I have seen countless hands, big hands, small hands, hands with delicate skin, hands with rough skin, warm hands, cold hands... But grandma's hands are very special - no matter what Sometimes, they are all warm and white, stacked together, like a lovely white dove.

Looking carefully at grandma’s hands, there were two thick and hard calluses on her hands. I thought: It must be left over from the hard work when grandma was a teacher! There are many wrinkles on grandma’s hands. I think these are the traces carved by the ruthless years!

Grandma’s hands are hard-working and can make delicious dishes. If my brother and I were going to live at grandma's place, grandma would definitely call in advance and let my brother and I order food. One of my grandma's hobbies is that when she eats something delicious in a restaurant outside, she will taste it carefully, thinking about how to make the dish, and then do her own "experiment" when she gets home.

Grandma often cooks a large table of delicious food for me. Every time my brother and I eat the food cooked by grandma, we can't help but gobble it up and have a full meal, because the food cooked by grandma is so delicious!

Grandma’s hands created so many wonderful things! I love these hands, and I love my grandma even more!

Composition 2: Gentle Hands

Crack! "Why are you so disobedient? Why don't you listen when I tell you not to play in the water? How come you kid can't understand?"

Wow..."Why are you beating me? Hit me, hit me. You know it." Hit me, is the flesh on my body all dead skin?"

"Why do you dare to force your mouth?"

In a blink of an eye, that hateful hand was on my mouth again. , blood, blood...you beat me till I bleed, you are so cruel!

As I spoke, nosebleeds poured out from my nose. At that time, I had never seen so much blood. My face burst into tears. I don’t know whether the tears flowed into the pool of blood or whether it was because the tears flowed into the pool of blood. The blood dyed the river, and it was a mixture of blood and water. My mother ran to the bathroom, tore off a long string of toilet paper, and carried my sixty-pound body to the sofa. She was still mumbling: "Oh, You're so stupid, you should wash the blood first, how can you wipe it with paper?" As she said that, my mother rushed to the bathroom, filled the basin with water, rushed over, and sprinkled it while running. I thought to myself; "You asked for it! "

My mother asked me to lower my head. She dipped her hand in water, patted my forehead gently, and then slowly washed away the blood. Ah! My mother's hands are so gentle and comfortable. I saw a lot of calluses on my mother's hands, which were yellow and fat. Did my mother beat me to get them? No! No! My mother made it while doing housework! It was caused by my mother's worry.

This incident is like a footprint in my heart, even if it was a small thing four years ago. Now, my mother no longer beats me, she often uses her gentle My mother’s hands are caressing me.

Mom’s hands are not gentle because they are beautiful, but beautiful because of their gentleness!