People's faces are full of chill.
My mother and I are walking in a quiet street. It's very cold. Even wearing a thick sweater, the north wind still comes in from the small hole in the sweater, which makes people almost breathless. Looking at a fallen leaf swept by the wind, I can't help thinking: another tough winter!
At this time, a thin figure appeared in the distance, sitting alone on the ground.
Against the cold wind, we walked quickly forward, and our backs gradually became clear. ...
That's a beggar. She is about 30 years old, but her brow is full of vicissitudes. She only wore thin clothes and trembled slightly in the cold wind.
Another gust of wind blew, and she held the child tighter. That's probably her son, wrapped in two quilts, snuggling in his mother's arms. Perhaps, it was his mother who snuggled up to him. She clung to the child. She wanted to give half her temperature to the child, but forgot that she was still sitting on the freezing ground, still shivering. ...
At this time, another north wind roared past us with fallen leaves, and the grass turned pale and the wood fell off, which was extremely biting and fierce.
She shuddered. However, I saw her wrap the child in the quilt again. Then, without any hesitation, she took off one of her coats and gently covered the child.
Her body is like leaves in late autumn, shaking badly, but the warmth between her eyebrows and eyes can drive away the cold. She looked at the sleeping face of the child, and a warm smile appeared on her face. The fundus is infinite love and infinite warmth. ...
She held the child tightly, stood up from the ground and walked away step by step ... Only the child in her arms was still asleep, as if she didn't know the predicament he was facing, or he knew that he would never be cold, because no matter how strong the wind was, his mother could shelter him, leaving him only warmth.
The cold wind blew, and suddenly a dress fell on me, and a warm current spread all over my body. Looking back, I only saw my mother's face warm …
2. Imitate the composition written behind one day, walking on the road, the phone rang, and a young girl's voice came from the microphone: "Dad, come back quickly, I miss you so much!" Intuitively, I know it's a wrong number again, because my daughter's voice is too familiar to me. It is not surprising that such things happen these days. I said angrily, "Wrong number!" He hung up the phone.
In the next few days, this phone call came from time to time, which made me upset. Sometimes I refuse rudely, and sometimes I simply don't answer.
That day, this phone call came again and again. What is different in peacetime is that I have been making unremitting calls over there and didn't answer. I finally held back my temper and began to answer, but the girl's weak voice said, "Dad, come back quickly." I miss you so much! " Mom said there was nothing wrong with this figure. This is your mobile phone number. Dad, it hurts so much! Mom says you are busy at work and take care of me alone every day. I am exhausted. Dad, I know you have worked hard. If you can't come, will you kiss Niu Niu again on the phone? "I can't refuse the child's naive request. I kissed the microphone several times and heard the child's intermittent voice: "Thank you … Dad, I am so … happy, so … happy …"
Just as I gradually became interested in this wrong number, it was not a girl who answered the phone, but a deep female voice: "I'm sorry, sir, I must have given you a lot of trouble these days." I am really sorry! " I want to call you to apologize after dealing with this matter. The child's life is very hard. She was born with bone cancer. Her father died in a car accident not long ago. I really dare not tell her the news. The daily chemotherapy and constant pain have tortured the child pitifully enough. When the pain was the most unbearable for her, she always shouted her father who had encouraged her to be strong. I really couldn't bear to see my child like this, so I just made up a mobile phone number that day ... "
"How is the child now?" I can't wait to ask.
"Niu Niu had already gone. You must have kissed her on the phone at that time, because she left with a smile, clutching the mobile phone that could hear the voice of' Dad' when she left ... "
If you are touched, reply a post as a gift for that little girl! Please don't let the pillar sink. I hope the little girl can see so many brothers and sisters in heaven and keep blessing her. I am here to thank everyone.
References:
From the composition bar
3. Imitate the nostalgic writing technique of Autumn Back. An essay of no less than 600 words once agreed that our feelings will not fade with the torrent of time and will never be forgotten.
Close your eyes and think about us. Under the traction of fate, we gather here to laugh and be happy together. We are destined to be together for three years.
Two years ago, we walked in here with our schoolbags and luggage on our backs, and since then we have embarked on a road of no return. Yes, the friendship is so deep that we don't want to look back. At first, everything was strange, strange campus, strange faces, and everything here made us miss the past constantly. When we grew up here and were about to leave here, everything here was so sad.
My dear friend, many years later, will you still remember us running on the playground together? We read aloud together in the classroom. We stayed in the dormitory until midnight?
I remember the fun sports meeting that year. We have been practicing for that sports meeting. I don't know how many times I fell and scratched my knee, but I still got up. This is like a person's life, we will fall, but we must be strong. The old class tried to change people many times, but we all refused. We don't agree. This is a kind of growth, just like a person's life, bumpy, but we must persist and not give up. On the day of the game, the old class went back early, leaving us to play there. As we know, Lao Ban's home is far away. If he stays after the game, he will miss the bus home, so we don't blame him. Watching the old class of other classes cheer for their own class on the playground, our hearts are all shabby. But it doesn't matter. In the end, we won. We didn't live up to the expectations and trust of the old class, nor did we live up to the injuries we suffered in training for nothing.
The sunshine is mild and the years are quiet. The past years, like an old TV series, kept pouring out of my mind, making people laugh and cry. Soon, we will be separated. I wonder if we will meet again today next year.
"I began to miss the experimental junior high school before I left." In fact, I thought about this sentence for a long time, but I just didn't know how to say it. It pains me to think that we will say goodbye next summer.
July is another season of parting. Before, I was still young and didn't know how to miss after I left. Now that I have grown up, I gradually understand the affection.
In the early summer of that year, it was summer vacation. The parent-teacher conference is over.
Liz and I went back there. The campus was silent at that time. Just like a cup of boiling water suddenly cooled down, we feel that the breath of parting is one step closer to us. We walked through the empty playground and walked on the tree-lined path next to the basketball court. Sunlight shines on the grass through the branches and leaves, like a group of dancing elves. In the empty campus, we can't hear any other sounds except cicadas singing unfinished' farewell songs' in the trees. Walking on the tree-lined path, we returned to the classroom with countless memories. Pushing open the door of the classroom, a strong sense of loneliness came on. We kept going in circles in the classroom, taking more and more steps. In a trance, I seem to see all the people, we are all sitting in the classroom, and the old class is still talking about the boring English on the blackboard, feeling that nothing has changed.
Class 20, we have to say goodbye. By next September, there will be a new Class 20 in your arms. Now, we will become stronger and work harder in the future. Because, we are from Class 20.
The original us, the original story, the original laughter, I am missing, we are all missing.
Although we are still sitting in the same classroom, today next year, we will have parted ways or become strangers. What will it be like in a year? We don't know anyone.
Dear guys, after graduation, no matter ten, twenty or thirty years, none of us will forget it, and no one will forget it.
Outside the window, the autumn wind is bleak, and the trees downstairs begin to shed leaves. Trees can't stop the leaves, just as we can't stop the passage of time.
The wind is still blowing, it blows away the fallen leaves and takes away our youth.
4. Imitate the writing technique of Missing Autumn. Writing a composition contains a lot of nostalgia for autumn. For me, there are also many topics worth talking about. How many poets at home and abroad praised it for being so wonderful! Today we should also talk about autumn.
For some people, it is sad and lonely to meet autumn since ancient times, but autumn is a season of harvest and wealth for farmers. This is a season for farmers to smile forever, and it is a beautiful festival. At the end of the frontier fortress, the yellow sunset sets little by little. Every time I see this scene, I don't feel sad and want to cry, but I am crying again. In late autumn, sitting at my desk, I occasionally look at the dark indigo trees swaying outside the window. There is no longer a sunny shadow on the earth. Looking at the children's tight clothes chains and long hair fluttering in the wind, we never put on more clothes and sweaters. Autumn! It also contains a hint of fierceness, and autumn is like a "big autumn consideration." The autumn wind blows around, and the wind blows on the face with a cool feeling. Don't say how wonderful it is. The autumn wind is invisible and intangible, which is very "awesome"! It is always naughty blowing from my side, which makes me feel embarrassed. The autumn wind messed up my hair and really made me feel at a loss! In autumn, how can I forget moon cakes? The Mid-Autumn Festival is quietly coming to us. The moon is full, and it is full in this desolate month. During the Mid-Autumn Festival family reunion, we really sat on the balcony eating moon cakes, which seemed so helpless. The Mid-Autumn Festival is a cycle, a cycle, and another cycle has passed. Here it comes, here it goes, here it comes again. How wonderful. This undoubtedly shows a desolation. Here, delicious moon cakes are sweet in the mouth and bitter in the stomach. At that time, my family was eating delicious food when I was in Acacia, and moon cakes of various flavors were really enjoyable! After the Mid-Autumn Festival, it is followed by the annual, sacred and solemn festival-National Day, which is called the Golden Week, alas! After a month of intense and complicated study, I can always relax during the Golden Week. National Day is solemn.
5. Write a 500-word essay on the topic of imitating Zhu Ziqing's back. The main topic is that my father is a Woodenhead, but this is because he never seems to be at a loss about the feelings of his family. Maybe after a long time, my mother can no longer stand my father's indifference and will never come back again soon.
Being with my father, I was still young, and naturally I didn't understand why my mother left. Whenever asked, my father always replied, "Your mother has gone to work far away, and it will take some time to come back." However, in this case, I actually nodded and believed it.
He is a quiet man. If I don't ask questions, he can stay in the room all noon, just staring at the ceiling and not knowing what he is thinking. His eyes are deep and quiet, but at certain times they will show some sadness and decline.
And the days are passing by in such an environment, and I am used to it. On this day, my father and I went to the supermarket downstairs to buy some daily necessities. However, when I first walked out of the Loudaokou, I saw that my father's eyes seemed to have some different colors. He held my powerful big hands and seemed to tremble with excitement.
I followed his flashing eyes and suddenly a familiar figure came into my sight. Mom, a strange word seems to have appeared in my mind. At the moment, her charm still exists in a black lapel down coat, and her appearance has not changed much from my memory. Maybe it's because of the cold weather. At the moment, she kept rubbing her slender white hands. Dad and mom talked for a long time, and I was dragged away by my dad. During this time, I saw my father actually lit a cigarette for himself. His movements seem a little rusty and clumsy, and the trembling flames are silently extinguished in the wind again and again, which makes him look even more embarrassed.
It seems that what awaits him will be an unpredictable problem. Once again, mother and father inevitably struck a spark. However, in a short time, my father was dumb again because of my mother's words. I vaguely seem to hear that it seems to be the custody of Lele.
My mother came to my side, touched my head and gently took my tender hand. Our figure faded away until we reached the corner. I couldn't help looking back. My father seemed to see those eyes looking back at him. He raised his arm and waved, but a snowflake inadvertently fell on his gaunt cheek, then melted into a drop of cold liquid and slowly slipped. Well, look at what you wrote. I don't know how to do it. Is this the composition requested by your teacher? .
6. Write a composition with no less than 600 words. Looking for autumn contains a lot of homesickness. For me, there are many topics worth talking about. How many poets at home and abroad praised it for being so wonderful! Today we should also talk about autumn.
For some people, it is sad and lonely to meet autumn since ancient times, but autumn is a season of harvest and wealth for farmers. This is a season for farmers to smile forever, and it is a beautiful festival. At the end of the frontier fortress, the yellow sunset sets little by little. Every time I see this scene, I don't feel sad and want to cry, but I am crying again. In late autumn, sitting at my desk, I occasionally look at the dark indigo trees swaying outside the window. There is no longer a sunny shadow on the earth. Looking at the children's tight clothes chains and long hair fluttering in the wind, we never put on more clothes and sweaters. Autumn! It also contains a hint of fierceness, and autumn is like a "big autumn consideration." The autumn wind blows around, and the wind blows on the face with a cool feeling. Don't say how wonderful it is. The autumn wind is invisible and intangible, which is very "awesome"! It is always naughty blowing from my side, which makes me feel embarrassed. The autumn wind messed up my hair and really made me feel at a loss! In autumn, how can I forget moon cakes? The Mid-Autumn Festival is quietly coming to us. The moon is full, and it is full in this desolate month. During the Mid-Autumn Festival family reunion, we really sat on the balcony eating moon cakes, which seemed so helpless. The Mid-Autumn Festival is a cycle, a cycle, and another cycle has passed. Here it comes, here it goes, here it comes again. How wonderful. This undoubtedly shows a desolation. Here, delicious moon cakes are sweet in the mouth and bitter in the stomach. At that time, when my family was in Acacia, they were all eating delicious food. Mooncakes with various flavors were really enjoyable! After the Mid-Autumn Festival, it is followed by the annual, sacred and solemn festival-National Day, which is called the Golden Week, alas! After a month of intense and complicated study, I can always relax during the Golden Week. National Day is solemn.
7. Write a short composition 1 by memorizing the sixth paragraph by Zhu Ziqing. It was late autumn, the dew was cold and the wind was cold. The north wind shook the old tree unscrupulously and barked at the bare treetops. The yellow leaves on the ground were rolled up by the wind and circled in the air. They just fell and were rolled up ... People's faces were full of chill. My mother and I are walking in a quiet street. It's very cold. Even wearing a thick sweater, the north wind still comes in from the small hole in the sweater, which makes people almost breathless. Looking at a fallen leaf swept by the wind, I can't help thinking: another tough winter! At this time, a thin figure appeared in the distance, sitting alone on the ground. Against the cold wind, we walked quickly forward, and our backs gradually became clear ... that was a beggar. She is about 30 years old, but her brow is full of vicissitudes. She only wore thin clothes and trembled slightly in the cold wind. Another gust of wind blew, and she held the child tighter. That's probably her son, wrapped in two quilts, snuggling in his mother's arms. Perhaps, it was his mother who snuggled up to him. She snuggled up to the child and hugged her tightly. She couldn't wait to give half of her body temperature to the child, but forgot that she was still sitting on the freezing ground, still shaking ... At this time, another north wind roared past us with fallen leaves, making her pale at the sight of the grass Buddha, and the wood was torn off by it, which was extremely biting and fierce. She shuddered. However, I saw her wrap the child in the quilt again. Then, without any hesitation, she took off one of her coats and gently covered the child. Her body is like leaves in late autumn, shaking badly, but the warmth between her eyebrows and eyes can drive away the cold. She looked at the sleeping face of the child, and a warm smile appeared on her face. The fundus is infinite love and infinite warmth ... She holds the child tightly, stands up from the ground and walks away step by step ... It's just that the child in her arms is still asleep, as if she doesn't know the predicament he faces, or he knows that he will never be cold, because no matter what. The cold wind blew, and suddenly a dress fell on me, and a warm current spread all over my body. Looking back, I only saw my mother's face warm. ...
I am afraid to look behind, because it is always so silent. Walking along the back, you can see everything, but you can't see the back you care about, and you can't see where your eyes fall. Then I will be distracted without scruple until my back suddenly turns and my expression immediately calms down, but in fact I am panicked; I'm afraid that a strange face will suddenly approach me. 1 When I was a child, I saw the most figure, as if it were his father. On many occasions, my father always walks in front of us. Or any occasion. Of course, if he walks behind me, there will be no natural sight and no impression; It happened that my father's back appeared repeatedly in middle school texts and other reading materials. A gentle shadow, generous and powerful. It belongs to tolerance. When I grow up, I often read without an umbrella. I don't like to take it. In fact, it often rains in the mountainous climate of my hometown. Once it rains, it won't stop for a few minutes like Xiamen, but it will last. I think the reason why I didn't bring an umbrella at that time was that the umbrella at home was too heavy and long. I was short at that time. I brought a long umbrella when I was in the fifth grade, and I couldn't hold it in front of the teaching building. It was opened by a tall female classmate and was laughed at by her classmates. 15 years later, I met this girl again in the small street of my hometown. She is married and her appearance has changed, but I still remember her curled up with an umbrella, although I am much taller than her now. I don't remember if I was missing an umbrella. Dad will give me an umbrella when it rains, and I'm still afraid of him. The more scared I am, the more I hope he won't give me an umbrella, but it's impossible. My mother is always busier than my father, and her home is between my mother's school and mine. My mother can't walk a long way to see me off, especially when I go out. My father will say, I have already said, take an umbrella on a sunny day, and I am full and hungry. Then pass me the umbrella. I took it silently, and then walked behind in small steps. I think I fell behind on purpose. Father found that as long as he slowed down, I would slow down. So you can see his back completely from the back. Sometimes, I will see the rain coming obliquely, and my father's umbrella is not straight, so I will spray my clothes a little. On another occasion, my father lent an umbrella to a mother and son on the way. Tell them that my father and I can take an umbrella. I watched them walk away. Father never looked back. He walked ahead in the rain. I called my father. Maybe the rain was loud and my father didn't hear it. When a person walks, he will bury his head without thinking. Every time someone stops you, you always walk with your head down. Too many times, I just want to walk silently without talking, if I like my fellow travelers around me very much. At this time, the pace of walking suddenly slowed down. Will often inadvertently see the back of others. What you see at this time is either silent or irrelevant, or you can see it at a glance, only the back, which takes up too many pictures, but you can't see through it. Two different people will walk randomly. I once dreamed of my back in a dream. A strange face seems like a lifetime ago, and suddenly I feel that the world has been hollowed out, leaving only a pale face. When I wake up, I am glad that such an expression face has only appeared once in my dream, and I have never seen it in reality. In reality, it is distance, far and near at most. It's like walking through the traffic in the back. If you want to keep up or pull, you will be blocked by the garage. Fortunately, they are not close at hand, but the opposite turn and shoulder are missed. So would you just look at the back?
Suggest choosing 1 and 1 to imitate the image!
8. Ask for an essay that imitates Zhu Ziqing's "The Back". I am afraid to look at the back, because it is always so silent.
Walking along the back, you can see everything, but you can't see the back you care about, and you can't see where your eyes fall. Then I will be distracted without scruple until my back suddenly turns and my expression immediately calms down, but in fact I am panicked; I'm afraid that a strange face will suddenly approach me.
1 When I was a child, I saw the most figure, as if it were his father. On many occasions, my father always walks in front of us.
Or any occasion. Of course, if he walks behind me, there will be no natural sight and no impression; It happened that my father's back appeared repeatedly in middle school texts and other reading materials.
A gentle shadow, generous and powerful. It belongs to tolerance.
When I grow up, I often read without an umbrella. I don't like to take it.
In fact, it often rains in the mountainous climate of my hometown. Once it rains, it won't stop for a few minutes like Xiamen, but it will last. I think the reason why I didn't bring an umbrella at that time was that the umbrella at home was too heavy and long.
I was short at that time. I brought a long umbrella when I was in the fifth grade, and I couldn't hold it in front of the teaching building.
It was opened by a tall female classmate and was laughed at by her classmates. 15 years later, I met this girl again in the small street of my hometown. She is married and her appearance has changed, but I still remember her curled up with an umbrella, although I am much taller than her now.
I don't remember if I was missing an umbrella. Dad will give me an umbrella when it rains, and I'm still afraid of him.
The more scared I am, the more I hope he won't give me an umbrella, but it's impossible. My mother is always busier than my father, and her home is between my mother's school and mine. My mother can't walk a long way to see me off, especially when I go out. My father will say, I have already said, take an umbrella on a sunny day, and I am full and hungry.
Then pass me the umbrella. I took it silently, and then walked behind in small steps.
I think I fell behind on purpose. Father found that as long as he slowed down, I would slow down.
So you can see his back completely from the back. Sometimes, I will see the rain coming obliquely, and my father's umbrella is not straight, so I will spray my clothes a little.
On another occasion, my father lent an umbrella to a mother and son on the way. Tell them that my father and I can take an umbrella.
I watched them walk away. Father never looked back. He walked ahead in the rain. I called my father. Maybe the rain was loud and my father didn't hear it.
When a person walks, he will bury his head without thinking. Every time someone stops you, you always walk with your head down.
Too many times, I just want to walk silently without talking, if I like my fellow travelers around me very much. At this time, the pace of walking suddenly slowed down.
Will often inadvertently see the back of others. What you see at this time is either silent or irrelevant, or you can see it at a glance, only the back, which takes up too many pictures, but you can't see through it.
Two different people will walk randomly. I once dreamed of my back in a dream.
A strange face seems like a lifetime ago, and suddenly I feel that the world has been hollowed out, leaving only a pale face. When I wake up, I am glad that such an expression face has only appeared once in my dream, and I have never seen it in reality.
In reality, it is distance, far and near at most. It's like walking through the traffic in the back. If you want to keep up or pull, you will be blocked by the garage.
Fortunately, they are not close at hand, but the opposite turn and shoulder are missed. So would you just look at the back?
9. Write a 600-word composition by imitating the first volume of the eighth grade. The title is "My Father"
The person I respect most-my father. My father is a medical worker. His dark face is inlaid with a pair of god's eyes. He always smiles when he has something to do. Great, great.
My father worked in Taiping for eighteen years. He could have done many things in eighteen years. He could have created a world, but he worked quietly in this ordinary post for so many years and never complained. Finally, last year, I was promoted to the director of the township health center and became the director among only four staff members. However, I don't like this director, because since he became a director, he has gone home less often. Check my homework less; Talk to me less. He always said that he would take me to Lengshui River to play, but he was always dragged by trivial matters in the hospital and had no leisure at all. He always breaks his promise to me again and again.
Father is not only a serious and responsible person, but also a person who is good at inducing.
I remember once, my mother hit me, and I was very angry, so I scribbled my mother on the paper. My mother saw it and was very angry. Later, my father saw my mother's face full of sadness and asked her why. He talked to me. He said to me, "You shouldn't write about your mother like this. Listen, your mother can buy whatever you want. She is so kind to you. She will be sad if you write about her like this. " I listened to my father's teaching, silently shed tears and said nothing, so my father said, "You are angry with your mother, but her mother will always love you …" After my father's teaching, the next morning, I admitted my mistake to my mother and said "I'm sorry", and her sad face disappeared.
Some people say that maternal love is great, like a flood. And I want to say that fatherly love is also great, like a mountain. Give you spiritual encouragement and push you forward. This is my father, a responsible and induced person. This is the person I respect most-my father.
10. Have you ever been moved by the back, my friend? Have you ever thought that it's not just those unforgettable faces that leave a deep impression in life? Do you have attachment and nostalgia when the familiar or unfamiliar back disappears in the crowd? What did the expressionless figure turn away and tell you?
When my vision is blurred, I only see an outline. When my mind is fuzzy, I only remember one back. In my memory, there is a back that can never be erased. It was the moment when my mother turned and closed the door. She has to work the night shift, get up in the middle of the night and look at her sleeping son. That's so sweet. She was very pleased. She stepped on the quilt gently, tucked in the corner, pressed the quilt, looked at her son's sleeping posture, and felt very satisfied. Then she went out backwards and closed the door gently without making a sound. My son is in his eyes. In order to let his mother go to work with peace of mind and stop worrying about herself, he slept "correctly" without any disorder. He looked out from his eyelids and saw his mother's vague shadow through the faint night light reflected from the window. As soon as I turned around, I was gone. Finally, I heard the sound of closing the door below. The son knows that it is his mother who works the night shift. "Who will you think of when you are lonely? ..... "If this song was sung more than twenty years ago, I would say that what I want to remember most is my mother's shadow. Along the stone wall, silently along the root of the wall, there is no mother here, but she used to be here. As long as she is free, she can always be found here, and at most she won't go out of a little place around here. There is the sound of grass and earth in the gravel wall. I don't know why it smells good now, but I didn't think it was a pleasure at that time. It just adds a little loneliness and melancholy. The shadows of all kinds of flowers and trees leaned out of the wall, but there was no mother's smile. Kindness is not here; Happiness cannot be found. I want to see my mother's back suddenly appear in front of me. I want my mother to come over and shout, "How did you find this place?" You'd better get your mother's praise. Even without praise, I am happy, because my mother never criticizes, even if she blames, it is warm. I like to hear my mother's voice and feel her love. But without her support. Standing at this end of the road, looking at the long end, it is a stone wall, a narrow passage, and a bumpy stone road. I don't know when my mother will appear, but my eyes are praying and my heart is helpless and lonely. After a journey, I realized that what I gave my children was also a back. He walked in front and I followed, but he couldn't find me. He only saw my back, a seemingly indifferent back. When he grows up, he will know that there is a great word of love hidden behind it.