Sunflower in full bloom
A writer said: The contest between countries is essentially a contest between mothers. I agree with this statement. I can't measure a mother's love for her children with scales and thermometers, or even describe it. I only know that the power from my mother is so ordinary and great, and its light is dazzling and shocking the whole world.
Maternal love, regardless of spring, summer, autumn and winter; Maternal love, no matter the ends of the earth. Unconsciously, I have left my hometown for more than a year. I think of my mother's white hair on her temples and her expectant eyes, and I am deeply touched. On the scale of love, with my growing body, my mother silently increased the weight, shouldered the hardships of my growth without complaint, moved the weight with difficulty, and maintained the balance between heaven and earth.
Mother has been waiting for her daughter to come back from school in the autumn wind and rain. Her hair is wet by the wind and rain, and her wrinkles are hurt by the sun. Sometimes, her wayward daughter is in a mood for a popsicle. Sometimes, while listening to her mother's nagging, her daughter covers her ears impatiently. Sometimes, a daughter is tired of the monotonous life at home because of some thoughts in her heart. Sometimes, my daughter learns to sweep Emei lightly in front of the toilet mirror, but she doesn't notice her mother's crow's feet, which is inadvertently enlarged by the years. My mother, on the other hand, embraces everything, and still silently gives her ardent love and meticulous care.
May 12 is a festival for all mothers in the world. And how can my mother's love for me be measured and compensated by a formal holiday? Starting today, I will be an ambitious person, study hard and strive for success in my studies in the future. I think this is also my mother's greatest wish.
A kind-hearted mother made clothes for her wayward son with thread in her hand. She sewed and mended them carefully for fear of delaying time and making him stay home. However, an inch of long grass is a little sentimental, and it has won three spring rays. This poem by Meng Jiao, a Tang Dynasty, always makes me light the candle of missing and an eternal belief and pursuit when I leave my mother.
BYOND has a famous song "I really love you", which sings the love of all children for their mothers. But I have gone through 19 years, but I haven't really done anything for my hard-working mother, and I haven't even said a normal greeting.
Whenever I stand in a foreign land, looking at my hometown and looking for my mother's familiar back, I always think a lot. Today, my daughter who is studying in a foreign land can't go home with a bunch of beautiful carnations and see her dear mother in person. She can only give my blessing to her mother with the help of a ray of sunshine and a breeze blowing through the south: "Mom, I love you!" "