Lying on the windowsill, I could almost hear sad voices coming from all directions, for him.
The children grieved for the loss of their loved ones. Sadness turns into fog, flutters and weaves into rain all over the sky.
Silk. Are those sad tears?
Perhaps influenced by this atmosphere, my mood is heavy. So go downstairs and fight.
I happened to meet an acquaintance in this distraction: "Long time no see! Today's weather is really gloomy, and
Today is Tomb-Sweeping Day. This reminds me of your great-grandfather, who didn't live that spring.
My heart is like a stale and dreary string, rippling memories.
Relatives, the emotional sustenance of my life. Even if you know that it is human nature to be born, sick and dead, but
Can't help but think-how many people will be in the snow in this world?
Warm your cold hands with the warmest abdomen in winter? How many people want to eat?
Give your favorite dish? How many people will make you laugh when you sob?
Heart?
Tears began to fill my eyes. I was fascinated by memories and stumbled back to the window, right?
The rain and tears all over the window make me feel sad.
Suddenly, my hands have a full and round feeling. I looked down and held a hand.
Only round oranges in Huang Chengcheng smell good, but they are out of tune with the environment.
With a sigh, I noticed outside the window: the cold wind swept through the night and pounced on the thin old man.
Trees, cold rain dyed the world black. How can mom come back in such bad weather?
?
Time has not dispelled the sadness, but there are still drums in the distance, mixed with sobs and sobs.
Some people have a sore nose. Am I the only one left in this world?
I clung to the orange of the sun in my hand, trying to absorb the warmth of the sun.
But it still doesn't help, my thoughts are floating, illusory, cut and reorganized, and finally there is nothing.
There is nothing left. Like a lost boat, sailing in the stormy waves, I have a lot.
I wish I had a beacon to show me the way.
Whose heart did you break at night?
Suddenly, I heard a familiar voice: "Oh, it's so late, I didn't know."
Is your daughter asleep? The car broke down today! "
It's mom's voice!
I stood up in disbelief and looked out of the window: I saw it under the dim street lamp.
There stood a bright figure. Mother was soaked to the skin and her clothes clung to her trembling body.
Usually neat hair, messy at this time, forehead filar silk glittering and translucent white hair is so surging.
Sang, the rain flowed down her forehead to the corner of her eyes and gathered into a stream under her chin. Tahao
I don't care, but I still stand silly, standing like a giant, shining with her thin body.
I am surrounded by warm arms in the cold world.
Suddenly, tears welled up again, and spring and sunshine appeared in front of me.
Mei, a hundred flowers blossom and the garden is full of spring! The name of spring is maternal love!
When I threw myself into that wet and warm embrace, I began to understand that the lost need was Myanmar.
Yes, but what we need now is gratitude! Cherish now! Love now! when we
When it rains, the person who protects us from the rain is the one who loves you forever!
Suddenly I remembered a poem by Bing Xin: "Mom, the storm is coming/the birds are hiding."
Into its nest/storm warning in my heart/I only hide in your arms/"
At that moment, my world blossomed in spring.