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"After half a month, I'm going to open a municipal public class. The key is a lesson in ancient Chinese. I don't know where to start! " One night at the dinner table, my mother suddenly nagged. "Then I'll wait for the good news." I bit the sweet and sour pork ribs and answered casually. I know, mom will be busy for a while.
In the past, every time I opened the door, I could always see my mother's smiling face, but recently, there was no one outside the door, replaced by a peaceful halo in the study. Act quickly into the study, only to find that mom and dad are sitting at the table, discussing the design of the lesson plan. Fine and dense words are like silkworm leaves, and words that jump from time to time because of differences are integrated with long and comfortable inspiration. Full and soft lights fell on their hair, shoulders and unfinished lesson plans before the case, embroidering what a dedicated and solemn picture.
One night, I woke up, vaguely wanted to drink some water, got up and walked out of the room. In the thick night, the residential buildings in the community were covered up and the lights went out. Occasionally, the whimpers of wild cats and dogs echoed in the air. My eyes suddenly come into contact with a sudden light, follow it-that's my little study! I crept to the front of the study, and through the half-closed door, I saw, saw, my dear mother, still busy in front of the computer.
Her mouth seems to be saying something, only to see her lips squirming slightly, slender fingers holding the mouse from time to time, jumping on the keyboard from time to time. Her eyes, which often look at me with a smile, are searching carefully on the screen like a search engine at the moment. Probably can't stand the pain of staying up late. My mother took a sip of the teacup put aside, and even the tea was cold. She sighed slightly and put it down again. Mother stretched herself, rubbed her red eyes, patted her heavy forehead and continued to struggle in the ocean of words. Seeing this scene, my eyes blurred, and tears seemed to pour out the next second. I stepped forward and picked up the teacup on the table. A little coolness came from my fingertips: "Mom, you go to bed early and I'll pour you a cup of hot tea." When I suddenly appeared, my mother showed a surprised expression on her face, but the next moment it was democratic. "Don't sleep so late, go to sleep." She reproached me in a low voice.
During that time, my mother's time with me decreased little by little. More often, I see her either preparing lessons nervously before filing, or trying to speak in front of the mirror and then revising it over and over again. Mother's once wet eyes are now like the lake in autumn, with a touch of dryness and a thick nasal sound. In my mother's own words, this small ancient prose teaching is a challenge for her and the children in the class, and we can't make mistakes. From time to time, my heart is always mixed with a complex emotion, and I feel unbearable and distressed for my mother's hard work, but there is always a driving force to drive me forward, forward and pursue my mother's struggle.
Finally, my mother's struggle paid off, and her little ancient prose class "Boya Farewell" won unanimous praise. Looking at the red certificate, I know that everything comes from my mother's unremitting struggle, and the successful flower offering is finally watered by sweat. How hard she worked for this moment!
Tao Yuanming left a classic saying, "If you don't come back in the prime of life, it's hard to wake up in the morning." Timely encouragement, time waits for no one. "My dear mother explained with her own words and deeds that struggle is a passionate past tense, a tense present tense and a future tense full of infinite possibilities! On the road of life in the future, only struggle can usher in the best time!
Pay tribute to the struggling mother, struggling us, and struggling time!
1one day in June, 970, my 58-year-old great-grandfather was walking in the twilight, with silver in his hair and his body bent like a piece of paper. In the twilight, his figure was dragged short and long by the bumpy high sand pile, just like performing in front of the nature's ha ha mirror. Obviously, he has no leisure to perform the so-called performance. In fact, the stage of his performance is in the high sand that he loves but can't love and has to love. Now, he has picked three baskets of pig grass with a short-handled shovel, cooked two meals with last year's straw, and beat buckwheat with a smooth stone mill. Speaking of buckwheat, my great-grandfather can't help sighing. It is thin and shriveled, which is a vivid portrayal of a severely malnourished baby. Looking around again, the taro on the high sand is dim and the sweet potato hurts. Hu Sang's face is dull, and the radish has no roots. Rice in low-lying areas has long been hay swaying in the wind. ...
1975 One day in July, my 23-year-old grandmother was walking in the golden dawn with a big shovel on her shoulder. In the morning light, people who keep walking back and forth on the sand are like ants eating mountains, and grandma is the thinnest one. In this great battle of leveling the high sand in history, my grandmother saw that Han's clothes in the neighboring village were worn out, and the young man in Dingbei Township was bloodied on his shoulders, or shouted his songs while swinging his arms; She saw that someone thought the burden was irregular, so she packed it and left. She also saw someone carrying a double burden with two poles, and one person had to do two jobs ... Now I'm thinking that in the steaming heat, my grandmother will probably miss the blue sky, the green wheat, the rows of uniformly brushed corn and the golden rice in the future. ...
One day in August, 1992, 15-year-old father planted rice seedlings barefoot in a rice field. The sand in that rice field was very high, but now it is smooth and shiny as silk. The sun is like fire, there is no wind, only the noise that cicadas get more excited as they get hotter. After a long time, although it is not as neat as the National Day soldiers, it still presents a piece of rice seedlings. Seeing this scene, my father seemed very satisfied, so he straightened his back and went straight to the canal next to the paddy field, where there was cool and fragrant tea. He picked up a teacup engraved with a red star and gulped it down. Before going to the field again, he found a leech with blood all over his legs. ...
20xx June 15, the night before the senior high school entrance examination, drinking porridge cooked by rice in my hometown seemed to smell the charming fragrance of rice flowers in my hometown field. In the distant joyful croaking, I cut the cantaloupe and cucumber that my grandfather just gave me into "hearts", with a few red cherries growing in front of my hometown in the middle, and then put my hands together to pay my highest respects to the land that once suffered, to the people who once struggled hard, and to the fair and selfless time!
Pay tribute to the time of struggle. Composition 3 Struggle consists of two words: Struggle and Struggle. Courage means diligence, and fighting means fighting. However, how can the connotation of struggle be summarized only by "efforts"?
Struggle is the' driving force' towards the goal; It is the courage to gamble on your time, energy and even life; That is a gesture of getting up even if you fall to the ground and are scarred; It is the kind of perseverance that will persist even if it is caught by fate.
More than two thousand years ago, a thin man was dragged into prison, and he suffered the most painful punishment as a man. In the darkness, he remembered his father's wishes and the historical materials he collected with all his energy. He summoned up his courage to sum up his life's efforts here. A person, in the cold and damp, completed the greatest and most precious wealth of China. Lu Xun's name: the historian's swan song, Li Sao has no rhyme.
His name is Sima Qian, a native of the Western Han Dynasty. He won the respect of countless people in later generations with his life's struggle.
People are inherently mortal, or lighter than a feather, or heavier than Mount Tai, and strive to succeed.
At an altitude of more than 6000 meters, I trudged 16 years and wrote papers all over the plateau. When he fell, his initial heart, vows and unfinished wishes were hidden in his backpack.
16 years, Zhong Yang spent more than 150 days in Tibet every year on average. His footprints on the snowy plateau stretch for hundreds of thousands of kilometers. His breath is all over the most remote areas in Tibet. With the heart of in-depth research, Zhong Yang struggled on the roof of the world all his life, filling the blank of the world germplasm resources bank. Zhong Yang, who had been overworked for a long time, repeatedly called the police and had a sudden cerebral hemorrhage. However, despite his critical illness, he was hospitalized for only 9 months and then went back to work in Tibet with a backpack.
On the night of September 25th, 20xx, Zhong Yang, who arrived at the work site, died in a car accident, and a star in the germplasm field fell.
In an interview before his death, he said: "Any life will end one day, but I am not afraid, because my students will continue the road of scientific exploration." He used his fearless struggle all his life to weave the dazzling life time and bright future of the motherland germplasm science. In the torrent of time, he can't be forgotten, but will only be respected by more people.
"Ready-"I stood at the beginning of the1000m race.
"Run!" I stamped my foot and jumped out.
No matter how far it is, I will try my best to run. Even though my legs were sore and dizzy, I kept going.
"Beijing time, 23 o'clock sharp!" I work hard at my desk and write down my hopes for the future with a pen. Gradually, I forgot my tiredness and immersed myself in the fascinating world of knowledge.
"The exam begins!" As soon as the teacher gave the order, I wrote a book, and the sweat ran down my ears, so I didn't have time to dry it. It's getting better and better, and a satisfied smile appears on the corner of my mouth.
……
Everyone is like a lonely book, with yellow sand raging and washing away every stroke in the book. In the end, only a shining "struggle" was left, which condensed into his unique life. Such a time deserves everyone's tribute.
"Struggle" is the essence of the Chinese nation handed down from generation to generation, but it is a pity that it is gradually diluted by the world. People forget the struggle and pursue "Buddha" instead. Many people hope to become famous overnight through the internet, instead of tasting the fruits of struggle. As everyone knows, these traces are like dust on the table, and they are clean when touched; And the time of struggle is the lettering on the diamond, which shines forever.
Go, go, start fighting! Pay tribute to the time of struggle!
In the early spring of that year, I felt the taste of struggle and grew up quietly.
Under the sun, the breeze blew into my heart and lingered in my mind for a long time. The bike that caught my attention cannot be erased from my mind. I have been longing for free riding, hoping to ride on the road with others one day ... but because of my laziness, my oath has become a lie on my youth journey. But now, I will continue to fight and learn it.
On the ground, countless light spots pour down, just like youth, blood and wonderful life!
At this point, I was ready, stepped on the pedal carefully, grabbed the handle of the car and jumped into the car. I'm trying to move on. As the saying goes, "everything is difficult at the beginning." Sure enough, I fell. Tears swirled in the eyes, one drop, two drops, and fell on the clothes. Half an hour passed and I was practicing. An hour has passed and I am still practicing. I can't back down, otherwise everything I have done and thought before will go up in smoke. Although my heart is more of a sense of urgency, I have imagined the joy after success!
Everything is as quiet and beautiful as before. I am no longer impetuous, but readjust my mind. Because I don't want to see such a humble person again. I believe that I will not be so small, I will struggle.
I tried riding a bike again, but my eyes were still closed. Everything is the same as before, but I seem to have more confidence. When I opened my eyes, I obviously felt the car slowly moving forward. I made it!
In the next few days, I continued to practice and struggle until I was proficient and could ride on the road like a friend.
What is struggle? Struggle is to make every effort towards a goal, make constant efforts and work hard. Struggle is to spread youth and meet the future.
Lies are no longer lies. Facing my oath, I broke it and defeated it. I salute the time of struggle. It turns out that I have struggled and lived up to my times!
Pay tribute to the time of struggle. Life is a stage, and everyone wants to bloom on it. Whenever I see others release their brilliance on the stage, I always feel a little sad in my heart, and I succeed! I cheer for myself in my heart, come on!
Looking at myself like an ugly duckling in the mirror, I hope I can become a beautiful white swan one day. I hope that the person standing on the stage is me and I can win the applause of the audience. I will work hard for this and strive to get ahead one day.
When the test papers were handed out, countless red forks gave off dazzling light. The deskmate leaned over and said, "Wow, young master, you did really well in the exam! 64 points, another record? "
I was silent-countless efforts, countless failures, and countless unwillingness. I try to be a successful character. I seem to smell success, but when I lift the veil, I find it is still a mirage. I will never touch the shadow of success, and I can't climb it. A person hiding in the corner, a tear running down his cheek, slowly purified the troubles in his heart, no, I want to turn grief into strength, cheer for myself, cheer!
I'm still the kid chasing the sun on the tracks, running day and night. I fell down, struggled, sat in the sun and wiped my sweat. The sun seems within reach, but I can never keep up with its rhythm. The reality is cruel. Repeated failures and repeated tempering have made me more frustrated and brave.
Since then, when others are immersed in a good sleep, I am still writing at my desk; When others are talking and laughing, I sit next to me and think calmly about math problems; When others are watching the drama in front of the TV, I sit in a chair with my review materials on my back; While others are frolicking on the court, I am rushing to attend various cram schools; While others are enjoying delicious food at the dinner table, I am eating steamed bread while doing my homework ... The flower of success is quietly blooming in my heart. 14 age, there must be many obstacles. I will cheer myself up and let me conquer you with courage!
"9 1 minute!" The voice echoed in the classroom for a long time. Finally, I stepped onto that stage and performed a bright future to my heart's content. Facing everyone's respectful eyes, my heart is full of pride. "Nothing is difficult in the world, if you put your mind to it." As long as you have so much energy, you will succeed!
Cheer for yourself, put on more beautiful wings and fly proudly!