Eighth grade composition on earth associations
In their daily study, work or life, many people have had the experience of writing compositions, so they are all familiar with compositions. Composition is a narrative method that expresses the meaning of a theme through words. So have you ever understood composition? Below is an eighth-grade composition about soil that I compiled for everyone. It is for reference only. I hope it can help everyone.
Huang Yiran, have you ever thought about it? Who is the mother of the flower? Who is the mother of grass? Who is the mother of the tree? Who is the mother of the food and fruit trees we depend on for survival? They have the same mother - soil. Her skin is dark, yellow, and white, and her dirty appearance has never attracted people's attention, and she has never expected to attract people's attention. She just lay there silently, doing everything he should do - transporting nutrients, water, and carrying all kinds of powerlessness. It is so ordinary that you will not notice its existence; it is so broad, its mind covers the entire land; it is so great, giving silently, without asking for anything in return... It gives all its nourishment The food and water were all given to the plants. But it still has to endure the huge pain caused by the roots of plants criss-crossing its body and piercing deeper and deeper into it; it also has to endure the harassment and destruction of earthworms and some small insects. It just bears these pains silently, never complains, never asks for rewards, and is never proud or ostentatious. It is kind-hearted and accepts everything. It collects fallen leaves, broken flowers, dead branches... and also provides habitat and shelter for small insects. It uses its body to contain everything. You can find traces of it in the yard, in the school, and in the park. It dedicates its body for people to walk, play, and have picnics... It just lies on the ground, does not fuck, does not shout, does not complain, and allows humans to step on it. As long as it can make them happy, it forgets the pain and enjoys with the same happiness. The vases in the shop and even the exorbitantly priced porcelain in the museum are just a type of clay. Clay must undergo a series of tests such as deformation and polishing before it can become a solid embryo. To truly transform into beautiful porcelain, it needs the test of fire. Only by withstanding the raging fire can we have the opportunity to jump onto the museum's exhibition stand. Otherwise, we can only be ordinary clay for a lifetime. Soil, ordinary yet great, ordinary yet noble, deserves to be the mother of the earth!
There is something in the world that is ordinary and can be seen everywhere, but it contributes silently without expecting anything in return, and has great achievements without making any publicity. It is dirt. It does not have a dazzling appearance, nor does it have a refreshing fragrance. What it has is just a mind that is willing to nurture all things in the world. Even though it is ugly, even though it is humble, even though it is simple, it still makes me awe-inspiring. In my opinion, isn't father's love just like this clay? Ordinary and simple, broad and profound. My world was once shrouded in dark clouds. The heavy psychological pressure and the blow of successive exams made me fall into the bottom of my life, and my mood became depressed, irritable, and extremely unstable. One day, I was alone in front of the mirror in a daze, and my father knocked on the door lightly and came in. He squatted down beside me and turned to face me: "What's wrong? Why are you unhappy? Can you tell me?" I said. I didn't want to speak, but looking at my father's almost pleading expression, I reluctantly picked up a pen and wrote down a bunch of reasons on the paper: my grades were not ideal, my appearance was mediocre, not as beautiful as other girls; my family was not wealthy, my parents were of low status... Dad read the note, and a trace of sadness and helplessness flashed across his eyes. His unnatural expression made my face feel slightly hot. Then, Dad immediately looked at me with firm eyes, put his hands on my shoulders and said, "Listen to Dad, although your current results are not ideal, as long as you cheer up and work harder from now on, Dad believes in you." You should be grateful that your failure in the exam made you realize your shortcomings in time and was a wake-up call for you to be admitted to a key high school. Obviously, your baby daughter is not amazing in appearance, but she does not lack anything because of it. You still have a teacher who likes you. And friends. Besides, you have sound limbs and a healthy body. Isn’t this something worth being happy about? Also, although our family is not rich, it is a complete and happy family. We love each other and depend on each other. Isn’t it wonderful to be together?” After finishing speaking, my father looked at me affectionately. His words are like a ray of sunshine shining directly into my heart, dispersing the clouds and fog. Some people say that a father's love is like a mountain; some say that a father's love is like an ocean. But in my opinion, father's love is like the thick soil, silently nurturing us.
Walking on the country road, a breeze blows slowly, and the air is filled with the faint fragrance of flowers. The colorful flowers in front of me make me relaxed and happy. Slowly lowering his head, he saw the dark soil, and couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. I walked over and picked up some soil. It was soft and soft, and exuded the fragrance of soil. It turned out that it was also very gentle. It had always given all the love and care to the flowers, but we ignored its efforts and dedication. . I stared carefully at the handful of soil in my hand and couldn't help but fall into deep thought: it has no gorgeous color, no delicate posture, and no charming fragrance, but it is the foundation of all things. Without it, there would be no tall buildings today; without it, there would be no sweet and delicious food; without it, there would be no colorful flowers.
However, those of us who live in bustling cities will only notice the tall and majestic buildings, and only care about the blooming flowers. Who has ever paid attention to its existence? When people come to the garden and admire the colorful flowers, the soil is always ignored, but it never complains, always contributes silently without expecting anything in return, and is happy to see people being happy for the flowers it has carefully cultivated. , it is very satisfied, and the soil never cares about the pain of people stepping on it. Doesn’t it symbolize the hardworking gardener? I couldn't help but think of my parents from the dirt. My mother was pregnant for ten months, and since I was born, they have devoted their lives to loving me and raising me, all the time in obscurity, without asking for anything in return. My parents are very ordinary, but this heavy love is great and irreplaceable in my heart. Without them, we would not be healthy and happy. I love soil, its ordinary simplicity, its silent dedication, and even more, people with the spirit of soil. Even if they are ugly, simple, and humble, they are still respected.
The soil nourishes all things, and all things grow in the soil. Mud is common, it does not have a gorgeous appearance, but it is unknown, selfless and never complains. Then nothing will be able to grow. Mud is a very common thing that can be seen everywhere. At first glance, the mud looks dark and has no fragrance. After it rains, it becomes very sticky and you still feel sticky when walking on it. First look at the bright red flowers on the roadside, and then look at the soil on the ground. It can be said that there is one sky and one earth. However, this ugly, ordinary soil is actually soil with great uses. Everything that grows in soil must absorb water from the soil to maintain the continuation of life. Flowers laugh at him, green trees mock it, but it has no complaints and has been dedicated and dedicated in obscurity, just to make nature full of vitality and add green. This spirit and will are touching. The soil reminds me of the ordinary and great people in life. The police maintain public order, and they are so ordinary and ordinary. Silently make your own contribution to society. During the Chinese New Year and holidays, they cannot go home to visit their relatives and friends. They have been fighting on the front line of public security, and there are always endless cases. They ignore the safety of their personal lives and fight wits and courage with the criminals; the traffic police are even harder, every day Faced with people and vehicles coming and going, they always take the trouble to direct traffic and suck in car exhaust, but they don't complain at all, because they know that this is their police duty. The teacher is also very ordinary. A teacher's bounden duty is to teach and educate people. Every day they have to stand in class, standing all day, but they don't get a rest at night. They are always correcting homework in time, just to improve the children's academic performance. They are unknown and stick to their posts; they Selfless dedication, but without any complaints, because they also know that this is also their responsibility as teachers. The teacher is like a candle, burning himself, illuminating others, and making silent contributions. I praise the soil because of its selfless dedication; I praise those who contribute silently like the soil, because they are even more selfless.