Composition about dust 1
In our life, we can always meet some people who shine in the dust and bloom refreshing flowers.
There is an old man selling fruit downstairs in my house. Every morning, he drives a tricycle and brings the opera sound of his radio.
When I arrived at the store, I unloaded the car, set up a stall and loaded the fruit. Everything is so skilled. "I grow a lot of fruit myself," he said. "I planted fruit trees on my mountain, not crops. I usually water them and pick them when they are ripe. This mountain is a treasure. In summer, it was Guo Guo's voice ... "I was secretly curious and couldn't help yearning.
Every morning at nine o'clock, he begins to play Chinese opera, often lotus drops. "Thirty-three days in the sky, a fairy appeared beside the white clouds. Originally a mortal, but I'm afraid the mortal's heart is not strong ... "The old man will sell it to aunt Wang passing by from time to time:" Listen, Wang Jinbiao sings "Congratulations on getting rich". "
Summer has come and his fruit has been updated. Besides apples and bananas, there are more big and round watermelons. At the same time, accompanied by watermelon, there are fruits.
Old people love fruit. He kept these little creatures as pets, so that the sound of slugs often drowned out the melodious tunes of operas. Others peddle, but he doesn't say a word, and letting the fruit help him peddle is much louder than his own voice.
Opera, listened to every year; Fruit, raise every year; Fruit is sold every year. After so many years, the young trees in front of the stall have grown from seedlings to small forests, and I have entered junior high school from babbling.
The fruit of his family is not more delicious than that of other families, and the price is neither too high nor too low. But I found that when neighbors pass by his fruit stand, they can't help but stop to buy some fruit, which is a common occurrence for lesbians. Sometimes it's a new song of lotus in full bloom, sometimes it's the price of the food market, and there are some anecdotes. Or it has nothing to do with anything, just a leisurely mood, say hello to him and say a few commonplaces.
I often think that he is a poet who blooms in the dust of life and sings leisurely life poems in the simplest way. Just like the wild chrysanthemums wrapped in dust on the roadside, although no one stopped to watch, they still straightened their backs and lived optimistically, positively and confidently. I not only opened my own wheatgrass, but also passed on such vitality and good mood to others-those who are trying to live in the dust like us.
Senior two composition 2 about dust
The acquaintance with you has brought me lifelong memories.
-inscription
In the winter morning, the wind blows on the face like a sharp knife. There was no one on the street, and smoke slowly floated out of a breakfast shop on the roadside.
"Cold, cold!" I walked into the breakfast shop with a runny nose. As usual, I ordered a bowl of noodles, sat in the innermost seat, rubbed my hands and looked blankly at the street outside. But today is a little different. Outside the shop, a cleaner is standing at the door. That's you. You poked around in front of the store, and finally, you made up your mind to walk into the breakfast shop.
"Boss, how much is a bowl of powder?" A slightly hoarse voice came from the door of the shop. "Not expensive, four dollars!" "Ah, I see!" You huffed at each other, slowly took out a tattered cloth bag from your pocket and carefully opened it, which contained more than a dozen crumpled banknotes. You count them one by one, and then solemnly take out a few to the boss. Then, I went straight to the seat opposite me.
When you came to me, an unspeakable smell came to my face. I look at you with a frown and a wrinkled face. I immediately went to the door of the shop and sat in the outermost seat. And you just came in from outside, how could you not know how cold it is outside? Watching me walk outside, you sat down in embarrassment, and I couldn't help laughing at your embarrassment.
When the powder came, I wolfed it down at once. Because you are here, every second I stay is like another punishment. In less than five minutes, I put down my chopsticks and walked out like a meteor.
Although I am wearing a thick cotton-padded coat, it is still very cold outside. Suddenly, I heard footsteps behind me and I turned around in surprise. It is you! Panting, you came over and asked me if this was my wallet. I was surprised, this is the wallet I left on the seat! You really gave it to me.
At that moment, I don't know why, I thought your voice was so beautiful, and I stood there. Watching you walk away step by step, looking at the shabby cotton-padded clothes you are wearing, looking at the cash in your wallet, thinking about the Wan Ru pine bark in your hand, a ray of smile and pity suddenly appeared in my mind ... Your hand, your face and your back have been fixed in my memory ever since.
The wind is getting smaller and smaller, and I don't know when a few sparrows are crowing in the branches. The poem "Prosperity is sad, and there are flowers in the dust" is swirling in my ear.
Senior two composition 3 about dust
Why on earth are you sad? Am I posturing or hypocritical? Who can answer my question? In this lost era, my mind is always full of unsolved doubts. Let it fly, let it mess. Why does the stronger the wind, the more my heart swings?
Whenever I can't find the meaning of life, whenever I get lost in the dark, will there be stars in the night sky to guide me through the fog?
The tree, so green, so rainy, so lingering, falls gently and softly in the hair, shoulders and chest. I smiled, and the rain ran down the dimple to my chin. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the feeling of her touching my cheek. I can't tell whether the rain or tears splashed on the ground.
Enlarge your heart, stand behind you and look at yourself. Look, the boy who sits in the classroom and keeps writing; Look, the boy who is reading with his head down; Look, the boy running on the basketball court. Well, isn't that boy the one who walked in the rain yesterday? Sometimes, he will stare blankly out of the window for no reason, and his eyes without light will gradually glow green like a hungry wolf, so firm; Sometimes, he will stand alone in the wind and hold his head high, not knowing whether he is looking up at the stars or looking at himself from the perspective of the stars. But anyway, it is so small, as small as dust.
Is the fate of dust in the hands of the wind or in your own hands? I don't know. Society is the wind, the college entrance examination is the gas, and the gas becomes the wind when the society blows a breath. So dust! Dust on the ground! So small, along the wind, running fast, already flying in the sky, slow is still floating in the void. He lost himself.
He regretted that he could not fly with the wind and become a white cloud. He, little dust, wants to go home now. He longs for a heavy rain that can redeem himself and let his messy body return to the ground again. He misses the smell of earth; Miss the green grass; I miss the sense of security at home. He is fed up with this emptiness.
Finally, I waited for this day, the day I redeemed him. He, when he went back, decided to start all over again, even though his body was black and blue. But his heart has already turned into a white cloud.
Senior two composition 4 about dust
One Saturday, at a friend's party, I dressed in a bright white coat, tidied up my desk at will, and rushed to the dinner party. I was in a hurry and got a little dust on my clothes, but I didn't notice it.
We had a good chat and had a good time at the party. When we broke up, I just wanted to say "goodbye" to Xiao He, but I saw her get up slowly, glanced at me and was attracted by the hem of my dress. I looked down and saw a little dust scattered under my clothes. The original white hem is gray and messy. I smiled awkwardly and lifted my clothes, trying to brush them off. Xiao He has bent down slightly, lifted his clothes with one hand, brushed the dust with the other, patted and blew a few times, and finally wiped it gently with his hand. The dust disappeared without a trace, and the coat was still so white and pure.
She looked up, smiled at me again and said goodbye in a clear voice. I waved at once, but I didn't leave at once. Looking at Xiao He's far-away back, the original embarrassing mood suddenly increased a bit of a different mood. Why? I was moved by my action in less than ten seconds when I was dusting. What she did was so natural and casual. Inadvertently, this is her concern for neatness, which must be a habit she developed in her daily life.
With gratitude and admiration for Xiao He, I returned home. I sat on the wooden chair at the table when I opened the door, but I was scratched. It turned out to be an eraser. Look at the table again, the books are full, but not neat; Stationery is very close together, but it is extremely messy. They all left in a hurry, ignoring geography.
At this time, I thought of Xiao He again. She wiped the dust off for me. Isn't that the embodiment of neatness? As for me, it is informal at best; At worst, it is sloppy. Thinking of this, I hurried to classify and code the messy books on my desk; The long and short pens are also lined up. After writing, when I sat down to study again, I suddenly felt much more relaxed than usual. I am deeply moved, and Xiao He's tiny act of wiping the dust can also make me feel comfortable. It seems that the habit of keeping tidy is also extremely important.
In the future, I will remind myself everywhere and urge myself to put the word "neatness" in my heart, which is influenced by Xiao He. Such a small habit has slowly erased the "fidgety dust" in my heart and made my mind clear and broadened a lot.
Now, I put on this coat again, and my mind shows what I am doing, wiping away the dust, and my heart is full of comfort brought by "neatness".
Senior two composition five about dust
The adjective dust is called smallness, not meanness.
-inscription
"Zhi-"
The little door shouted at its ugly voice again, which made people frown and look up involuntarily. An old man of sixty or seventy came in. His first impression is that he is sloppy, with a black beard, dark skin and an ugly black hat. His clothes look dirty and reveal bitterness. Grandpa may have mistaken a customer here for the boss and said in a hoarse voice, "I want a bowl of noodles." Customers don't know whether it's because they are a little disgusted with grandpa or afraid that they can't hear him. He said loudly, "Grandpa, I'm not the boss. The boss is there! "
The old man limped to the boss while answering the customer. I thought to myself, this old man may have hurt his leg before, so he must be very tired to walk. ...
"What are you doing?"
Obviously, the boss is disgusted with this dirty grandfather, and his tone is very strong, as if he were reprimanding a child who made a big mistake. The boss's tone surprised me, and I couldn't help looking up at them.
"How much is a bowl of noodles? I want a bowl of noodles. " Grandpa has a hoarse voice but a gentle attitude, but that gentleness gives people an unspeakable sadness.
"I'll give you a dollar, you go!"
"I have money, and I just want to eat noodles."
"Let's go, what money can we have?"
"How much is a bowl of noodles?" Grandpa seemed very hungry, but he persisted in asking the boss. To my surprise, he was not angry with his boss, but still treated him with a sour tenderness.
"I'll give you a dollar, you go! No? " The boss was impatient and tried his best to send grandpa away, but this made me feel extremely surprised and deeply resentful.
"Oh, the somebody else won't let me eat. Forget it. I'll go. " Grandpa didn't take the dollar from the boss, and kept it for himself without even looking at it.
I just looked at the vicissitudes of this grandfather, and I felt a feeling I had never felt before, sour and bitter. ...
After returning to my mind, I asked my mother why the boss wouldn't let grandpa eat noodles. Mom said: "It should be the boss who is afraid that the old man is too dirty to affect other customers." I was surprised to ask again: "That old man is also a customer!" " Mom said calmly, "In fact, the boss may be afraid that Grandpa will get dirty and affect the mood of other customers, and then he may not make more money."
I can't help thinking: there are such selfish people now!
I told my good friend about it that day, and my good friend said, "Do you feel that old man is as humble as dust?" I quickly said, "No, no, the dust is not humble, just small."
On this huge earth, each of us is like a dust, fluttering and enjoying life.
Why doesn't dust need respect? We are all dust!
The dust is small, but not humble. ...
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