Composition 800 on the topic of time story
The time that used to be, is now long gone. Remember? That year? A boy gently picked you up with his strong arms and kissed your forehead deeply. A girl lay in the hospital bed in front of him, leaving tears of joy. Your appearance completely broke their quiet little days. From then on, they began to grow up. You made them grow up. Every day, their happiest thing is to learn you an interesting bedtime story, a nursery rhyme that suits you. Then teach you, make you laugh, think about your future and love, it won't last long. The most beautiful love is because of you, even if the throb of that year is gone, they will get closer, because that is affection and responsibility. Year after year, you have learned the two most beautiful terms in the world: father and mother. That year, you just learned to crawl. They recorded it excitedly with their cameras. That year, you learned to walk and even run happily, thinking that you no longer need their arms. That year, they walked into the park again, holding it tightly in their hands. Xiao you, remember he asked you, what do you want to be when you grow up? Astronaut? Scientists? Go to Tsinghua? Go to Peking University? Then I held you in my arms with a smile and said something like this. You must be promising when you grow up. Really, one day, did you say you would go to school by yourself? Does it mean that one day, you will sleep by yourself? Did you ever tell her to stop nagging? Did you say one day that you wanted the same thing as that child? Did you tell him one day that my business is none of your business? Is it true that one day, you never do your homework? Is it true that one day, you think they think too much about Tsinghua Peking University? Do you think you will be an adult one day? Did you have a big fight with them one day? Did you find out who you like one day? Was it that day that you made a group of friends you thought were lifelong friends? Really, one day, when they prepared a birthday menu for you, did you say you would spend it with your classmates? Have you ever hated them and even wanted to leave this house one day? Is it true that one day, you said that the school was in class and you went to the Internet cafe? Did you find yourself in love with the Internet one day? Still saving money to go to the internet cafe? Flush the equipment? Did you learn to smoke and drink one day? It's not because I'm good, but because I'm bravado for a while and I can't let it go anymore. Is it that one day, you drank too much outside and rummaged through your mobile phone, but there was no number to dial? Is it true that one day, you want to find a job outside, but you find life so painful and meaningful? Do they provide delicious food when you are hungry? Did they tuck you in when you were cold? Do they wipe away your tears when you cry? Did they show you the way when you were confused? Do they laugh when you are happy? Did they accompany you to the hospital when you were sick? Did they ignite your hope when you were desperate? When you grow up, do you feel warm when they hug you? They are, they are, they are, you are, and you are? But when you look back, time, streamer, backlight, those once forever have become forever. And that group of people, those heartless silly children who grew up with you ~ the partners who walked side by side, all parted after toasting and blessing.
A story about time urgently needs an 800-word composition.
The Story of Time
When we grow up, we often think, what was I like when I was a child? In ancient times, we often didn't know what we were like when we were young, but in modern times, because of the camera, our wishes can be realized.
Open the photo album and an enlarged photo comes into view. Wearing a grass-green sweater, chubby little hands are kneaded into balls. Wearing a white hat with light blue lace, his eyebrows are sparse, and a small red circle is stuck between his eyebrows.
I don't know exactly what it is. I only remember when I was a child, I wanted to draw a red circle on the photo. ) the meat on the cheeks is piled together, the mouth is slightly open, and the eyes are confused. The words "Good luck" are written next to it. It should be when I was one year old.
Waiting for photos?
Turning to another page, a photo caught my attention. Yo, how about braids? The eyebrows are still a small red heart, and an unknown necklace is hung around the neck. The baby fat has disappeared. Behind it is the background of bamboo forest. I was standing on the ground, my center of gravity was unstable, and I was wearing clothes that looked like pajamas. Next to him is my two-year-old brother with a sword in his hand and his legs spread apart. Only a small part of hair was left in the front, and everything else was shaved off. Biting his lower lip, smiling shyly, cute and extraordinary. By this time, I should be five or six years old. My relatives said that I could sing and dance when I was a child. Of course, I was taught in kindergarten. I often hum the song of seven sons, accompanied by movements. But now I don't remember.
Turning over a few pages, I saw a photo of my childhood, which aroused my anger as a child. Remember, I had long hair when I was a child. But mom just cut her hair into a boy's hairstyle and looked in the mirror.
Hairstyle. She began to cry as soon as the corners of her mouth were flat. My mother ignored me and took me away directly. Later, my second sister coaxed me into taking pictures. It just stopped, but my brother was wearing a light green sling and his hat was upside down.
Put it on. With a small face upturned, people can't help laughing.
Looking back, Brother Xie said that this photo looks like a village girl, wearing a flower headscarf and carrying a basket, which is worthy of the name. I stared at the photo carefully. The clothes were rustic and the light was also a problem. It looks dark, and the cheeks are red and more prominent. When I was eight or nine years old, I was covered by the name village girl.
There is a big picture next to it. I remember this photo clearly. I have a mask of Pig Bajie, and my brother has a mask of the Monkey King. His eyes are red. Originally, I insisted on the Monkey King's mask, and I didn't want my younger brother, because I was robbed of good things at an early age. But because my brother cried in vain, I had to watch the mask be taken away cruelly. I can tell the twin sisters in the photo at a glance. The elder sister is more delicate, and the second sister is more heroic. There are also a few strange faces, which should be distant relatives.
Then there is a recent photo. I wear a uniform ponytail and a wig. When I was a child, my round face turned into a melon face. After post-treatment, my darker skin turned white. Wearing a pure white princess dress, holding the skirt in both hands and smiling brightly.
Photos record not only the appearance of childhood, but also the story of time.
The story composition of time
"An inch of time is an inch of gold, and a thousand dollars can't buy an inch of time."
In the long river of years, the passage of time is always "ticking", which is invisible and intangible, leaving countless joys and sorrows for people. It is always so magical that it silently passes by us. When you are reading, it will slip away from your eyes; When you express your feelings, it will pass your pen gently; When you sigh about life, it will unconsciously cycle through the years. ...
So do we in time. Once a sunshine teenager, after the passage of time, he has now become a young man who struggles for his career; Also a baby who used to cry only by trumpet. After long-term changes, he has now become a glorious young pioneer ... all this is formed after a long time and the passage of time. It turns people from a sunny smile into layers of old wrinkles on their foreheads, and turns once curious and ignorant children into teenagers who need to know how to be calm when things go wrong. These are all brought to us by time, and they are constantly changing and changing on the road of life.
Time always flies so fast that when we don't understand its existence, it has already "ticked away". "Where is the time? I'm old when I'm young, and I have children ... "Every time I hear this song in my ear, I feel infinite emotion in my heart. We thank our parents for their countless love, and we are also feeling the rush of time, our growth, and the aging caused by the hard work of our parents.
The story of time not only contains the years that are gone forever, but more importantly, our parents' infinite love for us, which deserves our lifelong cherish and nostalgia.
Close your eyes, and time will pass in your ear. Think carefully about what time has brought us and what we have lost. The sunshine after the storm always needs people to polish it again and again in order to get their truly valuable life.
The earth is struggling, flowers are smiling, birds are singing and trees are yearning. What are you doing? We should cherish and cherish every bit around us, and you will find that we are also writing stories of that era!
The story composition of time
The Story of Time
The floating clouds on the horizon, floating on the clouds at lightning speed, try to attract the attention of every flower and grass with their dazzling light-the yearning for childhood.
When I was a child, I always liked to hold a sweet lollipop in my left hand, pull up a corner of my skirt in my right hand, sway my body in the envious and yearning eyes of my friends, and listen to the ecstatic voices of my friends. However, a little sister next door proudly took out her beautiful bow from the closet, so she was surrounded by admiration and I heard her crying. I can only go home alone with the doll in my arms, muttering in her ear: "Only you know me best, I am the most beautiful and beautiful princess …" In this way, I spent my childhood troubles in narcissism and self-comfort.
The wind and clouds have gone, the wipers have withered, and clouds, thunder, the moon, stars and the majestic sky are all spreading their grand plans in my persistent and persistent handprints-my childhood dreams.
When I was a teenager, I always appreciated my personality and mood. In my clenched hand, I wrote a mixture of sweat and tears. The tiger's mouth firmly grasped the pen that had been stripped of paint, as if carrying the soul of the nation. The grandeur and fighting spirit in the brow added a great integrity to Pangu's creation. However, the struggle always exists! I am desperately competing to surpass all my opponents, but I obviously feel tired and smell shortness of breath and inadequacy. Hearing the criticism and ridicule of others, I suddenly felt powerless, as if I lost my steady pace, light body and wonderful blood flow for an instant and fell into a bottomless hesitation. I was looking for myself, but when I landed, I saw my heart clearly. I will redouble my efforts and pay. When the wings fall off, pick up the scattered feathers again, lift the dancing face and smile at the successful flowers and applause. So, I think, when I was a teenager, I used self-encouragement to relieve my troubles.
The colorful autumn of the British people is as gorgeous as the gloomy red clouds, which proves that my Buddha smiles clearly. Find a piece of bluestone and watch the vicissitudes of life ... wandering as an adult. As an adult, the more tired the heart is, the more eager it is to be moist and soft. To be precise, this is my youth. Right hand holding left hand, lingering in my heart, my heart just wants to be imprisoned in this wanton yearning forever. However, there is no eternal commitment. The sky is full of green glaze, so let it be, but also learn to leave each other and go their separate ways. When I turned around, I smiled naturally and sincerely. Gradually, in my youth, I turned around and turned around a few times, writing out my troubles and putting them aside.
Put on a pot of wine, drink, shake your head and face the day.
Story composition in time junior high school
Those forgotten in memory gradually settle down and become quiet and beautiful patterns in our hearts. However, when something really touches those memories, they will fly away like dust, and then the warm picture will come back to my eyes. There will be waves of sadness about passing away in our hearts, which will last for a long time.
When I read the article "Time flies like water", I really remembered my primary school days. Although the author's experience is different from mine, her article is the feeling caused by returning to the high school campus, but the feeling of missing her alma mater, her old teachers and classmates and her school time there is the same.
I seem to hear the laughter of my old classmates again. I close my eyes and imagine myself sitting in that familiar classroom, surrounded by you, him, her and them. I hear you calling my name, a distant voice, and there is a vague tremor in my memory. I heard the sound of his basketball landing, and I think I can hear the sound of his running footsteps dripping with sweat. I heard her laugh, and the silvery sound got into my ears. I heard them doing their homework quietly, and the sound of rustling spread in the air like still notes. I heard her talking on the podium about the math problem that made most people sleepy. I heard him strike the table when he was angry. I heard the wind whistling through the treetops. I heard the music of eye exercises playing on the old school radio. ……
I heard you. How can I see you again? Sadness spread quietly, and I remembered the days when I was with you.
Sometimes it takes a long time to conceive a sentence, and then I look at the words I spent a lot of time writing, and I am satisfied and ecstatic. Sometimes we spend little time thinking about the past, and then we recall the past time with sadness.
If time is really like water, then please flow slowly and then slowly. If time can go back, I hope to go back to the day we met. The story of time begins again. In the story, there are moments when we are lost.
Write a 750-word composition about the story of time.
A composition, for reference only:
The Story of Time
Those forgotten in memory gradually settle down and become quiet and beautiful patterns in our hearts. However, when something really touches those memories, they will fly away like dust, and then the warm picture will come back to my eyes. There will be waves of sadness about passing away in our hearts, which will last for a long time.
When I read the article "Time flies like water", I really remembered my primary school days. Although the author's experience is different from mine, her article is a feeling caused by returning to the high school campus, but the feelings of missing the old alma mater, teachers, classmates and school time at that time are the same.
I seem to hear the laughter of my old classmates again. I close my eyes and imagine myself sitting in that familiar classroom, surrounded by you, him, her and them.
I hear you calling my name, a distant voice, and there is a vague tremor in my memory.
I heard the sound of his basketball landing, and I seemed to hear the sound of his sweat dripping during the running.
I heard her laugh, and the silvery sound got into my ears.
I heard them doing their homework quietly, and the sound of "rustling" spread in the air and became a still note.
I heard her talking on the podium about the math problem that made most people sleepy.
I heard him strike the table when he was angry.
I heard the wind whistling through the treetops.
I heard the music of eye exercises playing on the old school radio.
……
I heard you.
How can I see you again?
Sadness spread quietly, and I remembered the days when I was with you.
Sometimes it takes a long time to conceive a sentence, and then I look at the words I spent a lot of time writing, and I am satisfied and ecstatic.
Sometimes we spend little time thinking about the past, and then we look back sadly on our traces in those lost times.
If time is really like water, then please flow slowly and then slowly.
If time can go back, I hope to go back to the day we met. The story of time begins again.
In the story, there are moments when we are lost.
Write a composition about the story of time.
You left gently, just like you came gently, but you didn't come without a trace. You have brought thousands of changes to our lives. This is your quiet strength. Sometimes we ask you if you really left.
Decades of life, a snap of your fingers. We used to smile all the time, and we were full of happiness around us. In spring, we roll on the grass and fly kites. In summer, we go boating in the blue lake. In autumn, we go to the Woods to pick beautiful leaves as specimens. We went to see Chimonanthus praecox in winter to understand its quality. At that time, we were carefree and had a good time. Now, we are more mature, less naive, more cautious, less reckless, more diligent and less lazy. When all the lights are out, we still study hard under the lights. Until late at night, we dragged our tired bodies in bed and quietly thought about tomorrow. We are no longer confused and decadent. Only then did we know that young people are eager to learn, but old people are hard to succeed, and one inch of time is an inch of light. We don't want to regret it until we say, "If we don't work hard, we will be sad." This time, we are also happy. Try harder.
Soong Ching Ling said, "China is a sleeping lion, but it won't sleep forever. One day, its roar will shock the world. " Now, her words have been verified. China was backward in the past, and it was common to be bullied by foreign countries. In the past, China was closed to the outside world and didn't know how to cooperate with other countries. Now, China, the sleeping lion, has woken up and become an international country with advanced technology, prosperous economy, enhanced comprehensive national strength and enhanced international status. What changed it? It is time!
What are some good examples of story composition in time?
Those forgotten memories gradually settled down and became quiet and beautiful patterns in our hearts. But if something really touches those memories, they will fly away like dust, and then those warm pictures will come back to our eyes. Waves of sadness about passing away will linger in our hearts for a long time.
When I read the article "Time flies like water", I really remembered my primary school days. Although the author's experience is different from mine, her article is the feeling caused by returning to the high school campus, but the feelings of missing my alma mater, my old teachers and classmates and my school days are the same.
I seem to hear the laughter of my old classmates again. I close my eyes and imagine myself sitting in that familiar classroom, surrounded by you, him, her and them. I hear you calling my name, with a distant voice and a faint tremor in my memory. Once I heard his basketball fall to the ground, and I seemed to hear his dripping sweat in the running steps. I heard her laughing. A silvery sound came into my ears. I heard them doing their homework quietly, and the sound of rustling became a still note in the air. I heard her talking on the podium about the math problem that made most people sleepy. I heard him strike the table when he was angry. I heard the wind whistling through the treetops. I heard the big radio in disrepair at school playing with my eyes.
I heard you. How can I see you again? Sadness spread quietly, and I remembered the days when I was with you.