Home is a deep language of love; Home is nagging; Home is a trivial day that turns over page by page; Home is a string of red peppers hanging under the eaves.
Wherever you are, the distance from home is close at hand. Because home is the thread in the hands of a loving mother. It was sewn tightly on your body before you left. No matter how far away from home. The feeling of home is always so warm, full of mom's advice and dad's concern, and I will never forget it.
Home is a haven for drifters, a habitat for love, a post station for the soul and a spiritual paradise. It is an exhortation at work; It is an umbrella when it rains; It is a painful responsibility when you are sick, you wait patiently; When arguing, it is mutual tolerance.
Children smile when they hug their knees; It is the tacit understanding of the eyes; It is a phone call that parents deeply miss and care about when they are wandering outside; It is the wandering wanderer's deep concern.
The river in my hometown quietly has the tranquility of her years, and the grove by the river looks at the opposite river steadily. On the white and green banks, frogs and drums came from time to time. Dragonflies are dancing gently in the middle of the river, and when they walk down, they wake up the sleeping river. Flocks of wild ducks are playing happily in the river.
I love my home, a happy and warm home. Get up every day, you will see your parents are busy; Whenever school is over, delicious meals will be placed on the table; Whenever I encounter difficulties in my study, my parents always patiently explain to me; Whenever I am sick, my parents are always with me ... all this makes me feel that my home is full of sunshine and incomparable warmth.