A mother's love is like water, and a father loves a mountain. Let's make handwritten newspapers together to express our gratitude
A mother's love is like water, and a father loves a mountain. Let's make handwritten newspapers together to express our gratitude to our parents. I'll bring it to you. I hope you like it.
Parents' love for fourth-grade pictures appreciates parents' love for fourth-grade pictures; Parents' love for fourth-grade pictures; Parents' love for fourth-grade pictures; Parents' love for fourth grade textbooks; 1: Love for Father's Day; Father is not only recognized as a "doll head" in appearance; * * * Dialect: * * * Treat people sincerely, treat people equally regardless of wealth, and have a solid and correct working ability. In addition to professional research, I also take into account my long-term interest in sculpture, seal cutting, seal cutting and writing.
As long as I can remember, the first thing my father did when he came home was to lift me above my head, let me ride on my shoulders and allow me to "dominate"; When I grow up, my father never pretends to be strict father, but always likes to confide in the form of friends. I don't know when I started, but I have always had a definition in my heart: the person who loves me the most and is closest to me is my mother; The person whom I admire and admire most is his father. Many times, whenever we make gratifying achievements on the road of growth, our relatives and friends come to celebrate, and we can always hear our elders mention some memorable bits and pieces. ...
There is an ancient custom in my hometown: when a child turns one year old, a ceremony of "touching the future" will be held, and it is intended to predict his successful position when he grows up by touching things. Parents do not advocate idealism, but they are also "not refined". On the first day of life, the big desk in the study was emptied and covered with a blanket with flowers, powder, abacus, scales, three-character classics and so on. Father put an ancient book thicker than a brick on it, and at the same time put an exquisite motorcycle model specially designed as a birthday present on it-everyone held their breath: I sat up for a long time and suddenly climbed up to the old book "talking to myself" with agility. My mother picked me up and kissed me wildly. "Look at this goblin's big heart ..." I haven't finished yet. I twisted my body like a fried dough-strips ready for frying, and turned to look at the desk. My mother had to put me back on the desk, only to see me excitedly climb straight to the motorcycle model, and my little hand stopped pulling me. My mother had to take me to the next birthday celebration project by car.
Perhaps, when I was one year old, my aunt couldn't forget my "love" for motorcycles. Maybe my aunt wants to upgrade her love for me with expensive gifts. On the eve of my sixth birthday, I received an original motorcycle for children from my aunt. At that time, I was too young to express my gratitude in words, but when my friends came to "watch" such a luxurious motorcycle, they realized from their envious eyes that there was a sense of happiness in my heart, which rippled into a sense of pride. ...
My father led me to learn to drive seriously and deliberately, hoping that I could "drive" to school when I went to primary school in autumn. Learn to unlock and lock first, and then I sit in the car and hold the handle symbolically. My father put his hand on my little hand, put it in the smallest gear, leaned forward and followed my feet on both sides of the rear wheel, thus training my driving skills on the cobblestone path in my yard. One day for two days ... "June 1" arrived, and my parents decided to accompany me to the suburbs for "internship". Put the motorcycle in the trunk of the car early, laugh all the way to the suburbs and find a flat open space. My father drove the scooter out, my mother put me in the driver's seat, and then my father took me for two laps slowly. At this time, I thought I was skilled and determined to cancel my father's "co-pilot" position. At first, my parents strongly advised me not to drive alone, but I couldn't bear to part with my "Lai" and "Wei", so I had to compromise, but I followed closely with my parents. In order to prove that the technology is not only excellent, but also super strong, they can't control themselves when they start, and want to "get rid of" their parents by stepping on the gas pedal. Who knows that the throttle is too large, and the motorcycle flies like an arrow, but I was firmly dropped from the motorcycle and stayed in place. ...
I don't know if I'm shocked or scared. When I woke up, I found myself lying in a hospital bed with an infusion. Parents' fear is no small matter ... From then on, my father made a special base for the motorcycle, and enshrined it on the base, announcing that the motorcycle is still mine, but it is only for viewing and can't be "fingered" any more. I don't want to drive a motorcycle anymore, but I always stay next to it.
During the summer vacation, my father spent half a day carefully disassembling motorcycle parts with tools and successfully filling the yard. I was told not to change the position of the parts casually. Then measure it with a ruler and write it down in a notebook; Finally, the motorcycle will be restored and still provided on the base of the motorcycle and locked.
The next day, some workers brought some good logs, and my father brought back a set of woodworking tools from the street. Then, my father measured the log and sawed, planed and cut it according to the mark ... I didn't ask my father what to do, but moved a small chair and watched his movements quietly: I saw my father's hands blistered and his forehead sweated, and I was no longer idle. I quickly brought a band-aid to my father's bag, wiped his sweat with a towel, and sent the water in the cup to his mouth ... There were two "log cakes" piled on the ground, a shelf like a trumpet, and many kinds of geometric bodies, some of which had been chiseled out ... That day, my father brought back several barrels of paint and tung oil. When I saw my father coloring them and sorting them on the ground again and again, I suddenly. Father smiled and drew "Happy?" Use a brush. "Open your heart-"
When the paint dried, for three days, a simulated motorcycle was made in dad's hand! This motorcycle can walk when pushed, except that it can't be maneuvered. From then on, my father often let me get on this motorcycle, which made me addicted. I know, my father wants to tell me that he would rather be a little tired than my safety is not guaranteed ... until now, these three motorcycles have been here. Up to now, I have never driven a motorcycle alone, although I was a member of the school singles team in middle school. I am indeed less courageous than ordinary people, but I don't want my parents to worry or have a shadow. ...
Exhibition language: Father's love is like a mountain to shelter from the wind and rain, and warmth is like smoke in his heart. It is respectable to have a father who likes to be friends. That kind of shock is just like the lyrics: Father's love is behind me/I will/will not bow my head/Father's love will always be behind me/I will grow old from childhood to childhood/like the fragrance of flowers/haunt me/accompany me/since yesterday.
Parental love handwritten newspaper fourth grade information 2: grateful mother, how to make the children in the world admire words; Motherly love is like a quiet harbor that nourishes our growth. Motherly love is pure; Motherly love is selfless; Maternal love is great; Motherly love only knows how to give and expects nothing in return. Motherly love is like the warm wind in spring, blowing your heart. Motherly love is like a continuous drizzle, patting your face and nourishing your heart; Motherly love is like a stove in winter, which gives you warm sunshine in severe winter. Children all over the world, looking at their mother with gray temples, which one is not extremely bitter? The love my mother gave me was real, simple, severe and sometimes poetic. In a trance, my thoughts returned to my childhood. I saw a busy figure, and that was my mother working hard. I saw a tired figure, that is my mother knitting cold clothes for me; I saw a cheerful figure, that is, my mother was happy for my study progress. Looking back carefully, when did I lose my mother in my life? Whenever I cry, my mother comforts me; Whenever I feel like a lonely, weak and helpless bird, my mother will open her wide arms and give me a warm and loving breath. Once I had an injection in our school, I felt dizzy. At noon, my mother heard about it, rushed to school without even having lunch, and went to see a doctor behind my back. Then my mother asked for leave to accompany me in the hospital. I was sad to see my mother at that time, and I don't know why. Another time, I felt a little sad. My parents and I bought a big watermelon. I didn't eat when I got home, and my mouth was watering. After my mother cut the melon, she gave me a piece of seed with less meat and sweet taste. But she eats more seeds and the pulp is not very sweet. But maternal love can be very strict sometimes. I always have a bad habit of carelessness. Once, after I went to physical education class at school, I accidentally lost my clothes. When I got home, my mother. She doesn't want to scold her son either, but only in this way can I get rid of my carelessness. Maternal love is the greatest love. Children are flowers watered by their mothers with their own love, and their growth is inseparable from every drop of their mothers' love. The mother has been escorting her children all her life and silently guiding them behind her. Can we repay their love? As Ode to a Wanderer said, "But there is a little affection for an inch of grass, and I get three rays of spring."