Childhood is like a boat, full of candy, full of toys, full of laughter, and full of happiness. Below I bring you a selection of beautiful prose of childhood, I hope it will be useful to you.

The beautiful prose selection of childhood Part 1: Dance out of childhood wonderful

Childhood is a painting, the painting has our colorful life; childhood is a song, the song has our happiness and joy; childhood is a dream, the dream has our imagination and longing. Childhood is a piece of beach, and I am in the ? The beach is a piece of sand, and I'm on the beach. looking for the most beautiful shells. Memory of the heart of the countless interesting things happened to me in the young, if you are interested, come and listen to it!

Every time when I saw the TV dancers passionate dance, the heart will surge a strange inexplicable excitement, as if they are dancing like feeling, thinking: dance, what a beautiful thing!

I finally could not restrain myself from the dance of longing, secretly ran from home to the neighborhood dance studio, quietly sat there to watch, always memorize the movements, home to practice on their own. Once, because I watched too much entry, my own body seems to be controlled, involuntarily jumped up, bumped into a number of serious dancing students, and he was still dancing with gusto! Such a scene, how embarrassing, but the teacher who taught the dance could not help but laugh, and told me to stop, pointing out my mistakes. What a kind teacher, and in that moment, I truly fell in love with dance! By chance, I was finally able to study there. I was so excited that I didn't sleep a wink. Days passed like years, and finally it was time for my first dance class, I immediately ran to the dance studio like an arrow off the string and became the ? The most active?

A lesson down, I realized that practicing dance is not easy, should learn to suffer. But I have gritted my teeth to overcome down, it is not easy ah! In the blink of an eye, time and as hourglass-like fast flow away, my dance is also the eighth grade, every memory of the past, I will smile, because I have an inseparable edge with the dance, we encountered, move forward together, grow up, so that my childhood added colorful colors, so that my childhood because of the dance and wonderful!

The beautiful prose selection of childhood Part II: Dreamy childhood

The dream of childhood is like a colorful go in the sky, and the years of childhood are like a sweet song in the heart.

? Time flies like an arrow, the sun and the moon like a shuttle? Gradually, I grew up, and the time of my childhood passed away quietly.

Now I've become a dresser. Whenever I see those hand creams, moisturizers and other daily necessities, I can't help but think of the childhood anecdote that impressed me so much.

It was when I was four years old and my mom took me to my sister's house to play. Mom and my sister were chatting vigorously, and I was bored by myself, so I went straight into my sister's room to play.

I picked up a bottle on my sister's desk that had English written on it, which I couldn't read. But I saw that my sister washed her face with a pink bottle, transparent. And the sister in the neighborhood washed her hair with a blue bottle, also transparent.? By the way, this stuff big washes both face and hair!!!? I took this stuff to the bathroom, got a basin of water, squeezed a little bit of the stuff in the bottle and rubbed it on my face. As I did so, I suddenly felt the skin on my face wrinkle, and the wrinkles got tighter and tighter. I tried to open my mouth, but the skin was so tight that it was difficult to open my mouth.

I thought, this may be a normal reaction, it's okay. So, I washed my hair again, and as I washed, my hair stuck. I pick at my face, fell down a piece of the same color as the skin. I freaked out and rushed out of the bathroom, yelling at the top of my lungs: ? The shampoo is expired, I'm going to get a small pimple on my face.? My mom came at the sound and asked me: ? What's wrong with you, what's wrong? I held up the bottle and said: ? I put it on and my hair is sticking to it and the skin on my face is coming off.? My mom and sister looked at my wretched appearance, took the bottle and laughed in unison. And I was like two feet in the air, screaming: ? What are you laughing at? What is this thing ah is a mask.? After that, they laughed again!

Childhood is so carefree and innocent, childhood is so colorful and picturesque.

The beautiful prose selection of childhood Part III: Countryside childhood

Double break in the snowy days, travel inconvenience, leisure and boredom, rummage through all the bookshelves, the author's a wisp of nostalgia, so that I remembered my childhood in the countryside?

Childhood, and grandparents together is quiet and leisurely days, the footsteps of time is very slow. In the yard, the land surface was slippery by our stomping, and the fire in the stove illuminated the walls brightly. Under the eaves of the house, a few green bricks were unevenly washed by the water from the eaves. In the sunken soil, a few skinny watermelon seedlings have grown?

In front of the door, the tall old elm tree, was repaired by the grandfather only thin branches, the arrival of spring, the branches of the fat elm money, in the warm spring breeze to do a variety of poses. Standing in the narrow alley, you can see the high dike behind the village, and the willow branches swaying in the wind on the top of the dike?

The red jujube tree in the yard has long been looking forward to the arrival of summer, jujube in the washing of summer rain to reveal the smiling face, half-hidden in the middle of the leaves, shy!

In the fall wind, a clump of sorghum in the corner was blown to bend like a bow, and the green stem was full of sweet juice. The reeds in the gully behind the village drew white spikes, white rushes, light and airy. The field is a golden yellow, bulging pods, silly old corn, low-hanging jujube branches? The first thing you need to do is to get your hands dirty.

There is a sweet potato field in the west of the village, and the sweet potato vine was removed and thrown at the edge of the ground. After the fall, the uncles who have nothing to do, always in the harvested sweet potato field to turn around, searching for unexpected harvest?

The only brick houses in the village, is the village school, just after the winter, the old man half a hundred old glasses Mr. magic, overnight, in the center of the school made a fire. Warm room, a group of children who do not understand, seem to understand to listen to Mr. told? The Chinese People's **** and the State