On a snowy day, there is such a story.

Winter is coming, and snowflakes are flying like goose feathers.

Early in the morning, I walked in the street and felt very cold.

The day before yesterday, the city ordered all kinds of advertisements and leaflets. Posted in any corner should be cleaned up. To this end, all the cleaners in the city have been dispatched and started to clean this beautiful city comprehensively.

I watched snowflakes flying all over the sky and a bunch of busy cleaners.

Inadvertently, I found some leaflets and other papers stuck on the smooth wall opposite, and an old woman cleaner was tearing them carefully. Those papers seem difficult to tear. The cleaning lady brushes them with a brush dipped in water, and then carefully tears them with her hands.

I think her hands must be cold, but she is not afraid of cold, and there is a fire in her heart.

She was very serious and cleaned several sheets of paper in succession.

She went to another house.

However, I saw that her right hand was raised, but it stopped in the air and seemed to be solidified. I saw her body getting closer to the wall again. Then I saw her shake her head slightly.

What happened? What happened? I want to know.

I saw that she looked intently for a while, and then slowly left the paper without cleaning it.

Why not clear it? Did she forget the city rules? A series of questions came to my mind.

Well, then, I think I'll take a look.

I was just about to start when I saw another thin cleaning lady coming to the newspaper office. Her behavior is exactly the same as that of the old cleaner: raising her right hand and freezing in the air; Shake your head slightly; Keep your eyes on it for a while and leave slowly.

I was more puzzled and decided to have a look.

Cross the road and come to the front of that wall. What caught my attention was the search for you. It says: Zhao Jie, female, 14 years old. ...

I finally understood everything after the doubts were solved.

Snowflakes are still flying like goose feathers, but I no longer feel cold. ...

Mom's hand

The dream of a foreign land is almost real in MengMeng. I hurried back to Taiwan Province last autumn. When I came back, the scenery in my dream was blurred. Old friends, new friends and relatives are fading away, leaving my mother alone, which makes me look like Mount Tai and fills my dreams.

That night, I dreamed of my mother. Mother was born in vilen. Backed by sunset, ancient roads, bamboo buildings, cooking smoke, distant mountains and great rivers, I look up at the celestial pole as vast as Yuan Ye. In the blue sea and blue sky, there is a kite like a whale, which floats and sinks. Mother holds the thread tightly in her hand, and the winding thread is her white hair. In an instant, the wind blew hard, the smoke in the kitchen dissipated, the sunset disappeared, the ancient road disappeared, the distant mountains fell into the boundless sky, and the sound of the river drowned the mother's words ... The image of the mother gradually faded; My eyes stared at her-my hands, those big hands, covered everything I could see with tears. That hand, I walked into the door of this world; Those ten fingers are the candlelight on the top of the mountain, which makes my world without the light and heat of the sun.

My mother's hand, in my first strong impression, is to punish my hand. It is inevitable that children will be scolded and beaten by adults, but I don't remember any scenes where mothers beat them. Even the most common spanking is gone. Even so, mother's punishment is worse than spanking, and she has a unique skill. When I said the trick, she pulled it hard at the same time-picked it up and twisted it painfully. Pulling or twisting may be the usual way for Chinese mothers to give up boys. Except for the cruel method that the stepmother has no comment on the "little bitch" who comes out of the closet, the general loving mother will always come out of this kind of situation under the psychological pressure of wanting her son to become a dragon.

My mother, like hundreds of millions of mothers in the world, is "deeply in love and conscientious" to me. Especially when I was a child, the country was in trouble, and the people were robbed and left their homes, which made mothers more strict with their children, eager to love them, and demanded more and more of them. My mother's love for me is not my mother-in-law's love for Wu Mu, but in this turbulent era, my mother, like any Chinese mother who fled the home front, can show affection and love for her children in the years to come. In Anshun, Guizhou, one year, a guest came from afar, and the mother prepared several dishes, which was a golden opportunity for the children to have a "rare sumptuous food". Because I was greedy, I filled half a bowl of rice more than usual, but after two bites, I said I couldn't eat anything. Across the table, I looked at my mother in fear. Her expression was calm and dignified. She said to me, "Eat it and don't stay." I shook my head, and my mother's face turned to disappointment and resentment, but she still said faintly, "Then go down and set the dishes." Before the last banquet of adults, I stole a glance at my mother from time to time, but her face never showed. Don't laugh. My mother can't control the long-term pressure when the guests quit at night. She dragged me over, pressed me on the bed mindlessly, twisted my arm and kept saying, "Why can't you eat any more and still be full?" It's not easy to eat enough. Do you know that there are still children begging in the street? "After pulling and twisting, I saw my mother sitting on the bed sobbing. Since then, there has been no rice left in my rice bowl.

Of course, my mother's hand has its own delicate side in my feelings. At that time, all the clothes, pants and socks of a family of six were washed by their mothers. Pour a pot of hot water into a big wooden basin, and then put about three cold water washbasins, a washboard, a soap foot or a piece of yellow soap, and the clothes will be turned up between her fingers-F. At that time, Anshun had no running water, so people who lived in the yard with wells could use it, and those without wells needed to buy water. There are water sellers walking in the streets of the city all day long with two buckets of water (the water is covered with lotus leaves). We belong to strangers who want to buy water. In cold weather, my mother washes clothes in front of the porch under the eaves. She always blushes and washes one by one with difficulty and silently. I often peek at paper windows with holes. Before washing, mother always carefully takes off the wedding ring on her ring finger. By the time the washed clothes were hung on the bamboo pole on the porch, her fingers were red and swollen with cold. I didn't know until I grew up that in those years after marriage, my mother lived a rich "housewife" life, and my eldest brother, my third brother and I were all led by a wet nurse. However, under the baptism of July 7th artillery fire, mother's delicate hands have been thoroughly remoulded and become thick and powerful enough to cope with any hardships. It is also those hands covered with thick and hard cocoons, under the dim oil lamp, supervising our brothers' study without relaxation. Rough and fragile papyrus books, one after another, page after page, turned between her fingers like a calendar. In the third grade of primary school, I failed because of my poor homework. I remember when I handed my report card to my mother, I didn't have the courage to look at her face. I looked down and saw my mother holding the "Historical Records" hand, shaking worse than myself. However, unexpectedly, those hands pressed gently on my head, and I heard my mother say calmly, "Never mind, I hope I can work harder next year." I can't remember exactly how long I stood, but I will always remember the deep impression left by those hands.

On winter nights, the fire gradually goes out, and the air in the room is more Han Xiao. After we went to bed, my mother sat by the fire and began to mend our clothes and socks by the dim light. Sometimes she puts on thick cloth soles with an awl, and then passes hemp ropes through pinholes and tightens them one by one. That painful bear is probably the overdraft she got from wearing new shoes on our feet!

However, in those years, there were still many times when my mother was always in high spirits. On this occasion, she will take the initiative to take out Yuping Xiao and a flute brought from Peiping and play a song. The songs that her mother often plays are Hugging the Tiger, Lin Chong Running at Night, Dream in the Garden and Moonlit Night on the Spring River. Those hands, jumping so lightly on every scale, are so beautiful and talented.

When I went back to Taiwan Province last summer, I noticed that my mother's hands had more stripes and trembled slightly. The wedding ring looks a little loose. One morning, it was just me and my mother at home. I went to the kitchen to make tea and poured her a cup. When I put the cup in her hand, I saw those hands so close for the first time, but I was afraid to touch them easily. In an instant, those hands became so huge that I found the unchanging strength for Yunyue, who will leave Taiwan Province for three days and eight thousand miles. Mother's hands have never been coated with chlamydia, and she has never rubbed any cosmetic crystals. Only in this way, is a pair of perfect hands.

Be moved by happiness

There is a feeling called happiness, and there is a kind of happiness called moving. And I am a lucky girl who will enjoy this happiness.

It snowed heavily that winter. The night before New Year's Eve, I lay by the window watching the snow. The light is full of flying snowflakes, as if unable to restrain joy. When the Spring Festival comes, the continuous firecrackers are full of warm atmosphere. Everything seems to be reflected in the background of orange light, including a few silver hairs faintly visible in parents' hair, shining in the painting on this winter night.

I will never forget how my parents raised me. They watered me with simplicity and kindness, let wisdom and enthusiasm permeate me, and let my little flowers thrive happily. I can't remember how many times I fell. My parents cheered me up with encouraging eyes and kind smiles and made me stand up again. I can't forget how many nights I reviewed my lessons under the lamp, and my parents sat under the lamp and silently accompanied me late at night-I can't remember how many little things were full of my parents' love, and I can't forget how many parents cared like sunshine.

Suddenly, I felt that the light was full of love, and my face was unconsciously wet in the dancing of snowflakes. Looking at this quiet night scene, I suddenly felt very moved and felt that I should do something for it. The next day, I wanted to surprise my parents.

I got up quietly at first light the next day. It snowed like goose feather all night, making the earth bright, even the sunshine outside the window was so dazzling. I was in a hurry to open the door for an appointment, and when I opened the door, I froze. A snow doll stood in front of my house with a playful look, a big red hat on her head, waving a "big hand" and smiling sweetly. With a snort, I couldn't help laughing. "Happy New Year!" Two people came out from behind the snow doll. So it's mom and dad. They looked at me tenderly. My nose is suddenly sour, and tears can't help flowing down. I want to give my parents a-

I didn't expect them-I was speechless in the face of my parents' smiles. In that snow, I took my parents and looked at them affectionately for a long time-I remember a poet saying, "How can I thank you?" When I came to you, I wanted to harvest a spring breeze, but you gave me the whole spring; How can I thank you? When I came to you, I wanted to hold a handful of waves, but you gave me the whole ocean. " Yes, how can I thank you, mom and dad? You gave me life, you gave me strength, you gave me happiness, but I got nothing in return. There is a feeling called happiness, and there is a kind of happiness called moving. Thank you, mom and dad, for giving me happiness and moving me. I understand your hardships, I understand your hope, and I will try my best to give you happiness and let you learn to be moved!

Smiling changed me.

It's weird. I don't know when it started. I just like a person: I seldom help others and I don't want to ask for help. Even if you get help from others, you will pay them back like a debt. I am worthy of the world, don't let the world lose me. However, these years have occupied my mind, but in the light of that smile, it suddenly became like dust and disappeared without a trace. ...

It was two days of heavy rain, and the cement bridge over the river that I had to go to school every day was washed away by the river. Only the tall old wooden bridge still stands on both sides of the river. This is a bridge built side by side with only two round and slippery pieces of wood; Usually I walk across the bridge empty-handed.

Facing the bridge, I hesitated. There are still 10 minutes before class begins. I picked up my bike and made a decision I couldn't believe: I rode my bike across the wooden bridge. For the first ten meters, I walked in an arrogant atmosphere and felt nothing. Gradually, the wood under my feet was shaking desperately. The rushing river under the Woods makes me dizzy and my legs are getting softer and softer. It seems difficult to support the weight of my body. I don't know how I got to the middle of the wooden bridge. There is only half the distance left, but I can't walk any further. I thought about moving back a little, but I couldn't even turn around. The sound of running water in my ear makes me almost desperate. I tried to throw my bike into the river several times.

I'm moving forward. You can't return it, and neither can I. Suddenly, the car on my shoulder suddenly lit up and then gradually left my shoulder. It was a big hand that took the bike from me. At that moment, I really couldn't express my gratitude. I turned my head slowly: it was a strange face full of smiles. Time doesn't allow me to look carefully, only that moment makes me feel that smile is so sincere and lovely!

The car and I finally reached the other shore safely, full of gratitude made me look at that smiling face carefully: my dark skin and narrow eyes could not conceal my sincere eyes. Fine wrinkles crawling around the corner of my eyes, chapped lips slightly open. Ah, an unpretentious farmer in his forties.

What an ordinary smile this is! Ordinary can't be ordinary, but I can't forget it. Let me experience the best things between people for the first time, although it is only a faint smile. For many years, that smile has been buried deep in my heart. I learned to use the same smile to help a fallen child, help push a struggling truck, or (lend) an umbrella to my classmate. And every time you help others without asking for anything in return and smile at them sincerely, you will truly realize the true meaning and value of the smile buried in your heart. It's not noble, but it makes you proud. Smile, with beautiful feelings, I really can't find the right words to describe it. Maybe this poem will express its meaning:

Others gave me a smile, and I gave it to more people. This passage is not only the deepening of the theme, but also the echo of the beginning.

"Roses with others leave a stronger fragrance!"