I am proud to tell you that the virtue of respecting the old and loving the young is a lamp in the dark; It is a fire in the cold winter; This is spring in the desert; A long drought brings rain. Virtue is actually a warm hand extended when you need help; A fiery heart handed over when you need to talk; When you need care, offer cordial condolences.
Only the old people in this world can feel the warmth and beauty of this world; In order to stay away from loneliness, to complete my life journey happily, and to make the whole world full of laughter. Let's act together to respect, love and help the elderly. This is our unshirkable responsibility. The wheel of history is rolling forward, let us hold high the banner of respecting and loving the elderly in the new century.
Give all our love and filial piety, throw away the selfish concept of "every man for himself, the devil takes the hindmost", carry forward the fine tradition of respecting the elderly, create good conditions for the elderly to spend their old age safely, and let the world shine with sunshine and love everywhere!
When I was a teenager, I only depended on my mother. When I was young, I might just love my mother blindly.
Only when the sun of life moves towards noon and life has spring and summer can we have a deep understanding and love for our mother. We may suddenly realize that our mother is actually a kind of time, from green fields to forests, from streams to deep lakes, from bright moons to icebergs.
With the pace of life, when we also feel the wrinkles on our mother's forehead and her white hair and a wisp of white hair with horns and tails, we sometimes find it difficult to tell whether our mother is old or our years are old. What do we want to leave behind is an unforgettable maternal love, or the years of dribs and drabs, travel-stained, blood and tears? The passage of time is speechless, when we look at time.
Friend! The Yellow River, with its heroic spirit, appeared in Yuan Ye, Asia: it showed the spirit of our nation: great and powerful! Here,
We sing praises to the Yellow River. I stood on the top of a high mountain and watched the Yellow River roll eastward.