Eight-year-old children's prose recitation A grandparent said:
You are our baby,
Mom and dad said:
You can buy whatever you want.
The teacher said:
Don't spoil your children,
Let them go by themselves,
A happy life. Stand Up!
The children also want to say:
Kindergarten is a colorful world,
With your love,
I will grow up in the sun and run towards the future!
Eight-year-old children's prose recitation "Two Bamboo Leaves Blowing Dreams"
□ Author: Geng
You are often awakened by a bamboo, and the wind sweeps your dreams away from the bamboo branches like a drop of dew. Is this the dream of bamboo leaves or your dream?
The joy of migrant workers sleeping on the street is impacting this bamboo forest. There is no noise of the city here, and there is no deep dream that the car ran over at midnight. Whispering between the wind and bamboo leaves, such as the rustling of drizzle, draws the echo of hometown: the bamboo forest drips water, and a little boy raises his thin face, bearing the cool water drops to quench his thirst.
You told me that the hawthorn trees in my hometown were all cut down, and the worthless hawthorn fruits and sour red lanterns were all cut down. ? Me too. What about hawthorn fruit? ? You said, with a sour smile on your face.
Nobody cares. Small migrant workers squatted at the corner of the road, empty-handed. Look at the car like running water, and watch the crowd pass by from morning till night. Who cast an inquiring glance?
Between 1000 bamboo leaves, the smoke is misty.
Tears rolled on a thousand bamboo leaves.
One falls and stops at the edge of your trembling mouth. Is this the tears of bamboo leaves or yours?
Wipe dry, stand up and pat the dust on your body. Do you want more? What about work? Let's go
? Life without work is more tiring than work. ? You said, with a sour smile on your face.
Eight-year-old children's prose recitation of Three Rickshaws
□ Author: Shen
The sun is weak, the white clouds are long, the wind blows thin ice, and the river does not flow.
Go out and rent a rickshaw. There are many pedestrians in the street; There are so many cars and horses that I don't know what to do.
The people on the rickshaw were all wearing cotton-padded clothes and looking at each other with open hands. They felt that the wind was blowing, but it was cold.
The coachman's clothes are torn, but his sweat is falling.
Eight-year-old children's prose recitation is lyrical on all sides
□ Author: Yang Dexiang
As long as there is shore, people will cheer on the bamboo raft on the peach blossom water.
As long as there is a shore, a new ferry and a waterway, it is necessary to refuel.
As long as there is shore, the feat of frolicking children will be handed down.
Do you want to build bridges, dams and gates? Look, the shore is high and the shoulders are high.
Eight-year-old children's prose recitation of Five Honesties
□ Author: Michelle
I am poor and have nothing.
My only wealth is my sincerity. The only thing I am satisfied with is my sincerity. My only pride is my sincerity. Because of it, my head never lowers; Because of it, my eyes never dodge.
My sincerity makes my life without sadness, pain and regret.
May my sincere life shine forever.
Eight-year-old children's prose recitation
□ Author: Lu Xun
Is the flowing fire molten coral?
There are some green and white in the middle, like coral's heart, red all over, like coral's meat, and the outer layer is a little black, so the coral is burnt.
Good is good, but it will be hot.
When it is inexplicably cold, the water freezes.
Some are green in the middle, like coral heart, red all over, like coral meat, and the outer layer is a little black, but the coral is still burnt.
It's fine, but it's a pity to burn my hands.
Fire, the ice of fire, people can't help him, does he suffer?
Alas, ice of fire.
Alas, alas, the man of fire and ice!
Eight-year-old children's prose recitation article 7 her temples are gray,
The child calls her grandmother the director.
She is broad-minded and great,
Embrace generations of children.
Her hands are strong,
Hold up the sky of countless children.
Her thoughts are supreme,
Willing to give treatment and status, never thought about it.
She spoke softly,
Like dewdrops that moisten seedlings,
Her life is like sunshine,
The laughter that shines on every child,
Witness the growth of every child.
Her body was beaten.
The footprints of countless children growing up,
She is a kindergarten teacher.
?
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