Thoughts on Reading Wandering 1 Tonight, I read the ancient poem Wandering by Meng Jiao, a famous poet in the Tang Dynasty.
This song is mainly about a mother sewing clothes for her son, who is going to travel far away with a needle and thread in his hand. Before I left, my luggage was sewn tightly, for fear that my son would not come back in a short time, and no one would mend it for him in the field. Who can say that short grass can repay the kindness of spring sunshine? Children can't repay their mothers' kindness.
This poem is fresh and smooth, with a mellow taste. My favorite sentence is "She sewed carefully and mended it thoroughly, fearing that the delay would make him come home late", which reflects the mother's love for her children. Let me feel how great a mother's love for her children is! Although mothers sometimes discipline their children, if you think about it carefully, it's all for the sake of their children's health and happy growth. As long as it's beneficial to their growth, mothers are not afraid of hard work.
Motherly love is great and noble. How can I repay my mother's ordinary love? What we can do is to study hard and strive to be a good boy with all-round development in morality, intelligence and physique.
Reading Ode to a Wanderer is a great and warm name.
"The thread in the hand of a kind-hearted mother makes clothes for her wayward son." When I read Ode to a Wanderer, I couldn't help thinking of my mother. Every time I come home from school, I can't wait because my mother greets me with a smile and cooks good food for me. Every time I read "but how much love there is in every inch of grass, I get three rays of spring", I wonder in my heart, can a mother repay her kindness to her children? Since I was born into this world, my clothes and food have been taken care of by my mother. In winter, my mother is afraid that I will freeze and tries her best to keep me warm. Every time I eat, I always ask with concern, are you full? Is it still to your taste? Do you need a bowl of rice? ...
I learned a poem "Wandering Songs" in Chinese class today, and I was deeply moved by this poem.
This poem is mainly about a loving mother sewing clothes for her son who is about to go out. When she left, she sewed and sewed, dense and impregnable. She is afraid that her son won't come back for a long time and no one will make up for him in a foreign land. Who can tell, how can a small tender grass repay the kindness of the spring sunshine?
I can't help thinking of my mother, who raised me and sent me to and from school every day, rain or shine. Mother is like a candle, burning herself forever, illuminating others and keeping me moving forward. My mother is like a bright sun, which always warms me and makes me thrive.
I grow up day by day, and my mother is aging day by day. I have learned more and more knowledge and accumulated more and more knowledge, but my mother's memory is getting worse and worse. I know my mother raised me very hard and tired.
I remember when I was a child, my mother sent me to kindergarten by bike. On the way, I accidentally put my foot into the wheel and sprained my bone. I have a terrible pain, so my mother quickly took me to the hospital. I cried loudly and the doctor bandaged my wound. My mother looked at me and cried, and felt uncomfortable. She complained in her heart, "I really shouldn't ride a bike." Since I experienced this, my mother never rides a bike again. She walks me to kindergarten every day.
Mom, without you, I wouldn't have such a happy home? Without you, I can't grow into a towering tree? Without you, I wouldn't be a pillar of the motherland?
How great is maternal love and how can I repay it? I will study hard in the future and repay my mother's parenting.
Reading Ode to a Wanderer is a great and warm name.
The thread in the hand of a kind mother makes clothes for her wayward son.
When I read Ode to a Wanderer, I couldn't help thinking of my mother. I feel very excited every time I come home from school. I can't wait to grow a pair of wings and fly home at once, because my mother greeted me with a smile and cooked me good food. Every time I read "but how much love there is in every inch of grass, I get three rays of spring", I also wonder in my heart, can a mother repay her kindness to her children? Since I was born in this world, my mother has taken care of my food, clothing, housing and transportation. In winter, I'm afraid I'm freezing, so I try my best to keep warm: every time I eat, I always ask with concern if I'm full and whether it suits my taste. ...
As great as the mother of the world. In children's hearts, the mother is always the cutest and most beautiful. Ode to a Wanderer is a short poem, but it reflects the mother's deep care for her children.
After reading this poem, I thought of my own behavior. Talking back to my mother is my biggest bad habit, and I regret it. I am always ashamed to think of these meticulous care with my mother.
Through the interpretation of Ode to a Wanderer, I have a deeper understanding of the greatness of maternal love. To understand, respect and honor your mother, you should start from yourself, which is the inspiration I got from the poem Ode to a Wanderer.
I am in Grade Two this year. Among the classic poems I recited, Meng Jiao's Ode to a Wanderer impressed me the most. A warm new dress expresses the deep love of the old mother for her son who is about to travel far away. After reading these, I thought of my mother. My mother's love for me is everywhere.
Many aunts praised me when they saw me and said, "The little girl is so clean!" In fact, I understand that my clean appearance is all because of my mother. When I come home from school, my mother will remind me to wash my hands and face. Every morning, my mother will prepare a clean suit for me. If you see the clothes hanging outside my balcony, you will find that I have the most clothes.
I remember one time, my father worked the night shift, and there was only me and my mother at home. When I slept in the middle of the night, my mother thought I was a little hot. I took a thermometer and burned it to 38.5℃. My mother is as anxious as a cat on hot bricks. She quickly brought me water to give me medicine, then wiped my forehead and body with warm water and told me stories. It was not until dawn that my temperature slowly dropped. At first light, my mother quickly cooked food for me and then took me to see a doctor. I feel very sad when I look at my mother's red eyes and tired body. I hope I can listen to my mother in the future and don't let her work so hard.
In fact, all mothers are the same. We must love our mother.
Since I went to school, I have learned many classic poems, such as Compassion for Peasants, Boating in Guazhou, Qiu Si, Long March of Seven Laws, etc. These ancient poems let me appreciate the poet's talent, and also let me know the truth of being a man. My favorite is Meng Jiao's Ode to a Wanderer.
Meng Jiao's Ode to a Wanderer reminds me of the famous sentence "A drop of water deserves a spring". Yes, flowers appreciate the rain and dew; Because the rain and dew moistened her life, the birds thanked the sky; Because the sky makes it soar, and I am grateful to my parents; Because my parents gave me life and made me. ...
Mom, your love is like rain from the sky, and I am like a happy flower, sucking the sweetness of the rain. Mom, you are always worried about me and often ask me, "Is the school food good? Can you keep up with your studies? " At this point, I know you can't wait to see me clearly, mom. I understand everything you want to say, you know? Thank you, mom, for letting me know what is not in the textbook with your love. Thank you!
Father, your love is like a tall and straight tree, and I am a weak seedling. You sheltered me from the wind and rain and made me thrive. After reading it, it feels 400 words to read the songs of Youzi. But I also know your love. You are as important as your mother. You always say to me, "When you grow up, it's time to do your own thing." An ordinary sentence can tell your true feelings. Father, my love for you is tacit, and I don't need too many words to express it.
But how much love the grass has, I got the third spring. Father, mother, isn't your love the glory of spring? And the grass bathed in the sun can't repay the kindness of the sun anyway!
Reading Ode to a Wanderer gives me some thoughts. Mom, what an outstanding and warm name.
"The thread in the hand of a kind-hearted mother makes clothes for her wayward son." When I read Ode to a Wanderer, I couldn't help thinking of my teacher. Every time I come home from school, I feel very excited at that moment, because I feel that my mother's smile and delicious food are at home. Every time I read "but how much love there is for every inch of grass, I am rewarded with three rays of spring scenery", I also wonder in my heart, is the mother's great return to her children finished? Since I was born in this world, my clothes and food have been taken care of by my mother. I'm afraid of freezing in winter, so I try to make me wear warm clothes. Every time I eat, I always care about understanding: Are you full? Does it taste good? "These. Although Ode to a Wanderer is a short poem, it reflects the mother's true concern for her children and the children's return to her great virtue.
Mother has always been the kindest and most beautiful in children's hearts!
Thoughts on reading Ode to a Wanderer 8 Today we learned a poem Ode to a Wanderer in Chinese class, and I was deeply moved by this poem.
This poem is mainly about a loving mother who sews a needle for her son who is about to go out. When she left, she sewed and sewed, dense and impregnable. She is afraid that her son won't come back for a long time and no one will make up for him in a foreign land. Who can tell, how can a small tender grass repay the kindness of the spring sunshine?
I can't help thinking of my mother. My mother raised me and sent me to and from school every day, rain or shine. Mother is like a candle, burning herself forever, illuminating others and letting me go forward; My mother is like a bright sun, which always warms me and makes me thrive.
I grow up day by day, and my mother is aging day by day. I have accumulated more and more knowledge, but my mother's memory is getting worse and worse. I know my mother raised me very hard and tired. I remember when I was a child, my mother sent me to kindergarten by bike. On the way, I accidentally put my foot into the wheel and sprained my bone. I am in great pain. My mother quickly picked me up and went to the hospital. I cried loudly and the doctor bandaged my wound. My mother looked at me and cried. She was distressed and complained, "I really shouldn't ride a bike." Since I experienced this, my mother never rides a bike again. She walks me to kindergarten every day.
Mom, without you, I wouldn't have such a happy home now; Without you, I cannot grow into a towering tree in the future; Without you, I would not be a pillar of the motherland.
How great is maternal love and how can I repay it? I will study hard in the future and repay my mother's parenting.
In fact, parents all over the world love their children equally. They are always unknown and devote all their love and care to their children, and my parents are no exception. I am proud that I am the daughter of my parents. In daily life, our parents' efforts are devoted to our growth, and every progress we make is inseparable from our parents' care and love. When you fail, someone will accompany you and cheer you up; When you are sad, you have a shoulder to lean on; When you succeed, someone will share it with you; When you make a mistake, someone will give you tolerance and correct you in time ... who will it be? Our dearest parents, of course.
Who is the person who takes care of us for days and nights when we are sick? Our parents. When you want to retreat from difficulties, who gives you courage and cheers for you? Or our parents. Our parents don't care much about the positions we hold, the money we earn, or the jobs we do when we grow up. All they care about is the health of our children, whether our clothes are warm and whether our meals are delicious ... You know, our health and safety are the greatest comfort to our parents! The greatest satisfaction!
Because we are teenagers with conscience, we should thank our parents and love them with the purest heart, even if their love for us never asks for anything in return. Dear students, please remember our parents' birthdays, just as they will never forget ours. Love our parents! Even on our parents' birthdays, a basin of warm foot washing water; Even when our parents are very tired, we are unprofessional massagers; Even the towels handed to my parents when they were sweating. ...
I suggest: big brothers and sisters who are studying abroad now, please take out limited time in winter and summer vacations and go home to spend more time with their parents; The uncles and aunts who have gone to work, whether working locally or in other places, have older parents. Don't buy filial piety with material money, go home more and spend time with your parents in person! You know, what parents need most is not your big bags of gifts, but your constant company! Your company is the greatest happiness of parents. Just like the song goes: Go home often, even if it is to help my mother brush chopsticks and wash dishes. ...
Let's love our parents with the simplest actions-a greeting, a hug, and having a meal with our parents while they are alive.
But how much love an inch of grass has is three times!
After reading Wandering Sons, I found the poem 10 catchy in kindergarten, but I didn't understand its profound meaning at that time. Now that I'm grown up, I gradually realize it. This poem mainly describes that when the author is about to travel far away, her kind mother is making new clothes for the children who are traveling far away with a thread in her hand. The mother sewed the clothes tightly, fearing that once the child left, she would not come back for a long time. Who can say that filial piety like grass can't repay the kindness of loving mothers like spring! I memorized this poem, and my parents' tall figure came to my mind: how much effort my parents have made since I was born, and now I have grown into a clever and sensible child in my parents' eyes. They work hard every day to create a better learning environment and conditions for us. When it rains, my parents send me an umbrella. When I was ill, my parents took me to the hospital. When I am lonely, my parents play games with me. When I encounter difficulties in my study, my parents will guide me ... Mom and Dad, how hard it is to come home from work every day! How I wish you would sit down quickly and let me kiss you! In this way, your hard work of the day will vanish.
I will study hard so that you don't worry too much. I will try my best to help my parents share some housework, such as cleaning windows, sweeping the floor and washing dishes ... to relax your mood and relieve your work pressure. You will be happy with what I have done and you will praise us for growing up. When we were young, our parents helped us. We should be filial to our parents when we grow up. "grateful heart, thank you ... even if the flowers bloom and fall, I will cherish them." Yes! Everyone should have a grateful heart, cherish everyone around us who cares about us and be grateful to our parents! Thanksgiving motherland!
On Saturday afternoon, I read a poem called Ode to a Wanderer. After reading it, I had a lot of ideas.
This poem is mainly about Meng Jiao's long journey. His mother is holding a needle and thread in her hand, mending clothes for her son who is about to go out on a long trip. She sewed and sewed, and the stitches were dense. His son has been away for too long to come back. No one sewed clothes for him in a foreign land. Who can tell the grass how it can repay the kindness of the spring sunshine?
This reminds me of my mother. I remember when I was 5 years old, my mother took my brother and me to my grandmother's house. My second aunt took my cousin Didi. The three of us are five, four and three years old. One is one year older than the other, and no one will let anyone play or take care of anyone. Just when we were having fun, I don't know who pushed me or whether I ran too fast and lost my footing. Anyway, I just fell and hit my head on the corner. I cried and cried for my mother. My mother rushed over and only listened to her. What's wrong? My head is broken. Without saying anything, my mother covered her bleeding head with one hand, picked me up with the other and ran to the village clinic. My blood dripped all the way, and my mother was frightened. Now that I think about it, I really don't know why my mother was so energetic. She hugged me and wanted to fly. This is mom's love supporting mom.
Now, I finally know that maternal love is great and selfless. I must honor my mother when I grow up.
After reading Ode to a Wanderer, I feel that 12 Tang poetry, a bright pearl in the treasure house of world literature, is still charming after thousands of years. The freshness of "moonlight in the pine forest", the softness of "Xiao He only shows sharp corners" and the tranquility of "when is the bright moon on the sea" ...
When I was still learning Chinese, I learned to sing "Thread in the hands of a kind mother, making clothes for her wayward son's body …" in my grandmother's arms. What supreme love, what unique maternal love, in the heart of the great poet Meng Jiao, his mother loves him more than anything else. He was about to travel abroad, and just before he left, his kind mother sewed her love for her son on his clothes. I'm afraid my child can't come back after a long trip. What a sad maternal love! It's really "worrying about children going to Wan Li Road"!
What about now? When I was sitting in the classroom listening to the teacher and eating delicious food at the dinner table, I never seemed to think about how hard my mother had to work to grow from a crying baby to herself today. When I was very young, I didn't know what maternal love was. In this beautiful world, what is the maternal love that everyone praises? Until that time, when I was sick, my mother gave my brother to my grandmother and stayed at my bedside all night. At that moment, I finally understood the true meaning of maternal love: when I made mistakes, my mother taught me; Mother's encouragement when academic performance drops; When encountering setbacks, my mother's comfort ... one after another, one after another, and the past comes to mind together.
The children grew up day by day, but their mother's good looks passed away day by day. Telling, entrusting and sewing are all mother's youth and mother's heart and blood? Alas, "but how much love there is in every inch of grass, I got three rays of spring"!
Love is fresh air that permeates every corner of the world; Love is the sun that shines on the earth, leaving darkness nowhere to hide; Love is the flame of passion, melting the hard ice left in children's hearts. ...
But how much love has an inch of grass, and I got three spring rays!
When reading Ode to a Wanderer, it was very strange that a handsome young male teacher taught our whole school students to dance. The lyrics of the dance music were a poem called Ode to a Wanderer. After dancing several times, the teacher explained the lyrics to us in order to make us dance better. At the mention of missing my mother, many students in our class burst into tears, and I was the only one who "only rained and didn't thunder"-tears poured down my face and said nothing. I know what my classmates and I are thinking at the moment. In order to stop my tears, the teacher sent me a hundred poems of Tang poetry by primary school students, including pinyin and beautiful pictures. And told me that there is this poem in the book, and I want to take it out when I miss my mother.
In my hazy memory, my childhood mother gave me the impression that she was so kind and hardworking. I like being around my busy mother best. I remember once, I followed my mother to collect cucumbers in the field. Mother is so busy that she keeps putting cucumbers into the laundry basket. Just over six years old, I can only pick cucumbers that are not high, and I have to help my mother put them in another basket. In this way, I finally moved the cucumbers from the field. After boiling water, the half-cooked cucumber is covered with golden yellow on the roof. Mother brought a kitchen knife and chopping board, and the cucumber was evenly divided into four pieces under her skillful knife skills. After the cucumber is cut into four pieces, spread it in the sun with its belly open. I handed the cucumber to my mother, and my mother smiled at me every time I handed a cucumber. Suddenly I feel that my mother's smile is brighter than the gold in the sun.
One lazy afternoon, the sound of the curtains blowing by the breeze hitting the windowsill woke me up in my mother's arms. I found an egg yolk T-shirt beside it. Grandma limped in and said, "Koharu, your mother picked your dried cucumber skin and sold it at the market. The goods are good. A boss gave you a good price, and your mother bought you a new dress. Here, the color is like cucumber skin. Your mother also said that she went to work in Guangdong and told you to behave yourself. You can't cry when you go to preschool! "
I plunged into that egg-yellow T-shirt, and the more I cried, the more I couldn't stop, and my heart ached. I really don't want to grow up. When I grow up, my mother will stay away from me and work far away to make a living. My mind clearly reflects my mother's sweet smile in the sun!
When I was in the first volume of Grade Three, I met this poem in the learning content of China Garden, which happened to be taught by that handsome male teacher. He told us: I am familiar with hundreds of "One" Tang poems, and I can sing even if I can't write poems. Some mothers describe it as "she sews very carefully, and she makes up for it thoroughly, fearing that the delay will make him go home late", some selfless teachers "sneak into the night with the wind, moisten things silently", and some patriotic soldiers "let the Dragon City fly, but don't teach people to spend the cloudy mountains" ... Among them, the poem Ode to a Wanderer makes me love reading this book. Every time I read this poem, every word makes me tremble, choke, spasm and suffocate. So, I found this "One Hundred Tang Poems" and that yolk T-shirt, put them in a bag and put them under my pillow. When I miss my mother, I take out my clothes and read a book.
Some people say that people are always struggling to find their own spiritual paradise on the long road of life. Every new discovery will bring infinite gratitude and surprise.
A poem struck a chord in my heart that I didn't want to touch, but it just aroused the kinship thoughts linked by blood-mom, where are you now? I hope I can grow up quickly, take on the responsibilities of the family, and let my mother stop working so hard and always accompany me with a smile. From then on, I missed my mother's smile and buried my head in a collection of hundreds of Tang poems, looking for infinite gratitude and surprise, accompanying my childhood without my mother.
Reading Ode to a Wanderer 14 I read the poem Ode to a Wanderer yesterday and was moved by the poem of the mother who loves and hurts her son.
The general meaning of the poem is that a mother is threading a needle for a long-distance love child and darning her clothes carefully for fear that the clothes are not strong enough. If her son can't come back for a long time and there is no one to mend his clothes in other places, what will the child wear? Who says that children who are weak and filial as grass can repay the kindness of loving mothers like Chunhui Puze?
Motherly love shines on us like warm sunshine; Motherly love is like the earth, providing us with nutrition; Motherly love, like spring rain, moistens us all the time. ...
Mother is strict, kind and great; Motherly love is selfless, she is like a bright lamp, illuminating my way forward. How much the mother in the poem loves her children, and my mother is no exception. I remember the night when I had appendicitis surgery. I opened my eyes the next morning and saw my haggard mother waiting for me to wake up. At this time, I didn't notice the wound on my stomach at all, so I reached out and hugged my mother. My mother said with tears in her eyes, "Baby, don't move, pay attention to the wound." My mother's tears tell me that she loves and loves her children. I firmly believe that no kind of love in the world is as great as maternal love.
Who among all mothers doesn't love their children? "But how much love an inch of grass has, and I got three spring rays." I believe that under your care, I will thrive; I am more confident that I will repay your kindness with excellent academic performance.
Mom, I love you! Happy Mother's Day to all mothers in the world!
After reading The Wandering Son, I felt: "The thread in the hands of a loving mother makes clothes for her wayward son. Before leaving, I had a stitch for fear that my son would come back late and his clothes would be damaged. However, an inch of long grass is a bit sentimental, and it is rewarded with three spring rays. " I don't know how many foreign students have been moved by Meng Jiao's Ode to a Wanderer.
When we were in kindergarten, the teacher asked us to learn from her, and she read it to us sentence by sentence. None of us understood the meaning of this poem at that time. I was thinking in my heart, what stupid poem said "loving mother" just now, and then, why did it write in grass again? I didn't understand the meaning of this poem carefully, but I'm happy to recite another ancient poem.
One Sunday, an unexpected visitor came to our house-grandpa's sister, an overseas Chinese living in the United States. I didn't like the old lady with the "silver scroll" at that time, but I thought she was rich. For her, RMB may be as valuable as toilet paper. But a rich man like her always wears a coat made of homespun. She also said that her mother made it for her. I felt very strange, so I asked her, "You are so rich, why do you always wear such rustic clothes?" She smiled and asked me if I had heard Meng Jiao's Ode to a Wanderer. After thinking about it, I recited the "strange poem" that I thought was both "loving mother" and "grass". She listened, stroked my head and asked me, "Do you know what this poem means?" "Well, I ..." When I was thinking about how to answer, she seemed to read my mind and said, "This poem is the one that we overseas travelers can understand best. It shows all our mothers' love for wanderers, and also shows our love for our mothers. When you have my experience in the future, you will understand. " When was that? What exactly does this "strange poem" mean? I have a lot of questions in my mind.
I still remember what my aunt said. Now, when I grow up, I gradually understand the meaning of poetry.
Such a great mother, our children can never repay. Only by honoring your parents and studying hard is the best reward!