outer city wall
"Sleep, sleep, my dear baby, mother's hand shakes you gently, cradle shakes you, sleep quickly …" This familiar melody often echoes gently in the deepest part of my memory. Mom said that when I was a child, I would grab her long hair and fall asleep sweetly in this slow rhythm. Mom, dear mom, you know, you are my cradle, and you are the most beautiful and moving song in my heart.
This song was written with perseverance and strength.
Western stories say that after every child is born, an angel will come to his side to take care of her, protect her and care for her. Then you must be the strongest of all angels. My congenital disability is undoubtedly a heavy blow to you. It's hard to imagine how heartbroken, helpless and painful it is for you to see my disabled right leg after a painful delivery! Grandma said that night, you hid in your room and cried alone ... and then you stopped crying. You just hold the baby more lovingly and sing a lullaby to put her to sleep. Your weak shoulders silently bear the burden of life and the pressure of raising me.
This song was written with love and selflessness.
When I grow up, I can only sit at home when I see other children chasing games, jumping rubber bands and kicking shuttlecock in the yard. Especially when people talk about me behind my back, I can't do anything and nothing can change. My heart is full of anger. I break things and ignore people without eating. You didn't say anything and made me cry. When I am tired, you just hug me, comfort me and tell me stories. In my mother's rambling words, I heard a touching legend. "I am God's favorite apple, so he took a bite ..." Then my mother quietly cleaned up my broken chopsticks and torn books. The pain suffered by the child will be magnified countless times by the mother. Shi Tiesheng finally got out of the quagmire of life, really inspired by the sunshine, weeds and green trees in ditan park? I think it's better to watch the great mother quietly behind the wheelchair. How can I treat my mother like this? I should thank my mother, who has been waiting for me, loving me and teaching me patience and strength.
Now, I am in the classroom of senior three, and the countdown number of the college entrance examination on the wall is getting less and less every day, and the thick bold characters are almost suffocating. I don't want to recite Mencius' famous saying that "the sky is big." My ordinary and ordinary mother gave me the courage to face life directly. Some people say that the college entrance examination is a hammer sale, but I strongly disagree. It's just an excuse for those who lack will
I endure the unbearable pain of ordinary people and resolutely challenge my mother who has a hard life. You are the song in my heart! Humming is an exciting song.
You are the song in my heart.
Zhang Huiyuan
A good song, its melody is like a beam of light that is clearly extinguished, strong and weak, scattered in space. Those phrases are like golden birds, flapping their wings, flying into the corner full of shadows, flying into our hearts, singing with the emotion flowing in our chests, stirring up strange movements.
My father is a song, a song that soothes my heart and paints my life with bright colors.
Dad can sing, and many classic and nostalgic melodies flow out of his mouth, as if coated with gold powder, radiant and light and melodious. Many years passed before I realized that he was singing the Cantonese song "Only Hard Work Can Win". Of course, I couldn't understand the strange pronunciation at that time. I only remember that it was when my father was in financial difficulties and the whole family was struggling. My father has been busy all day, and occasionally he doesn't forget to hum a few songs when he comes home. To this end, I also ended up with my mother's nagging that "there is still leisure to sing at this time."
Later, I was probably in the fourth grade of primary school. It was a hot night and the whole family had dinner in a depressing atmosphere. Dad said to us seriously, "I'm going to Henan, and I won't be back for a while." Your mother has to work harder at home, so you should be obedient. " I can't see my father's face clearly in the silhouette of the light. Mother hugged my brother and me, sobbing, and threw off her sad shoulders. That night, the whole family fell asleep, and I vaguely saw my father's thin figure leaning against the window. The red light of cigarette butts is so dazzling that he almost never smokes. That summer night, I seemed to hear him hum the familiar and unfamiliar melody: "Three points are destiny takes a hand, seven points depend on hard work ..." Somehow, I was young and ignorant and secretly wiped my tears on my pillow. I secretly blessed my father with tears, hoping that this song would accompany him and give him strength when he was suffering outside.
Dad didn't break his word. Two years later, he came back. He re-established his declining career and ended his family's predicament for several years with his hands. Times have changed, and we occasionally hear the tune of my father's song-"Three points are destiny takes a hand, and seven points depend on hard work." ...
Now, I have experienced the thunderstorm and humidity in the flower season. When I was ready to fight hard and build my own kingdom, I finally understood the meaning of that song to my father and the meaning of my father as an eternal song.
He resolutely survived in such a difficult life. His forbearance, his strength, his fighting spirit, his love for his family and his hope for the future have become my spiritual standards in the face of life and difficulties, and have become a March that inspires me to work hard. When I feel tired in the maze of function, probability and solid geometry, the lonely figure in the afterglow of cigarette butts on that summer night, like a low and high-spirited song, dispelled my fatigue. "Destiny" or "hard work"? Wait for my answer.
Dad, you are a song in my heart. Although this song will eventually dissipate, its touch on me will never die. For example, eternity may not exist, but if there is a world in a grain of sand, who can deny that there is immutable eternity in an instant? Dad, you are such a song with a long aftertaste, washing my heart like a clear spring.
You are the song in my heart.
Grace Wai Wong, Grade Three (12)
What left a trace of robbery on the bronze tripod, which is still clearly discernible? After thousands of years of washing and training, what is left in the caves of Mingsha Mountain? What flows into the fast-flowing river and into the 5,000-year civilization? What brings together the lasting appeal of Tang and Song poetry, which has been humming for a long time and penetrated into the blood? It's you, from China. You are a song in my heart.
China people, you used to be a rich and moving song in my heart, blooming the flowers of China people's spirit. You painted a great soul, which made me think. Qu Zi from Miluo, Tao Qian from Dongli who picked chrysanthemums, Wang Xizhi from Lanting and Su Shi from Huangzhou all wrote touching poems with you. "I am also kind. Although I died nine times, I still have no regrets. " Bend a persistent song. "The mountains are getting better every day, and the birds are back." Tao Qian sang a song of seclusion; "Maolin Xiuzhu" and "Running Water" Wang Xizhi sang a fresh song; Su Shi sang an open-minded song, "A drop in the ocean, flying in heaven and earth". When I waver in the face of difficulties, I will see the thin figure by the Miluo River. "The road is long, and I will go up and down." When I regret the mistakes of the past, I recall Tao Yuanming's "Never forget the past, the teacher of the future, never forget the past"; Whenever I am frustrated, my thoughts wander to Chibi with Dongpo. "If I look at it from its unchanging point of view, things and me will be endless" ... just a few words, but fascinating. This is how you are engraved in my heart, giving me a calm and indifferent atmosphere.
China people, you used to be a heroic and magnificent song in my heart, mysterious and heavy, bearing the blood of history and culture, wiping away the vicissitudes of life and endless life, let me pursue it. "The wind is rustling in Shui Han, and the strong man is gone forever." You made the hero of Jing Ke sing a song. "Han soldiers have been slightly, besieged on all sides, and the king's gas is exhausted. How can I make a living?" You witnessed the farewell between my concubine and a strong man.
The beauty of the wrist is touching; "To study the relationship between heaven and man, we can learn from the changes of ancient and modern times." Tai Shigong used you to write "A historian's farewell song, leaving Sao without rhyme" ... These moving pictures in the pages are constantly playing in my mind, while you record the songs and sorrows of the world with faded ink. Looking at your increasingly thin personality, I feel awe of you.
But now, I have been looking for it for a long time. What I see in front of me is just a lot of foreign characters in the streets, and what I hear is that some people are proud of their lightness and are proud of learning a foreign language better than their mother tongue. I'm rethinking, is it that the culture is too heavy and gradually drowns your previous style? Is history too vague to hide your past? Do you think people gradually abandon you because of impetuousness? I don't think so Someone on TV uses you to moan and repeat cliches; Those incredible words on the internet are all abusing your identity, which is puzzling. Do you want to cut off your beautiful songs and rich songs today?
You are a deeply attached song, and you are fascinated by the lasting charm of your fragrance. From clan society to 2 1 century, from northwest desert to misty rain in Jiangnan; From Jinge Tiema to peace and prosperity, from 56 tough nationalities to every corner of the world. You are eclectic with your broad mind. So we need to clear your name and let you go further. Don't worry, some people may drown, but more people will get up.
There is nothing to say about going to the West Building alone. I am thinking of you silently. My clothes are getting wider and wider, but I won't regret it. I will languish for Iraq. I am pursuing you. I am looking for you. I hope I can find you, not just in the dim light, but everywhere I go. Just because you are a song in my heart.