I never throw away a piece of paper,
Save it forever.-save it.
Fold into a boat,
Throw it into the sea from the boat.
Some were blown into the window of the ship by the wind,
Some are wet by the waves and stick to the bow.
I still don't give up and fold every day.
I always hope that a place can only flow where I want it to go.
Mom, if you see a small white boat in your dream,
Don't be surprised that it dreams for no reason.
This was folded by your beloved daughter in tears.
Wan Shui Qian Shan, please carry her love.
And sadness.
Eternal mother
When I first opened my newborn eyes.
The first thing I saw was the incomparable holiness of my mother.
Love eyes and tears of joy-
Staring at you without blinking an eye.
Your hazy and ignorant heart beats instinctively
But I can't express my feelings, just dancing around.
I am so anxious that you can't help crying loudly.
After many days and nights of cultivation
Sit up straight at last, your little body.
After adjusting EQ and IQ
Never wait, shout out life.
The most precious first sound-mom
This is the most touching original moral.
No matter how many languages there are in the world.
Only this cry is absolutely the same.
No music, no poetry.
It can be more touching than this.
Motherly love literature/poetry
Yellow light is a little thin, like a wisp of residual wind.
Spiders on the eaves, holding a white thread, are weaving the happiness of life.
It's dark outside, slowly reaching out to the lights.
When all is silent, a few deep dog barks are leisurely.
A bunch of sweet potato vines, two laundry baskets and a pair of mom's knees.
"Did you close the window lattice? It may rain heavily tonight. "
"Such a big man is still sleeping on his stomach, take it, there are quilts here, and TV says it will be cold tonight."
I was awakened by these words many times in my dream, and the wind chimes hung in front of the window.
Quietly, staring at the new moon in the sky, like a breeze kissing the wheat waves.
Mother's hand is still stroking the sweet potato leaves.
Gently, for fear of scaring away our dreams.
"Mom, I want to go back to school."
"Guangzhou is really so good? Can't you eat at home for a few more days? "
Something glinted faintly in her deep eyes.
I can read it.
No matter how many reasons I have to leave home, I am deeply swallowed up.
"Mom, don't send it, it's slippery on rainy days."
"Good, good, don't send. Be careful when you take the bus. Remember to call back when you get to school. "
Muddy path, extending quietly under your feet.
Tears blurred my eyes, and when I looked back, I also blurred the figure of my mother standing.
A drop of warm blood, dripping on the heart lake, dyed my ideal red.
"Are you used to living outside and eating well?"
I have been asked by my mother thousands of times, and the color has not faded.
Such as snow in Wan Li.
A tree, waiting by the quiet river.
In the mother's life
Children are always so young.