording a sad look and a gratified smile. When I was eleven or twelve years old, I had a whim and promised my mother to keep a diary every day. My mother told me with a smile that I must never break my word. When I am free, she will check it. However, at that time, it was the age of fun. Within a week, keeping a diary was forgotten. That afternoon, when I gave my diary to my mother with a little trembling, I thought my mother would severely blame me, but she just gave me a deep look. Those eyes mixed with sadness and a little anger make me feel like a bad student through and through. Tears welled up like a disappointed market, and my mother reached out and hugged me gently. Her gentle words slipped through my ears: "In the future, I must keep my word." I nodded desperately, my eyes were full of firmness, and my mind seemed to be washed by a clear spring, so clear and bright. Now think about it, I was happy at that time, and my mother watered the seeds of my inner integrity.
Time is really a magician. As soon as I turned around, I carved my sentimental side. Turn the calendar to today. When I got home at night, I put down my heavy schoolbag, put on my headphones and sat at my desk, enjoying the melody of the symphony of destiny. It's like a person's joys and sorrows, all of which are skillfully integrated into this piece. Suddenly, a thunder broke everything. Cried the mother. I was so scared that I was shocked all over. Before I came to my senses, I heard a soft voice, like a slow song, reaching to the bottom of my heart: "Study hard and spend your energy on your studies, and you will have a bright future ..." I silently bowed my head and felt guilty. It's like being hit hard by a hammer. No words, but I'm sorry. ...
My mother's gentle words echoed in my ears for a long time ... When I saw the smoke on the roof, I felt the most essential and mellow happiness, which recorded the purest smile I showed after I walked across the bridge between my mother and me.
Calendars will turn from page to page, and happiness will be passed on again and again. Turn over a new page, and you will find that this page will record the happiness that your mother carefully created for you. In the days I spent with my mother, the "calendar" showed the beauty of "happiness" and made everything more perfect.
My mother has been with me since I was born. Looking back now, my days with my mother were the most beautiful scenery, and she was also the most beautiful scenery.
I told her a long time ago, don't go to the classroom when you come to school, it will disturb your classmates and the teacher won't like it very much, so she kept it in mind. Actually, I am selfish. Before, when I first met my mother's classmates, they called me, "Hey, your grandmother is coming to see you!" " ""that's my mother! "This kind of scene has appeared more than once, which is really embarrassing.
So from then on, I stopped letting my mother come to school more.
But, mom knows.
Every time she said she would come to give me something, I refused. Although she smiled, she couldn't hide her loneliness.
"Did Mom embarrass you?" If I use that slight tone, maybe I can accept it, but she is so dull that I feel unspeakable guilt. There is still a faint smile on her face.
She was short of pocket money that week and had it delivered the next day. As a result, no one brought me money Feeling a little angry, but helpless, I thought about going back and saying a few words to her.
However, there are always unexpected things. I vaguely heard someone calling my name, yes, really. I turned around and looked around. Finally caught the little figure in the corner. She hid behind the door, clutching the door tightly, and her black shriveled hands clutched the door frame. When she saw me turn around, she smiled. My mother waved at me, four fingers pointing inward and bending constantly, meaning: you come.
In the face of her sudden appearance, I froze for two seconds and then walked up to her.
She didn't come out from behind the door until she saw me get up from the desk. I walked up to her, and she carefully took out the folded money from her pocket and handed it to me. I took the money with a smile. "Are you okay? If the money is not enough, I will send it again and study hard. " Although she is old, her eyes are still bright, and her eyes are wrapped around me like sunshine outside the window. "Well, it's time for class. You go back first. " Suddenly my eyes were dim, and I broke all her happiness in one sentence, which instantly turned into disappointment and loneliness. The messy gray hair is also sighing.
I turned around and never looked back.
She watched me go back to my seat, and I'm sure how much she wished I could look back at her, even once.
However, when I looked back, she had disappeared, leaving only the empty door frame.
There is warm sunshine outside the window, shining on your body. Even if it is as warm as a thousand, it can't hide the chill of late autumn. Usually careless, she is willing to hide behind the door and whisper my name for my little mind.
It turns out that she has been with me and has been helping me move forward.
When I was a child, despite the poor conditions at home, she always tried her best to buy me the best milk powder; In my childhood, she bought me all kinds of toys and clothes I liked. When I grew up, she gave me encouragement and hope when I was frustrated again and again.
Yes, I have been growing up under the aura of her love. She has been trying to give me the best. She has always accompanied me on this road of life.
But I have to witness her youth, her white hair and her old age, just as she witnessed my birth and growth.
Yes, she has been with me. Even in the dark corner, she was watching me. The days I spent with her were warm, and every bit of these days will be deeply buried in my memory.
Time has passed with my mother for fourteen years.
I once happened to see my mother when she was young in an old house. It was a quiet girl with an elegant face, a purplish flower with a faint smile on her lips. That smile is like a crimson cloud, which seems to disappear in an instant.
I was surprised when I first saw this picture, because my mother's figure is far from what it used to be, and she only has a single eyelid and her face is more bloated. So naive, I often ask around her: "Mom, how beautiful you were then, how fat are you now?" "Maybe my mother was greedy and ate too much later." She answered with a smile and turned her back to wipe and wipe the reflective desk. I giggled too. "That mother can't be greedy now." Mother raised a hand and stroked my soft braid, and smiled silently. I didn't realize until now that this obesity began gradually after giving birth to me-my mother is an ordinary woman! What woman can not pursue beauty and appreciate it? Only a mother can keep this longing in her heart when her children are carefully raised and become warm.
When my mother was thirteen, my grandmother died of illness because she was poor and had no money to buy medicine. My mother's grandparents all have a preference for sons over daughters. Because grandma only raised two daughters for grandpa, it's not good to see her mother. Young mothers often eat with their neighbors. At that time, because grandma died and grandpa was seriously ill, she had to drop out of school and go out to work at the age of thirteen. She used this salary to treat her father, provide education for her sister, and support this family with her immature shoulders, which lasted for more than 20 years. Because of her long-term work, she has also fallen into occupational diseases-she often has a sore neck, and sometimes it is too uncomfortable in the middle of the night, so she turns left and right, and I am often woken up by her. At that time, when I was young, I blamed my mother instead of beating her shoulder. She remained silent on the other end of the phone. I covered my head with a quilt and turned to sleep. I didn't fall asleep because I was really in a bad mood. I don't know how long it took, but I vaguely heard a rustling sound on the other end of the phone. I frowned, and after half a ring, the door sounded. I just raised my eyebrows, but there was a trace of comfort and guilt in my heart. After that, my mother stopped sleeping with me. She must be afraid to disturb me.
The autumn wind is bleak, and it is another autumn. I don't know how many years ago, my mother accidentally mentioned to me what my grandmother looked like before she died. I've never seen such an expression on my mother's face. Attachment, happiness and nostalgia were finally covered up by pain. She said that her grandmother was best at making cotton shoes before her death. Yes, she also inherited her mother's intelligence. When I was young, she often made cotton shoes for me and knitted me a warmth. However, with the passage of time, her work is getting busier and heavier, and her delicate hands are covered with large and small gullies in an instant. Later, in the cold autumn, the cotton shoes on my feet suddenly lost their warmth, allowing the cold wind to attack my feet, unable to resist or escape.
I am maturing step by step, and she is losing her youth little by little. Less than forty years old, dazzling white hair and fine lines burned her eyes, and her memory was gradually declining. I always ask my mother to remember all kinds of trivial things for me, and now she will accidentally forget that my mother spent the first half of her life in hard work. As a child, how can I bear to let her live in hardship all her life? I can only do my little bit to make her smile as beautiful as a flower again!
Is maternal love just a noun? No, in my opinion, it is the deep love between mother and son!
Motherly love is like warm sunshine;
Motherly love is like a cup of rich green tea;
Motherly love is like a pair of powerful little hands.
Maternal love is everywhere in today's society, but do you know how to cherish it?
Time has been fixed in that scene: that night, we were studying in the evening and it was raining outside the window. The crisp voice added a touch of coolness to me. When it rains, it will be windy. Brother Feng seems very happy. His "refreshing" fart is everywhere. All the flowers, grass and trees in the forest are dancing wildly. The Woods are like a piece of dough, sometimes concave and sometimes convex. The next target is the teaching building. The bleak autumn wind came at us and rushed into the trouser legs crazily. I feel like I'm in an ice room. The students couldn't help craning their necks and shrinking their legs one by one, and the rain outside was getting bigger and bigger. The sound of "snapping" is getting louder and louder, and it keeps falling, and all of them fall to the ground in an instant, blooming countless rain flowers, as if to put on new clothes for the earth. The dry land suddenly became wet. "Boom", a silvery white lightning appeared outside the window, as if to split the earth in two. Looking at this screen-like rain, I can't help but feel helpless. I looked up and sighed: "God, leave us an open hand, will you?" I didn't bring rain gear today. How should I go home? Dad is at work, mom is resting at home, and other relatives must be farming! Thought of here, my heart is more helpless.
Time seems to be asleep, with a "ding" sound, accompanied by a crisp and harsh bell, class is over, and when I go home, my classmates file out. In an instant, no one is there. What? So soon, there is no one to accompany me! I dragged my leaded feet out of the classroom slowly, slowly and gradually. I was even more upset when I saw the parents at the school gate and colorful umbrellas appeared in front of me. It is impossible to admit defeat! So, I ventured into the rainforest and quickly rushed into the "safe zone".
The sky is getting darker and darker, and there are fewer and fewer people. I'm getting more and more bored, and I can't help thinking with my big head. Time falls into my heart like an hourglass. I can't help feeling that I don't know where I got a vicious feeling. I rushed forward and the rain fell downstream. I ran all the way home. My clothes are getting wetter and faster, my hair is getting wet, and my shoes and socks are "swallowed up" by water, which makes me very uncomfortable. Suddenly, I heard someone calling me, and I suddenly turned around. This look is too familiar. My mother is dying, desperately holding an umbrella. Later, I flew over, and my mother's black scarf danced freely in the wind, and her hair was blown badly. I held her tightly, like a frightened bird that wouldn't let go. My mother put a sweater on me. When I looked intently, it wasn't the green sweater that my mother was blue with cold the other day and wouldn't let go! Tears welled up in my eyes, and I couldn't tell whether it was tears or rain. I went home with my mother!
I have never forgotten the days I spent with my mother. Now I should cherish this love and repay my parents.