Home is the place where you go out early and return late, the hometown where you miss day and night, and the temple where you live spiritually …
Regression is a process, a complex, an awakening …
Go home, feel the affection from the joys and sorrows of family members, appreciate the care from the parting and reunion of hometown, and look for sustenance from the return of spiritual loss ...
Recall the most unforgettable "home" in your memory, tell your story, express your feelings and share your feelings …
Title: "Going Home"
Requirements: 1, no less than 600 words and no more than 900 words. 2. Except poetry, the style is not limited; 3, the text can't appear affect the score of the school name, life, if you have to appear, please use XXX instead; 4. Please don't copy or copy.
Fan Wen went home.
Once again, I was in tears and homesick. "When the sun sets, heartbroken people are at the end of the world." Where is home?
When I was studying in a foreign land, I was as lonely as a bird leaving the nest. Walking on the winding narrow path, you can feel the familiar and clear pulse of your hometown from time to time. The call of home rang in my ear again and again, which reminded me of my thoughts.
It's another gray sky. The same road, familiar and unfamiliar, even though it has been through countless times, is not the one familiar to my hometown.
Suddenly, an impulse to go home haunted me, and the bits and pieces of my hometown once came to my mind.
Is the clear river in my hometown still flowing freely? The river flows slowly, and lively fish swim around in the water, so uncomfortable. From time to time, several naughty children plopped into the river, causing ripples. You splash me, I splash you, and the splashed water drops fall on my cheeks, which is cool. Laughter came together, and that smile was really brilliant.
The clear spring in my heart echoed with ripples and flowed to the green willows behind the house.
In front of and behind the house, surrounded by green willows, so dense. From time to time, a few lovely birds hang on the branches, inlaid among the green leaves like pearls and gems, and hide shyly. The crisp and pleasant birdsong constantly stimulates people's excitement. Where are their nests? Are you adrift like me?
Tears are dripping into my heart, and the figure in tears is so kind.
This is a working mother. She is still so haggard and emaciated. Several silver wires climbed up my temple, and several locked wrinkles appeared on my forehead. Look, my mother is carrying food for my naughty sister, and her kind smile is clearly visible. My sister's clothes were stained with a few drops of oil, and she was busy wiping them with a wet cloth bit by bit. When a few grains of rice fall, my mother always puts them in her mouth without hesitation. This is not stingy, but frugal. When drinking water, she always takes a sip and no sound escapes.
I woke up crying. I came back again, and my thoughts flew back reluctantly.
It turns out that home has always been in my heart-