"You, the familiar face in my dream, are the tenderness I am waiting for...You are the only beautiful myth in my heart." The beautiful melody flies freely in the quiet night sky like a bird. , the jumping elves slowly unveiled the mystery of Jackie Chan's blockbuster "Myth". The exciting storyline, the majestic rivers emerging, the star-studded cast, the clear and distant natural scenery, the breathtaking special effects, the endless stream of heroes and beauties that have traveled through thousands of years...all the elements of a blockbuster movie Taking in all of it and vividly dancing on the large screen of high-definition digital TV, I enjoyed an unparalleled feast for the five senses, a gluttonous feast. Sometimes the world is so wonderful. Maybe it’s a coincidence or subjective factors. My attention suddenly jumped from the movie to the TV. It reminded me of how Jackie Chan’s blockbusters would have been broadcast on black-and-white TV decades ago. , and whether it will make me enjoy it so much. As I grew up, TV sets also made inconspicuous but leap-forward leaps from black-and-white TVs to ordinary color TVs, to LCD TVs, to cable TVs, and finally to the now popular digital TVs. Maybe it’s because color TVs have been popular since I was born, but I’m not deeply impressed by black and white TVs. The only memory I have is a small black and white TV I saw at my aunt's house in the countryside when I was very young. That is the only valuable appliance in my aunt's house. Nothing else but sound and a few channels. Simply put, compared with today's TVs, it was just a box with audio and video. Compared with the one-sided relationship with black and white TV, a 21-inch TV accompanied me throughout my childhood of laughter and laughter, deducing every happiness of childhood. It was an ordinary color TV produced in Qingdao with two iconic antennas on the top. I remember that every weekend at four o'clock in the afternoon, I would reflexively come to the TV and wait impatiently for the cartoon hero in my mind to appear. That impatient desire, that cheering excitement, that never-tiring greed, that hearty and innocent child’s voice echoing in the narrow square world, still often appear in my mind, and as I grow up, I become A precious memory that will last forever. A few years later, this TV moved with us from the dilapidated and damp hut of less than 20 square meters to a spacious and bright building. It is still my close friend, it keeps me company when I am lonely, it brings me joy when I am sad, and it brings me relaxation when I am tired. Although its old coat is incongruous with the bright hall, it still works diligently every day. One summer, my father bought a VCD player. Every Friday night, in order to enjoy our favorite martial arts blockbusters, we, one old and one young, would play shirtless in front of the TV while playing with the VCD and playing with the two sticks. The nostalgic antenna was very busy, and naturally I enjoyed it, as if there were only two people in the world, my father and I, intoxicated in the world of martial arts, cursing the villain's cunning, praising the hero's unparalleled martial arts, and Cheers loudly for the hero's final victory. Later, the TV that accompanied me through my childhood and adolescence finally completed its mission. Its successor was a 29-inch Haier widescreen color TV. His simple and majestic appearance is both deep and reserved, and also expressive of personality, showing a kingly bearing. Soon, with the popularization of high-definition digital TV, I saw more clearly the changes in the international political arena, the ups and downs in the Olympics, and the unpredictability of the international economy from the large and clear screen... He took me there. When I arrived at the diplomatic venue of Fengyunjihui, he took me to the green battlefield with wind and clouds. It took me out of the world, brought me to the majestic Great Wall, and allowed me to climb the prestigious Eiffel Tower. It allows me to stand on the top of Mount Everest and look out into the vast distance... It allows me to look around the world and let my thoughts travel around the world. From black and white to color, from small to wide, from hand button to remote control, from single tone to multiple mixed sound, TV has completed the transition from black and white to color TV, then to cable, digital and The leap of high-definition LCD transforms from a single program viewing into a variety of comfortable enjoyment. As a small microcosm of the development of the motherland, the growth of television itself is a big myth, and it also reflects the myth of the development and take-off of the motherland. "You, the familiar face in the dream, are the tenderness I am waiting for... You are the only beautiful myth in my heart." The movie "Myth" gradually opened, and the development of the motherland was also in the beautiful theme of socialism. Start writing your own myth. Instructor: Chen Weiwen, Small Town Love, Grade 2, Class 4, Jiaozhou Experimental Middle School, Gao Chong, 120 degrees east longitude, 36 degrees north latitude. Two infinitely extending lines, compared to a small town, where I was born and where I grew up. This is an inconspicuous small town on the northern coast, but it is the warmest golden harbor in my heart. In the early morning, the east is getting whiter, and the crisp chirping of birds can be heard outside the window. Opening the window, the air is filled with the usual fragrance of grass and earth. There was noise in the street, students carrying schoolbags to school, grannies selling fried dough sticks and soy milk, office workers walking about in a hurry... everything was quiet and peaceful. One generation grows old here, and another generation is born here. Their ancestors have worked hard to cultivate this land for generations and reap their own simple happiness. All his life, the old man and his grandmother often went to church for mass early in the morning.
The so-called church is just a two-story small foreign-style building in a small town. It is simple and even crude, but it attracts many elderly people from neighboring villages to worship. The air here has a very quiet smell, and people's hearts are also fresh and quiet. Listen to the old people praying and listen to the old people singing hymns together. A group of old and kind-hearted people with devout and firm beliefs. I once asked my grandma if she would regret that she had never left a small town in her life. Grandma smiled calmly: "I got married from the other side of the small town to this side. I have been rushing through the small town all my life. I have lived a peaceful life. I have seen high-rise buildings, ridden in cars, and been able to see beautiful things at home. Cable TV...Grandma is satisfied." After hearing what Grandma said, I suddenly felt shocked from the bottom of my heart. The old people have worked hard all their lives with their love for the small town, and they have been happy all their lives. The small town is the only one for them, not their hometown but their home. Square Men, women and children of all ages occasionally go back to the small square in the center of the small town in midsummer. The square is not big but full of laughter. In the northwest corner is a row of cold drink shops that release air-conditioning. There are various flavors of ice cream, but I love the old popsicles the most. Maybe it’s a nostalgic feeling! There is no cream, only sweet ice, and sometimes a glass of ice-cold orange juice is needed to get through the heat of the afternoon. In the evening, the square is always lively. Men, women, young and old come here to enjoy the cool air. Children: Some are playfully chasing and playing, driving bumper cars freely, and some... Young people: Some are singing karaoke, some are playing billiards, some are sitting around the food stall eating and chatting, and some are ...Old people: They are in groups, some chatting and doing things around the house, some playing cards together, and some... all just for fun, relaxation, and peace of mind. . Here, you can sing loudly with your friends; here, you can dance with your friends; here, you can join any group and chat with them about all kinds of things. Because the people here have a simple and kind heart, here there is no intrigue or struggle for power, but instead the warmth and tolerance unique to a small town. Change Still The town has been changing over the years. , open parks built along the river, flat asphalt roads, high-rise residential buildings rising from the ground, and more and more family cars on the streets... I like the small town now, but there are I always remember the feelings of the ancient town deep in my soul. In my free evenings, I would go for a walk alone, taking the winding paths and slowly going to the outskirts, to see the waves of wheat with microwaves, to listen to the rushing sound of the creek, and to smell the earthy smell. The fragrance of flowers and plants... The small town is developing rapidly with each passing day, but the simple and kind feelings of the town have not changed, just like a ray of eternally brilliant sunshine that warms the hearts of everyone in the town. The small town is like an accordion. The music played in the long river of time is always so soft, and it becomes more and more skillful and beautiful. The small town is neither a well-known economic development city nor a civilized tourist destination. It is not much different from other small towns. However, every time I leave the small town for a while, I can't help but look back many times and cry. It's the feeling of love. Every time the moon is full and I stay in a foreign country, I will miss it forever. Because the small town has raised me for eighteen years, the small town complex has been deeply engraved in my heart. Instructor: Zhang Pei Songyue is from Class 16, Grade 2, Gelajiao State Experimental Middle School in his hometown. Zeng Xianghui. Why is the more transparent sunshine in California, the fuller moon on the Rhine River, and the more romantic flowing water in Cambridge County, all far inferior to the one that lights up at dusk in my hometown? A bunch of orange lights? ——Inscription I don’t know what year and month the poet stood by the river and sighed softly: "The moon is the brightness of my hometown." The gentle sigh is like a light smoke, lingering in my heart, and the lingering homesickness will Stationed in the heart. Through the old wooden window edges, through the shining glass, there are colors outside the window that are not bright, there is spring light that is not charming, and there is a sun that is not brilliant. But I love this place, this ancient coastal town. The bright moon in the Qin Dynasty and the sun in the Han Dynasty. From the distant ancient times to the modern day, she has stood on the edge of the Yellow River, enjoying the salty sea breeze and absorbing the essence of heaven and earth. In the mouths of the old people, she is the ancient city "Jiao County". She once had ancient city walls, her shallow moat still exists today, and her pulse "Jiaoji Line" once defeated the iron hoofs of the Japanese invaders. The old stories exude a faint fragrance, like wine that has been aged for many years, filled with intoxicating fragrance. Hometown, you are the hometown to which birds fly back, the hill where the fox returns to his home after death, the root system from which fallen leaves return, and the worries and sorrows that wanderers cannot let go of. "My hometown is not beautiful, the low thatched huts and the bitter well water..." The soft singing voice, shallow lyrics, and melancholy melody have been sung for countless years. My hometown is the land beneath my feet. In the eyes of young people, she is a brand-new "Jiaozhou", a city that is rising rapidly. Her muddy ancient roads and potholed dirt roads have quietly turned into wide roads, and her low thatched huts and simple bungalows have gradually grown. He became tall and straight. I am like a grass on this land, taking root here, absorbing the nutrients of this land, spreading its leaves, and enjoying the sunshine here. I know that this small town cannot compare with the liveliness of Qingdao, the prosperity of Beijing, and the brilliance of Shanghai. However, here are the simple folk customs and friendly local accent; here are the dearest parents and dearest friends; here are the familiar vegetation and winding streets. What is left here is every sweet smile and every bitter tear in the past eighteen years.
When the sun shines through the window, you can see bits of dust dancing in the wind. Where will they go next moment? Where is their hometown? Ah, my dear hometown, from the sycamore trees outside the window when you were babbling, to the soft earth when you were a toddler, and now, the asphalt roads that run through your body. I know that over the past eighteen years, you have grown up with me. Every inch of land here is imprinted by the river of time, just like every corner of my deep memory is engraved with words about you. Ah, my dear hometown, I will love you the same no matter you are rich in resources and talented, or you have a low thatched hut and bitter well water. The memory I want to cherish is like the bright moon in the dark sky of my hometown. No matter where I step, it is the fullest moon and the most beautiful light in my life. Maybe one day, like a wanderer, I will pick up my bags and head for a distant place. But one day, I will nestle in your warm embrace and enjoy the lights. Who is singing in the dim moonlight? My dear hometown, the place where I take root. Can't forget, wandering in the end of the world, where is the song, nostalgic! Hiding in your arms, I softly chanted: "The dew is white tonight, and the moon is bright in my hometown..." Instructor: Zheng Zhaoye loves his hometown, Class 15, Grade 2, Jiaozhou Experimental Middle School. Tian Shaojie's hometown is the place where generals who have spent their entire lives in the military can take off their heavy armor. , a place to spend your old age. Hometown is a place where wandering poets can look up at the moon and shed tears of homesickness. Hometown is a place where a longing wanderer can write tearful letters and travel through thousands of mountains and rivers but still cannot reach it. For me, my hometown is the pure land under my feet at this moment. It is the place where I will fly to another place in a few years but still dream about it. It is the spiritual harbor where I can dock at any time during the storm. I missed the history of my hometown. I have never seen ancient city walls with peeling walls and wind-eroded plaster; I have never seen solemn temples with faded vermillion paint; and I have never seen muddy and winding dirt roads. But I have witnessed the development of my hometown. Since I was born, I have walked through the streets of my hometown time and time again. I have seen majestic and modern buildings rising from the ground; I have seen the widening and flattening of asphalt roads leading to the future; I have seen row upon row of private houses shaded by green trees; I saw a dazzling array of shops and looked forward to the future. I grew up with my hometown. It breaks out of the ground like a seed sprouts, growing vigorously with green youthful vitality. And at the same time, I am deeply rooted here. My roots hold tightly to this land, absorbing its essence and nourishing my aura. I thought that if I had the chance to venture out into the world in the future, I would be farther and farther away from my hometown, but my roots are still deeply rooted here, so this has been pulled into a tight string, spanning between me and between hometowns. Every time the local accent is gently played, the strings tremble, and the pain of homesickness penetrates into the heart. And this is only because I love my hometown deeply and passionately. I love my hometown. I love her in the sunny spring when she piles up all kinds of charming styles with colorful colors. I love her in the prosperous and rich summer, covering the streets with the fragrance of trees. I love her in the autumn when the sky is blue, spreading the joy of harvest. The earth; I love her, in the snow-covered winter, it turns the noise into silence, and makes the restless heart calm down and look forward to the sound of spring. I love her spring, summer, autumn and winter, which paint my youth with bright colors. The hometown caressed the general's wounds and healed his pain. The hometown wiped away the poet's tears and comforted the loneliness in his heart. The hometown unloaded the traveler's luggage and patted his clothes stained with travel dust. And my hometown is to me - when I saw all the things in the world and was very embarrassed and exhausted, my hometown opened her heart and said: "Come back, kid!" So I staggered back, walked into the embrace of my hometown, and sat down. , spread out the fatigue along the way, and count the dust of a lifetime. All this is because I love my hometown. Instructor: Zheng Zhao, Class 1 and Class 2, Ye Xianglian, Jiaozhou Experimental Middle School, Li Xiaofei. The plane flew across the sky like a bird, leaving behind a long line like smoke. It was a homesickness line, with one end connected to Wu Ye and the other Connected to hometown. After waiting for 1 hour, 25 minutes and 4 seconds, the air-conditioning at Liuting Airport was very strong, but I noticed that everyone was sweating heavily on their foreheads. My mother was restless, her stiletto heels tapping against the marble in the airport. Brick, it became more and more irritating, my aunt complained, and the silence suddenly invaded, but after a while, "dong dong" and "dong dong" sounded again... "Fly, plane, the fifth master is here," go ahead Tanfeng's brother shouted loudly from afar, and a group of people suddenly stood up and crowded towards the exit. I waited on tiptoes when two gray-haired old men appeared in my field of vision. "Fifth Master!" Fifth Master was the fifth eldest in the family. He went to Taiwan with the army. Many years passed in a flash. In 1989, he received a call from Fifth Master in Kaohsiung, so his brother who was born that year was I was given the name "Kaohsiung", and after waiting for many years, I finally came back! Little Yangshu stepped back slowly and sat on the car driving on the highway. The scene outside the window was flying very fast, just like the past twenty or thirty years. Mr. Wu didn't say much, just stared out the window. , he wants to pick up the memories from twenty or thirty years ago! No one spoke, they wanted the old man to truly integrate into this land.
The night was getting dark, and the window outside the window was getting blurry, but Master Wu couldn't help but look out the window and "show off" to Grandma Wu from Taiwan, pointing and pointing, his tone full of pride! But after a while, he became surprised and asked about the place names like a child, "Haier Industrial Park, Haier Avenue, Sanlihe Park, New City, New Century, Wealth Center," Dad quoted the place names like the name of a dish. The uncle listened, smiled, and showed off. He was so energetic, as if he was twenty or thirty years younger. Mom took the fifth uncle's hand and said, "Uncle Wu, you are home. You are really back. This is you." Hometown." The lights in the car were dim and a few rays of light came in from the street lights. I noticed that the fifth master's eyes were filled with tears. After dinner, Mr. Wu took an advertising flyer from the sales office and studied it carefully. I leaned over and saw that it was a sales flyer for Century Garden that had been delivered with the newspaper in the morning. Mr. Wu asked me in surprise: " "Is this a house in Jiaozhou?" "Hey, Master Wu, of course, there are already many high-rises in Jiaozhou!" Master Wu showed an expression of disbelief and couldn't help but gasp: "Look at this apartment, look at the lighting, it's really nice. What a big change at home! I remembered that there were a lot of materials about the Jiaozhou Yangko Festival in the study. Master Wu would love to read them. When I came back with a pile of materials, Grandma Wu was lying on the rocking chair and sound asleep. Why did the fifth master fall asleep so quickly? Full of smiles... Early the next morning, I was woken up by my mother, "What, Fifth Master is going to the Yangko Festival to watch Yangko!" Hey, I really regretted the information I gave him last night. In desperation, I had to put on my clothes. clothing. As soon as I left the room, Master Wu pestered me and asked, "Is there still a Yangko Festival?" "Master Wu, Yangko in Jiaozhou has become a world intangible cultural heritage. The Yangko Festival is held every year." Master Wu was as excited as a child. child. "Let's go, let's go quickly." Dad went downstairs and stopped a car, and Li Yang's Crazy English was playing in the car. The fifth master asked in surprise: "You also learn English?" "Of course, China is going to hold the Olympic Games, and Qingdao is going to hold the Olympic sailing competition! Of course the taxi driver must also actively participate!" the driver replied enthusiastically. When getting off the car, the driver greeted him kindly: "Get off the car and walk slowly." "Hey, wait, old uncle, you left your mobile phone in the car." The fifth master touched his pocket and said, "Hey, I am getting old. I'm out of my mind." The fifth master trembled and took the cell phone handed over by the driver: "Thank you, young man!" "Uncle, what are you talking about?" "Fifth master, there are a lot of things like this in Jiaozhou. ! What’s the point of picking up gold and doing good deeds?” After getting off the bus, I said to Mr. Wu, who looked back at the taxi in the distance. "Yes! There is still a lot of humanity in my hometown!" After returning from watching Yangko, Mr. Wu stared blankly at the horizon, "It would be great if my old friends in Taiwan could also like Yangko!" "Master Wu, Taiwan He's a Chinese child! How can he miss home if you are so homesick? Don't worry, he will come back. Those old friends of yours will definitely fall in love with Yangge!" I looked into Mr. Wu's dark brown eyes. Full of perseverance and confidence. The sun sets, and the fiery red Japanese yen hangs in the sky, so big, so round... Instructor: Liu Bin along the way Li Dandan, Class 14, Grade 2, Jiaozhou Experimental Middle School Who said that time is only a waste of youth, and the process of growing up is a process The greatest transformation, come all the way and witness it together. "Ding ding dong dong..." A few wooden boards, a pair of long nails, a few simple tools, and a whole morning of hammering. With the smile on the boy's face, I, a rocking chair, was born. He wiped me carefully, as if protecting a treasure. I looked at this simple earthen house. It was dark and low. The bottles and cans under the corner of the house easily showed the scene of rain outside and inside. In the small courtyard, the "head" of a ladle was exposed in a tank filled with water. Still, I was overjoyed that, at any rate, I was the only decent piece of furniture in the house. The young man thinks that the most luxurious time is when he holds a few little books bought from chopping firewood, lies on top of me, and is lazy for a while. When the smoke from the kitchens is curling up, he reluctantly puts the little books into the iron. Box - your own bookcase. Lighting fires, cooking, and waiting for the return of his father and brother from the fields. This is the precocious maturity bestowed on young people in those difficult years. The afterglow of the setting sun had not yet dissipated, and my mother, who was a sickly young man, sat on me while she was sewing and sewing, humming the tune "Yi Yi Ya Ya" and holding the soles of the family's shoes. This is the most touching moment for me. Even though we are poor, we still use our small contributions to encourage each other to live more bravely. Like everyone in my family, I firmly believe that tomorrow will be better. Time flies, and when I come back to my senses, I have made a lot of progress. The boy sitting on me, oh no, young man, has obviously accumulated a lot of weight in life over the years. He is taller and stronger, and his skin is a healthy wheat color. A chicken shed was built at home, and there were more "cluck, cluck" sounds in the silent yard. Happily, there are no longer green vegetables and grains on the dinner table. Eggs have become a good food to spice up the taste. Or you can sell them for cloth tickets and buy new clothes, which is enough to talk about for many days. At this time, his leisure time lying on my body was no longer boring, and he was accompanied by a radio. This is a rare thing. I often accompanied my youth to listen to broadcasters preaching about making one's own wealth, breaking down feudal superstitions, and also listened to a long list of unknown dramas. In the evenings when the power supply was not long but suddenly cut off, he would sit on me and talk quietly to my mother. He said he wanted to get rich and get out of poverty.
He said that he did not want to be like the villagers who only wanted a few tile houses and a wife in their whole life. I admired him secretly in my heart and wished him well. Others were still plowing the fields honestly. He listened to the introduction of new crop varieties on the radio, bought them, experimented and tasted them repeatedly, and he never tired of it. Some people ridiculed him for being impractical, but he still went his own way. After several barren years, he managed to survive, grafting fruits and vegetables in greenhouses. He made everything that others said was impossible possible. days, become rich. A lot of new furniture was added to the house and several rooms were built, and he was very attentive and even left me at his table. As he and his brother said, as time goes by, he couldn't bear to leave me! The wheel of time, rolling endlessly, takes away a lot and brings a lot. Time flies by, and in a blink of an eye, he is already an old man of nearly seventy. He often joked to his wife: "I grew up with China, so I can't keep up." I am also an old man. After so many years of ups and downs, I look at the soil. The house was transformed into a tile-roofed house, then to a two-bedroom and one-living room, watching the black-and-white TV change to a color TV and then to a home theater, watching him and them say goodbye to poverty and ignorance bit by bit, and the days are getting better. I can't help but lament the changes in the world. . He still likes to sit with me, make a cup of tea, close his eyes and meditate. Growth is an inevitable path that cannot be refused. Metabolism, elimination of the old and innovation are such simple yet profound laws. When someone asked him about his path to entrepreneurship, he would smile lightly and say: "Development is the current of you, me and the rest of society. We must be brave in innovation and reform, because we believe that tomorrow will be better." Okay." I smiled too, even though no one could see it, but I still smiled emotionally. Who said that time is so powerful that it can destroy everything, and it is ridiculous. The traces of growth in these changes will always be treasured in the bottom of my heart. Because I have experienced it deeply, I will be better able to face the present and look forward to the future. Instructor: Han Kun ***Drinking a River of Water Liu Yang, Grade 2, Class 9, Jiaozhou Experimental Middle School Water is very spiritual. You see, on one side of us is the vastness of the ocean, and on the other side is the melting snow. In the broad chest of 9.6 million square kilometers, there are still two thousands of miles of blood, flowing with our rolling blood and unyielding soul. Water originates from drops, collects in streams, travels in ridges and acres, and flourishes in rivers. Yes, when the water gathers together, it becomes a grand river. And rivers can give birth to civilization. A nation, such as the Chinese nation, always has its own mother river, such as the Yangtze River or the Yellow River, which connects the entire nation—a river related to blood, tradition, and language. The lives of us descendants of Yan and Huang have been infected by this river, and the river has been connected with our blood. The only difference between us is that you live at the head of the river, I live at the end of the river, and we all drink from the same river. July is outdoors, August is in the house, September is at home, and in October crickets come under my bed. Water, transformed into a river, generously gives us such a free and wonderful life. We walked carefree by the river, letting the waves splash on our moss-mottled straw sandals. Who has ever walked close to the water, singing, laughing, and crying? Lady and gentleman, boatman and passer-by, mother and children, and even time and memory, look at each other across the same river from a distance, forming a recurring day and night. However, God created the countryside, but humans are going to create cities. "Kankan cutting sandalwood", so many loggers appeared on the shore, a shining ax was raised above the head, and fell hard again and again, echoing the sound of flying wood chips, knocking on human beings Numb eardrums. However, this voice still does not help... As human civilization develops and takes off day by day, the civilization of water and even the life of water are fading away little by little. Dirty, chaotic, ferocious, terrifying... One after another, hats that should not belong to water were forcibly put on it. The river that comes from afar, from ancient times, is no longer "clear and rippled". Our mother, our mother river, is undergoing hardships. How could the vast hometown of 9.6 million square kilometers and the vast family of 1.3 billion brothers and sisters bear to let Mother River be insulted and trampled on again! From the sacred Qinghai-Tibet Plateau - the place where the condor flies, the source of the Yangtze River and the source of the Yellow River gurgling out, trickling in, one goes south, one goes north, one crosses the mountains and rivers, and the other swings across the grasslands, nurturing the southern and northern territories. , witnessed the high mountains and long waters. Is it true that all we can do is excessive logging and wanton grass cultivation, making the Yellow River as muddy as quicksand? Is it true that all we can do is discharge sewage at will, use water extravagantly, and make the Yangtze River winding and dirty for thousands of miles? I don't believe it, I don't want to believe it, and I won't believe it... In the urban world of steel and concrete, despite its prosperity and development, it is difficult to find the handwriting of God - the true beauty of harmony should be found in the sound of the water. , oily green. I often stand on the bank of the river and look into the distance - this bank is full of tall buildings, gears and vehicles, a city with bright lights and busy traffic, but what about the other bank? Will there be village girls picking weeds, rituals for praying for rain, and dotted tribes that make a living by fishing and hunting... If such a river really existed, what a beautiful Milky Way it would be on earth. Perhaps, it is enough for such a river to exist in everyone's heart. In that case, people will no longer have the heart to drive away the chirping of birds with the roar of machines, and will not agree to replace it with too much bone-like steel and concrete. With green trees and fragrant flowers, we will not have the heart to hurt our mother river and destroy the smart civilization of water.
We, the Chinese nation, 1.3 billion sons and daughters, as long as everyone cherishes a drop of water, a hundred acres of lakes will be added to the territory of mainland China invisibly; as long as everyone plants a grass and protects a leaf, It is equivalent to doubling the vast grassland of Inner Mongolia and multiplying the dense Yunnan-Guizhou mountain forests by thousands of hectares! However, conversely, if everyone wastes a drop of water, everyone throws a piece of garbage, and everyone wastes a grain of rice, once this small number is multiplied by 1.3 billion, how will it be measured and how can it be recovered? We only have one home, a unique home; I am afraid we can only have water once, the only time. Let’s start from a little bit, take care of our home and cherish water civilization. Let’s drink water from a river, remember its source, and let the water flow down forever... Instructor: Wang Lingyun The friendship between green leaves and roots Li Haijiao, Class 16, Grade 2, Jiaozhou Experimental Middle School When I lowered my head, I touched that piece of life with the most humble posture I nurture my land, when I gently feel the delicacy of the sand, gravel, and soil that has not passed away for thousands of years, when I carefully put one ten millionth of the soil into a glass bottle... With one raise of my hand, with one throw, , are all the affection of green leaves to roots. The train leaves a yellowing memory on the rails, and the rhythm is like the sound of your heartbeat. The rolling mountains gradually recede, and nostalgia and reluctance seem so pale and feeble. Every second, I am moving away from you, and the date of return has not yet been determined. The strange city ignores the strange city. I am lonely and wander in the lonely city. The distance between you and me gradually extends to infinity. That night there were stars, leaning alone in front of the window, my thoughts flew back to you. Many years ago, on a certain day of the month, under a similar night sky, in a warm fenced yard in front of a neat brick house, my grandma hugged me as a young child, nestling in front of your quiet distant mountains. The unique noise and tranquility of summer, the endless stories of the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl in heaven and earth, linger in your bright moonlight, sleeping in the tranquility of your green distant mountains and gentle moonlight. "The moon is the brightness of my hometown", this may be the affection of green leaves for their roots. I still remember that when we were young, we chased and played in the summer when your flowers were in full bloom. We were angry for competing for the beautiful flowers, and were surprised by the colorful butterflies flying among the flowers. We repeated the monotonous but not boring game all day long. The little dancing figures in the sun cheerfully interpret simple happiness. The small clods of soil in front of the house, the potholes made by the rain, deeply and shallowly write down the perfect jet lag we walked together, whether they stick to it. Does your land tell the love of green leaves to roots all day long? The train still leaves traces of twists and turns. This time, I am getting closer to you every second, and gradually see your green mountains coming into my eyes, your rivers, your starry sky... When I set foot on that dreamy land Surrounded by the black earth, breathing the smell of earth in the air, the larch tree at the corner of the mountain drew several more rings, recording several cycles of spring, autumn, winter and summer. The cheerful river in childhood still flows with that The ever-purifying water imprints the scenery on the shore with nostalgia in my heart. I watch the clouds roll in and relax with my hometown people at sunrise and sunset. The wrinkles of time have been written on the faces of the folks I am familiar with yet unfamiliar to, which are traces of the simplicity and beauty of their ancestors. They are young people who "see mountains as mountains and water as water", middle-aged people who "see mountains as other than mountains and water as water", and old people who "see mountains as mountains and water as water" . The landscape of my hometown has witnessed the emotional changes of generations, but it has never aged or changed. It is the wisdom and indifference of watching the changes. Following the warm smoke, I opened the door. My grandma's hair was dyed with the vicissitudes of life, and she had aged very kindly. The me who was once held in her arms as a treasure occupied all the sight of her muddy old eyes. I want to kneel gently at her feet, hold her mottled hands, want to nestle in her arms, listen to the endless stories, and count the countless stars, which is the love of green leaves for their roots. Mountains are still mountains, water is still water, and people are still the same people! I may be separated from you in a while, maybe temporarily, or permanently. Time will carve deep and shallow traces on our destiny, just like the annual rings on your tree trunk.
Danxiang