Through my clothes, your needle;
Ruthless time takes away your sunshine,
You stare at your age calmly;
Doing more for me is what you ask of yourself,
I am too young to understand.
Through my hair, through your hands,
Through my clothes, your needle;
I don't know when you got a little old,
But you repeat it disapprovingly;
Sometimes I feel a little redundant,
You think it is better to do more.
Make a fire, cook in the sun,
Hang clothes in the moonlight.
For your smiling face,
I think I am very happy;
I thank you for your hard work this day.
I'm glad to have a grandmother like you.
Expert comments:
In the language of poetry, the author portrays a grandmother who loves her children deeply and is willing to give everything or even more for them. She paid without regrets, and "I" gradually understood her bitterness and efforts. The fusion of emotions sang an ode to family. Through My Hair, Your Hands, My Clothes, Your Needle is affectionate, sentimental and full of musical beauty.
Grandma came to my home from a distant country. She wore a bun at the back of her head, a gray-blue cloth and washed white black cloth shoes. Of course, this grandmother is not my own grandmother. It was after my grandfather died that my grandmother invited her to help me with my work. Because this grandmother is amiable and her father was brought up by her, so my father also called her "mother". Maybe it's because she is not my father's biological mother, and she is not related to me. I despise and don't want to pay attention to her. Mom and dad respect her very much and want her to rest in our house.
As time goes by, the season has entered late autumn. It was cold and rainy that day. The weather is cloudy and there is a biting chill in the air. I sat in the classroom shivering with cold. At this time, a classmate came to tell me that an old woman brought me an umbrella. My heart suddenly sank and I ran out of the classroom quietly.
I once told her gently, don't come to school if you have nothing to do. I'm afraid her clothes will attract unreasonable laughter and contempt from these city children. I shudder at the thought of that embarrassing scene. Grandma, who was uncomfortable all over, stood in front of a wall. Her figure is like a withered young tree swaying in the wind, and the dry cough is introduced into my ears from time to time from the narrow corridor. I crustily skin of head to meet up.
Grandma saw my eyes lit up and immediately smiled on her face, which was full of anxiety. "Son, it's cold. I was afraid that you would catch cold, so I brought you an umbrella and clothes. " Then he gave me the umbrella and the clothes hidden in his arms. "Well, it's almost time for class. I should go back to the classroom. You have to go back early! " I said.
"Well ..." Grandma's voice is a little astringent. A gust of wind blew, and she wrapped her coat and her weak body trembled in the wind.
"Children, put on your clothes first, and don't catch a cold, and ...".
"Stop nagging, I get it!" I lightly chastised.
At that time, she was shocked, but she never expected that she was full of enthusiasm but ushered in a cold face. While speaking, I suddenly found that her forehead hair was messy and dripping with water, and the clothes behind her were wet by the rain and clung to her back. It suddenly dawned on me that she was actually colder than me. ...
A trace of disappointment and sadness on the sallow face deeply shocked me and made me feel at a loss ... I realized that she was so old and worked hard for most of her life, and now she doesn't even understand and accept her granddaughter. What a painful thing it is!
I once heard my father say that my grandmother asked her to take care of everything because my grandfather died young. She also lost her father in her early years, having no children or daughters, and worked hard for our family all her life. Raising chickens, ducks, farming, and taking care of children, she is methodical in everything, making our family gradually rich from the original poverty. Like a silkworm, she keeps spinning silk for our family; More like a lamp, silently radiating all the light until it is too old to pick it up.
Now, she continues to love me, and my pale vanity makes me unable to see her love for me. I stroked the clothes that were still warm in my arms, and I felt a sense of guilt. My nose is sore and my eyes are blurred. ...
In the misty eyes, grandma has quietly walked into the rain. Autumn wind rustling, shaking her hair, coughing, echoing in endless rain ... Autumn rain is like spun silk, light and silent, so moist and gentle. Deep guilt once again made my tears gush out and drop down.
Expert comments:
This essay describes an old man's selfless dedication to a family of three generations, with physical strength and more love. Through language description and action description, my grandmother's selfless care for me was highlighted. . At first, I was very disdainful of my grandmother. I expressed my regret by telling the story that my grandmother gave me an umbrella. The lyrics at the end deepen the theme of the full text.
That chimney, those feet don't know how long it's been since I've seen such a scene. Between the green mountains and green waters, the wisp of curling kitchen smoke floated in the air, and then it was blown away by the wind, leaving a faint haze and slowly opening my memory. ...
In the summer countryside, when the smoke from the kitchen rose above the eaves, he picked up his hoe and gradually disappeared into the morning light. In his memory, he was always barefoot. Every time I ask him why, he always touches my head and says with a smile, "Barefoot, practical." I always laughed at his pedantry at that time. Why not wear shoes? The sun rises higher and higher, looking down at everything on the earth with the eyes of the ruler. Grandma took me in one hand and a rice basket in the other, and walked to the familiar land. His back was hunched, and his white jacket was soaked with sweat, slightly reflecting his thin back. A drop of turbid sweat slipped from my forehead to the loess, and I seemed to see it. A flower has blossomed on the loess, although it is very small, but it shines brilliantly under the sunlight. The surrounding scenery is gradually hazy, and in a trance, we see a simple and honest smile on that familiar face. Small smoke rings spit out from that long chimney, affecting our hunger. In the twilight, looking at the approaching back, solid footsteps sounded in my ears, harmoniously accompanied by the rising wind.
The school bell permeates my life, and my schoolbag is carried on my tender shoulder. He always follows me silently. Looking at his back floating away at the school gate, his bare feet were even more harsh in the crowd. It's getting colder and colder, and the wind moans through the window frame. I can't help holding on to my clothes, but I still tremble. At this time, a familiar face appeared outside the window, with a dark yellow face and wrinkles randomly distributed between the foreheads, which made the face look even more gaunt. I walked out of the classroom and took the clothes in his hand. I caught a glimpse of his feet without shoes. At this time, the laughter of my classmates came from behind, scraping my heart like a knife. I picked up my clothes and yelled at him, "Why don't you wear shoes? You don't have to come if you don't wear it. " His face became gloomy and he turned away. In the cold wind, his figure is so thin that it seems that he will be blown away by the wind carelessly. I feel colder. I wonder if it's cold. ...
As usual, the bell fluttered over the school. I trudged out of the school gate, but I saw him. Those red and swollen feet are gone, replaced by a pair of brand-new cloth shoes. The familiar smiling face stung my heart deeply. He didn't say anything, but took my schoolbag and still followed me silently. In the shadow of the setting sun, tall and short figures set foot on their way home, and smoke hung over the village. Since then, my feet have disappeared, but my heart is much empty.
When he left, grandma told me that he didn't wear shoes because his feet would blister whenever he wore them. Seeing his scarred feet, I cried for the first time, and I couldn't help it anymore.
Expert comments:
This article has beautiful language and delicate description, which shows the author's strong language control ability and literary accomplishment. In the author's pen, the scenery is poetic, the feelings flow slowly, and the characters are vivid, which makes people feel strongly moved.
Only the child's memory and your bun can't stay in the season.
I missed the spring when everything was in full bloom; I miss the summer when cicadas sing in the shade of trees; I missed the autumn full of harvest reflected by the setting sun; I missed the snow-white enchanting winter; I can borrow the four seasons, and I can miss the time, because I can safely say that I still have youth. But I miss you, but I'll never get it back.
Time-the most poisonous poison
"Whoa, whoa ..." A big cry came. It turned out to be the child's crying, playing with his temper willfully. "I don't want you, you go away, I don't want you, you go away ... The little girl who just learned to speak kept repeating these words, and the old man who was at a loss sighed, or gently picked up the little girl and kept coaxing him to pat his shoulder. Grab the hair ...
Day by day, the little girl grew up. Don't cry. Under the dim sky, there are high and low shadows printed on the ground, holding hands with big hands, stepping on creaking leaves and listening to beautiful folk songs. Jumping, laughing, moving on, deeper in the sunset.
And now, lonely. Where the lonely shadow stands. I seem to be looking for something here.
Time-the most ruthless anesthetic
"Bamboo fence! Bamboo fence! A flower under the fence ... "Shake the chair. Enjoying all the beauty, snuggling in your arms, coquetry. Curled up in your arms, dreaming a beautiful dream.
Do you remember? She is willing to do anything because she is her pet. She likes to eat potato stew cooked by her grandmother and drink rice soup with rich rice flavor, so she starts to be busy very early every day. "Ahem, ahem ..." I kept coughing. Is it smoked? I think maybe? The little girl held on a stool, feeding the rice with special fragrance. It's really the life of the little princess.
However, on that rainy and particularly cold night. She just fell asleep, serene and unchanging. I never woke up.
Time-I hate myself
I hate myself for not being able to repay your kindness.
I hate myself for provoking you in your later years.
Cling to, snuggle up to you. I was immersed in it and couldn't extricate myself. Yes, I live in your life. I am infected by your breath, edified by your bun, surrounded by your family and cared for by you. In this way, I suddenly realized the time. Let me ignore you.
Please allow me to commemorate you in this way.
Please allow me to cry in the dark.
One day, I will meet you, and this time I will let you enjoy yourself and torture me.
"Milk ... milk ..." You never left.
Expert comments:
In this article, I fully recalled my grandmother in the form of a subtitle, expressing my love and nostalgia for her. The titles "Time-the most poisonous poison", "Time-the most vicious anesthesia" and "Time-I hate myself" are both clues and true feelings.
My grandmother didn't know when she began to hate her. I scolded her in my heart: the rice she cooked was not delicious at all, either too much salt or too little oil; The most important thing is that she can't ride a bike.
Every time I go to school and leave school, it is my most painful time. First, 20 minutes away from home makes my feet ache slightly; Secondly, I have to put up with her endless nagging: "Oh, are you wearing less clothes again?" How many times have I told * * *, but no sweaters! ""Are you hungry? Do you want to eat bread or something? "... at this time I will interrupt her impatiently:" I'm not cold, and I'm not hungry. "Then I went away with my classmates and left her hanging.
Once, I really couldn't stand it. Just tell her, "Hey, why can't you ride a bike? Do you know how hard it is for me to walk around every day? " I completely forgot that she would get up at dawn, regardless of the snow, and come to my home one or two miles away from her hometown to wake me up from the hot bed. When' tis once spoken, I regret that I should say such a thing! But the silk in my heart involuntarily gained the upper hand. She said shyly, "Well, I'd love to, but I'm always all thumbs." "
I thought it was over, but one Sunday, I saw her. I saw her struggling to ride a bike in the sun. The car was twisting and turning, and she was sweating with nervousness. I was shocked, but I didn't expect her casual words to be true! I've seen her wake me up every morning these days for fear that I'll be late, but she can sleep a little longer! I also saw her asking me if I was cold or hungry every morning and evening. And I always look at each other coldly! I saw it. I saw a lot. I wanted to say "I'm sorry" to her, but I refused to move a step.
Today is Monday. On the way to school, I said shyly, "Well, Grandma, walking to school is not a bad thing. You can also exercise. " She smiled, but immediately asked, "It was quite cold this morning. Why aren't you wearing a sweater? " "Grandma, I'm not cold, really, don't believe you touch ..."
I think even the most annoying nagging is full of love, just like she silently carries my schoolbag for me every day, full of deep love.
Expert comments:
This is an article about my grandmother. After reading your article, the teacher was particularly moved, moved by your understanding and moved by the selfless dedication of mom and grandma. The article reveals grandma's love for me between the lines. The full-text language is fluent, natural and vivid, which is a good exercise.
My grandma, do you know who cooks, washes, cleans and manages money in my family? I'm telling you, it's my grandmother
My grandmother is over 60 years old, but she is still strong and always smiles. Grandma is short and fat, with a round face and bright eyes. She smiles like a pair of crescent moons. Although grandma is gentle and considerate, she does things very neatly. Grandma is the person I admire most! Grandma cooks delicious food. What fish-flavored eggplant, mapo tofu, shredded green pepper ... can do anything to make us fat one by one. As the saying goes, a clever woman can't cook without rice. Grandma is an expert in buying vegetables: what food is good, which side is fresh, and where is cheap. She knows everything, so the dishes she cooked are particularly delicious.
Grandma also keeps the house in good order. Although grandma has no education, she never does things carelessly, never panics when things happen, and she still believes in science and is not superstitious at all. I remember I had a fever. Not only did she not delay her illness and treat it indiscriminately, but she also sent me to the hospital quickly and arranged my diet reasonably, which made me recover quickly.
What I admire most about grandma is her spirit of "forgetting me". In the morning, when everyone is still sleeping, grandma has got up. She turned on the flashlight and groped her way to the kitchen to make breakfast for us. After we all go to school, grandma will eat some by herself and then do housework. At noon, grandma is busy taking her grandson home to cook. After seeing off her grandson, grandma began to do housework again. In the afternoon, when we all went home, we could see grandma's busy back in the kitchen … until the evening, grandma was still busy. The moon reflected on her face, and I saw the deep wrinkles on grandma's forehead.
It is such an ordinary rural woman who sacrificed everything for her children and grandchildren. She never asks for anything in return. Even though we wanted to help her, she smiled and shook her head and told us to do our homework quickly. Day after day, month after month, year after year, time flies in a hurry, the month is getting lower, and she is always old.
Grandma, thank you for your meticulous care for me, just like the kindness of spring sunshine to grass. I can never repay this love that is higher than the mountain and deeper than the sea. Thank you, it is you who have melted the ice and snow around me and made our life still like spring. Thank you for the time you spent with me ...
Expert comments:
This is an article about people. The little author not only described grandma's appearance, but also highlighted her industrious and capable characteristics through specific examples. Although the language of the article is not so beautiful, it is true and simple, and it is well written.
Eternal moment dear grandma:
In the white room, nothing else was mixed. She lay quietly, covered with plastic pipes. The liquid in the infusion pipe dripped slowly and caught my heart-I was afraid that the green curve would become an eternal straight line in the next moment. I stood behind the glass of the observation room and gently called to her-she couldn't hear ... I heard that she might never hear, see, speak or smile at me ... Turn my back and slide down against the wall, and my consciousness gradually blurred. ...
In my memory, that dark old house is where I grew up. I am lonely without my father's high shoulders and my mother's warm arms-but I have her, my closest relative, my grandmother. The younger one likes to walk around her and let her tell me stories. She doesn't read much, and there are really no stories, but she doesn't think I'm boring. She often holds me in her lap and says, "Once upon a time, in the mountains …" "What happened later? What happened later? " I am adamant, she doesn't talk, she smiles. That eyebrow, that eye and that mouth are all crescent moons.
Later, she moved away, and I was most worried before she left. I was nine years old at that time, and I was tired of her advice. I'm even a little glad that she left, so I can have my own room. Now that I think about it, I really can't understand it. Maybe you only know how to cherish it when you lose it! Since then, she has often come to see me. In order to save money, she went out at six and walked to my house at eight, just to give me pocket money. She just wanted to see me, with sweat on her face and that kind, heartfelt happy smile, but I didn't see it and didn't care, because "nothing special."
And the last time I looked at her carefully, I got a phone call from her dying. I can't hear what the other side of the microphone is saying, but I feel the feeling of "bang" in my head. High fever, pneumonia, brain atrophy, unconsciousness ... The only thing I remember is coming to see me.
That cold morning, I saw her, completely without the bright and clear of the past. Her eyes were glassy and her mouth was full of nonsense. I mumbled "Grandma." She looked up at me and held my hand-her hand was red, swollen and festering, and her nails were deeply embedded in the meat, as if afraid that I would disappear. Trembling, she held a heart in her other hand: "Eat, eat." She handed it to me very slowly. I can't believe she still cares if I eat breakfast. I held back my sour nose and took it. "Okay, I'll eat. I'll eat. " Miraculously, she smiled, a satisfied smile.
When the tears of disappointment finally flowed out of my eyes, I seemed to see the smile on her mouth in a hazy way, so quiet and perfect. That moment has been deeply rooted in my heart and has become my eternity.
hope
Grandma is in good health!
Small bright
2012 April 17
Expert comments:
This letter is sincere and touching. With the theme of "eternal moment", the author recalled the experience of living with her grandmother in childhood and expressed her deep thoughts for her. The whole language is natural, friendly and fluent.
The old rag-picker came again, hunched back and silver hair fluttering in the wind.
The old lady is 8 1 year old this year. But she still shuttled through the garbage cans inside and outside the city and countryside, month after month. His hand, which was condensed like broken glass, turned over the worn-out newspapers, books and papers that people discarded with messy drink bottles. He folded them neatly, tied them tightly with hemp rope and put them on the rusty tricycle. ...
I learned from the neighbor's chat that the old woman's husband died before she was 30 years old, and she left no children, so she had to travel around at that age.
Grandma usually scrimps and saves, reluctant to buy spacious and comfortable clothes, and wears a coat that has been mended several times every day. He only eats pickles and dried vegetables and doesn't want to eat meat.
Grandma was so frugal, but after hearing about the Wenchuan earthquake, she took out 300 yuan from her passbook and donated it. Maybe this 300 yuan may be nothing to us, but for an old man who collects junk, it will take her months. Grandma not only donated money to people who met the earthquake, but also lent a helping hand whenever she saw any beggars on the road.
Grandma is not only caring, but also caring for others. It was a rainy night. I had to walk in the rain because I didn't bring my raincoat, but to make matters worse, my parents haven't come home yet. I had to wait at the door. My clothes were wet and annoying. When the wind blew, I shivered with cold. As it happens, grandma came back from collecting junk. When she saw me like this, she quickly asked me to go to his house with her to take shelter from the rain. I was so cold that I had to go home with her. Her house is very small, and most of the places are full of rags, so I have to shrink in the corner. Grandma packed the dishcloth, quickly poured me hot water and let me wipe my face to keep warm. ...
I looked up and it was getting dark. My grandmother is still shuttling in front of and behind the village. It was dark, and she hurriedly packed up her junk and rode away on the shabby tricycle, which was floating in the air with silver hair and wind.
Expert comments:
This is a narrative, starting with a concrete picture, which arouses readers' interest in reading. The transition is natural, connecting the past with the future, full of twists and turns. The use of narrative explains grandma's poor life and paves the way for showing the theme of the article.