I can't forget that scene. 1 On the road of life, we will encounter all kinds of scenes, only a few of which will be fixed in our minds. What remains in our hearts is our precious wealth in the process of growth. They are like dazzling stars, hanging high in the vast night sky.
If you forget, you won't recall, but the scenes left behind seem to be blocked by us in the long river of memory, which needs us to discover and collect. ...
In the depths of my memory, there is a bright star flashing constantly, reminding its existence at all times.
The story happened that winter. Winter, a season that means cold, silence and desolation, has a warm existence.
The snow on the roadside sparkled in the sun. The snow on the road melts very quickly because of the snow melting agent, and soon becomes snow water. As the temperature dropped, the road was frozen. The tires of the car are equipped with snow chains. Pedestrians who go out should try not to walk on the ice. Even if they walk on the ice, they are cautious for fear of falling.
That day, because I was going to the supermarket to buy things, I said hello to my parents and went downstairs. The north wind roared, grabbing the hair of pedestrians with its thick fingers and stabbing the skin of pedestrians like needles. Desperate, I had to wrap my clothes tightly and walk against the wind like a turtle. When I arrived at the supermarket, I breathed a sigh of relief and quickly stepped into the stationery area. I chose it three times, five times and twice, and then I went straight to the cashier.
After paying the bill, I walked home slowly. When I came to a corner, I heard a noise, so I changed my walking track and walked towards the sound source. I saw an old woman lying on the icy road. Just when I hesitated to help her, a man stepped forward and helped her sit in a chair by the side of the road. He said to the old nurse, "Are you all right, old man? Do you need to go to the hospital? " The old woman shook her head slowly. "I'm fine, young man, thank you." The man added, "I'll take you home. It's freezing. It's not good to fall again. " Grandma quickly said: "How good is this? Too much trouble for you. " "No trouble, no trouble." "Thank you very much."
The sun shines behind the old man and grandmother. I looked at a photo of a man walking with his grandmother, and my heart was full of warmth.
Today, I still remember that scene clearly. ...
I can't forget that scene. I believe many people have raised silkworms, but who noticed when it changed?
I was very happy to see that the little silkworm was petite and lovely, so I bought it back to my family and took good care of it until I watched it grow up and wriggle and bite on the mulberry leaves. Until one day, silkworms began to cocoon and change. I am looking forward to, looking forward to, carefully observing their every move.
Most silkworms began to spin silk and form cocoons, only one silkworm slowly chewed mulberry leaves and crawled slowly. After a few days, it began to rotate slowly. Its body is a little bigger than its companion, so its cocoon should be a little bigger. It is holding a bloated body, struggling to spit in the east and spray in the west, and has been working hard. With the increase of silk number, its abdomen is shrinking constantly, and it seems that all the silk has been used up but it has not yet cocooned. But it still worked hard and kept working, sealing the cocoon tightly with silver silk. It didn't take long for it to stick its head out inside, as if it were nostalgic for the outside world. For a long time, the cocoon has been impenetrable, but through the light, you can still see the shadow of its efforts.
After about a week, the moth came out of the cocoon and flew high. One by one, her companions flew into the blue sky, embracing their dreams, but only one remained motionless.
"What's the matter, my friend? Can I help you? " I said to myself.
Driven by curiosity, I carefully cut the cocoon with scissors. However, I found that it will never come out and realize my dream: it is dead. Its abdomen is shriveled, and its previous charm has long since disappeared. Its body is rigidly wrapped in this white world, with no vitality and no expectation. But why is this? Look carefully, I am shocked! There is a silver thread hanging on the edge of its closed mouth that will never open again! Dancing in the cool breeze, emitting dazzling light. This scene is deeply embedded in my heart.
Perhaps, it never wanted to make clothes for others, never wanted to be a beautiful career, all it had to do was spin silk and make cocoons, because this was its lifelong pursuit! Imagine the last moment of its life, without giving up pessimistically, without complaining and crying. It is still trying to spin silk and make cocoons, struggling with persistence and expectation, expecting to complete its innate mission, no matter how much it gains. It has not turned into a moth, and it will never taste the joy of nirvana, but it has tried its best to spit out the last trace, leaving the ultimate beauty for this passionate world.
"Silkworms will weave until they die in spring." I recited this well-known poem, and suddenly felt the silent power of fate and its greater-silent persistence.
Life is great, and death can't take away greatness and majesty!
Just a few tens of seconds is enough to shock me next to me. It is a moment, but it is not inferior to eternity.
I can't forget that scene!
I can't forget that scene. Winter passed and spring came late. I hope that spring will come early, that winter will go and spring will come endlessly, and that the first touch of green will be strong.
Stroll in the streets of early spring, looking for information about spring. I was walking when I suddenly saw a grass that had just turned green under a big tree root in Chaoyang. It is a kind of white and tender grass with a hint of bright green. It looks fragile and full of vitality in the chilly spring breeze, but I think it must be the beginning of spring, although it has not spread all over the earth yet.
I can't forget this scene. This weak grass survived the severe winter in the ground, although the cold wind destroyed her body, frosted her roots and buds, and snowflakes covered her head, but it survived tenaciously. Because he wants to be the first touch of new green on the earth and the first messenger to spread spring information.
The wind whipped the weak grass, but she was not afraid. Strong, she will tell everyone who passes by her, every tree, every grass, every animal and our whole city. Endless, tenacious struggle, waiting for growth, calling for the world of flowers.
I looked at the grass that had just awakened from the sadness of weeds in the black and yellow land, and saw her standing in the melting snow, not afraid of the cold wind, not afraid of cold and warm, fighting for the first spring, even if she was weak, she would not lose confidence in herself and grow bravely.
I looked at the grass again. It seems that something is twisting and stretching upwards. It turns out that the earth will be endless, and the grass proves the true colors of life and the vitality of the earth. How great a grass is, it exudes confidence.
Isn't it? The breath of life never dies. People think that success or failure lies in one winter, but the grass has survived one winter after another, without failure, only success. As long as we can stand the test of winter, spring will surely come. So, I was stunned by the sight of the first grass in spring.
I can't forget that scene. Whenever I want to lose my temper, that scene will appear in front of my eyes, let my heart calm down slowly and start to reflect on myself. ...
That night, when I was in the rebellious period of youth, I turned on the TV, and my grumpy father was watching my mobile phone. The atmosphere in our house is tense these days, just like a mine is buried, which is explosive.
I was using my computer as a courseware two days ago. Because it is the first time, it is not so handy and the progress is very slow. I've been fiddling with the computer for nearly an hour, and finally I'm almost finished. I just need to insert a piece of background music. I was about to search the internet for background music, but I couldn't find it. Just when I was upset, I accidentally opened an advertisement that popped up suddenly, and it took me a lot of effort to quit. Suddenly, my father appeared beside me. He saw my every move just now and said loudly, "We agreed to make courseware, but we were actually secretly playing games!" " "I am very annoyed that I can't find music. I am very wronged by my father. I immediately flew into a rage and retorted loudly, "I've been making courseware with my heart, haven't you seen it?" "I wanted to open the courseware to prove my innocence, but I was dumbfounded at once-the courseware just now was not saved! More than an hour of hard work has not been completed. I ran into the room angrily and locked the door. Dad also exploded his eyebrows. Since then, the atmosphere in our family has been very tense.
I watched TV for a while, and my father said very carefully, "Stop watching and go to study." I also replied cautiously: "Today is Friday, and I want to relax." Dad added, "Don't put off your homework until school. The quality will be poor, and there will be no extra time to read more books. " I also argued for various reasons that the two sides launched a "tug-of-war". Gradually, I became impatient, and so did my father. Finally, he shouted in a tone close to the command: "Go and study!" The rebellious psychology of adolescence made me go my own way, and I prepared for a "storm". Strangely, my father, who has always been hot-tempered, has been slow to attack. After a while, I went to the toilet and came back. The TV is off and the remote control is gone. My father pretended to sleep on the sofa. There is no doubt that the "suspect" is dad. I was about to "find fault" when I saw the expression on my father's face. He lay there like a child who had done something wrong. Crazy white hair and wrinkles are very obvious at this time. My heart was deeply touched. I stood by my father for a long time, and I deeply reflected on myself: didn't he do this for my own good? Didn't his white hair and wrinkles grow for me? Dad secretly opened his eyes and gave me a look, interrupting my deep thinking. I looked him in the eye. I didn't speak, just quietly walked into my room, but I couldn't be calm for a long time.
Whenever I want to lose my temper, that scene will emerge in front of my eyes, calm my heart and start to reflect on myself. ...
I can't forget that scene. Five years flies, but what will not disappear is my childlike innocence; The river is polluting, but it can't dye my soul. My mother often tells me to be filial and grateful. How do you repay your mother for raising you? I feel heart-wrenching pain every day. I will never forget that scene!
In the school garbage, we often see a figure. She is so thin that it seems that a breeze can make her fall. She was wearing thin clothes, an old woolen suit with unclear color inside and a tattered dress outside, shivering with cold in the cold winter. Being close will make you fall to the ground in surprise. It turned out that she was an old man in her seventies, with silver hair, unkempt hair, wrinkled face and only a piece of skin left on her face, which made people sad. Why is she picking up rubbish in that dirty and smelly garbage dump? Does she have no children? No, she has children. She has a family, but she was abandoned by her family. They don't like her because she is dirty and smelly, old and unable to work, and she only eats for nothing. I think, if the old man hadn't given birth to those unfilial sons, she might not be where she is today.
The students kept pouring garbage into it, and the dust was flying all over the sky, and her figure became blurred. She didn't stop, but still rummaged carefully. She is so serious and careful that she dare not let go of a piece of paper! She is looking for her life!
It is my turn to be on duty today. Several classmates and I walked towards her with a basket of heavy garbage. I am very careful, very careful, for fear of dumping garbage on her. The old man looked up at me coldly, without any expression, and lowered his head to continue looking for her "baby". I looked at the old man with a sour nose and ran away like that. I lowered my head and walked slowly to the classroom. My heart is heavy, heavy! I seem to be wearing chains under my feet, and I seem to have a heavy burden and can't walk.
Back in the classroom, that scene was deeply imprinted in my mind and could not be eliminated. As soon as I closed my eyes, I saw the old man in rags, indifferent expression and picking up garbage. From then on, when I saw the old man working, I would think of the old man who picked up garbage in the school garbage pit.
This is a complete narrative. The article begins with a topic, telling a scene that we will never forget and stimulating readers' interest in reading. The narrative is coherent, the plot is tortuous, the levels are clear, the details are appropriate, the idea is bold, novel and original.
I can't forget that scene. 6. My piano has passed Grade 8, and I have to practice before I can pass Grade 10! Practice hard! Practice hard! But I just don't take it seriously. As a result, just yesterday, I was punished by my mother.
"Guoguo, go and practice the piano. You have to take the Grade 10 exam this year." Mother's nagging voice came from the kitchen. "Oh," I promised, but my ass stuck to the sofa in the living room like super glue, and my eyes were still staring at the TV. I don't know how long it took, but my mother stood in front of me and said loudly, "Don't you practice the piano? After watching TV all morning, I don't practice on weekends. When do you want to practice? " I am bored to death! Practicing the piano, asking me to practice every day, seems to be more important than life! Although I think so in my heart, I still can't bear to take my eyes off the TV. But in order to express my irritability and dissatisfaction, I went into the piano room and slammed the door.
Ah, that's cool! I vented my dissatisfaction and irritability, but immediately regretted it. I shouldn't have done this to my mother.
The door was pushed open by her mother, whose expression was ugly, her eyebrows crowded together and her teeth clenched. She came up angrily and shouted, "What's your attitude?" Then I jumped on the piano cover, raised my hand and slapped my ass heavily. My ass is burning and my eyes are full of tears. As far as I can remember, my mother has never been so angry and hit me like this.
Watching my tears drop by drop, my mother said angrily, "Don't practice, don't practice if you don't want to!" " Speaking of me, my mother turned around and left me hanging in the room.
The scene of my mother hitting me at that time was deeply reflected in my mind, and it was hard to let go for a long time. I thought, how can there be such a cruel mother in the world! But looking back on that scene, I think I was really wrong. You can't finish what you started and you can't stick to it. In order to let me practice the piano well, my mother spent a lot of time and energy. Take me to the piano teacher's house for class every week and supervise me to practice piano when I come back. But my consciousness is always insufficient, and I get angry when my mother urges me to practice the piano. I can't do this anymore. The scene of my mother hitting me will inspire me. I should take everything seriously and never give up halfway.
I can't forget that scene. The sunshine in summer is dazzling, but it also gives me infinite warmth. I like that smile and I can't forget it.
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It was night and the moonlight poured down. The wind is blowing, bleak and desolate. I looked at the soft lights in the room and remembered an unforgettable scene.
The sunshine is jumping at the fingertips, and the golden cicada is so sweet. Facing the smile of flowers, my parents and I went to the bookstore to buy books. We stayed in the bookstore for a long time before we reluctantly left. But when dad backed up, an aunt behind our car was frightened and jumped off the bike. We thought we would be scolded by our aunt and looked at her guiltily. Before we apologize, there is an unforgettable scene: Aunt not only didn't blame us, but also gave us a sweet smile without stint. I froze, and that slight smile stirred up waves in my heart, which made me deeply moved and infinitely warm. That smile is like a beautiful sunflower, facing the bright sunshine and shining in my heart, which I will never forget.
In those few short seconds, I witnessed the unexpected touch in my life, which is my luck. This silent conversation, though short, was engraved in my heart, which made me unforgettable and became my sweet memory!
I often wonder what would happen if my aunt scolded us. Probably a brief disappointment, and it will fade away over time. There is no shortage of beauty in life, what is lacking is the eyes that find beauty. And I, fortunately, captured a beautiful moment, that bright smile. I see, in fact, a silent smile can touch people's hearts, and that smile should also be kind and flawless.
I will never forget that summer; That scene is deeply imprinted in my heart. Now, I haven't seen that aunt again, but I wish you all the best!
I can't forget that scene. For a while, I was always used to walking with my head down, because there were many things depressing me, trivial but disturbing things. What comes to mind are scores that I will never be satisfied with, and what I complain about in my heart are those things that are dissatisfied and unfair. Struggling in my heart, the more I think about it, the more I cover up the unpleasant things, and my chest is blocked. I walked silently on my way home. Suddenly, a dog barking startled me and abruptly pulled me out of my mind. I looked up in surprise, but the scene in front of me completely shocked me: "It's beautiful, really beautiful!" "I can't help but sigh. Suddenly, it makes my mood much easier.
Yes, this is indeed a peach tree full of flowers, under which is tied a puppy with its tongue sticking out and its tail wagging. But in my eyes, what I see is simply a rouge cloud! Small peach blossoms are densely layered, one after another, just like sunrise. Pink peach blossoms are clustered one after another, filling the whole branch. They are like groups of fairies, scrambling to let me appreciate their gorgeous appearance. Looking from a distance like me, the dense branches seem to be covered with small pink lanterns, which are more dazzling than pink pearls. A breeze blew, and somehow, the peach blossom of this tree lost many petals, just like a peach blossom rain, and the peach petals fell to the ground. The puppy under the tree must have thought it was raining, too, shaking its round body and making its hair messy. I pooped and laughed. There are many petals on the ground, but I didn't notice them just now. An intoxicating peach blossom fragrance came to my face, as if to let me pass. I approached the charming peach tree and stepped on a pink carpet paved with thin petals. Although I can't bear it, I have been fascinated by this peach blossom in front of me: pretty and charming, like a girl's first dress, which reminds me of Cen Can's "a peach blossom with red lips". I believe that no matter who sees such beautiful scenery, they will leave their troubles behind. They are like pieces of rouge, which dyed the green leaves and my face red. They greet the world with vibrant smiles.
If life is so beautiful, what's to complain about? This small peach blossom, which blooms in April, has no rich fragrance of osmanthus, no delicate fragrance of roses, and no praise from the world like lotus. But she still blooms hard, even if a breeze can blow off the petals, she still blooms hard, because her leaves are still there, her branches are still there, and her soul is still there. In this way, no matter for whom or for what, we can hold our heads high and confidently cope with the scorching sun.
That amazing "peach blossom rain" washed away the dark clouds and sludge in my heart. Their disappearance made me understand the fragility of life, but at the same time let me know that the enemy is my will, strength and efforts.
I can't forget this peach blossom fairy, but perhaps I can only say it in Zhang's words: "There is another village with dark flowers and peach blossoms." The wind blows into the curtains just to make the body fragrant. "To describe you.
I reluctantly went upstairs, and when I got home, it was already the bright moon. I opened the window and leaned down to look at it. It was pale pink: the wind passed and the flowers fell, and I danced with the wind in the bright moonlight. Only your branches, your soul still stands in the bright moon. Only we understood at that time, and then we smiled at each other.
I can't forget that scene. How can I forget the splendor of spring, the waves in summer, the fruits in autumn, the snow in winter and the scenery in the sunset? The story begins in the summer when gardenias are fragrant. It was a sunny day. I have finished my homework and have nothing to do. It suddenly occurred to me that today is my mother's birthday. Mother is always too busy to celebrate her birthday, so we should celebrate it today. "Why don't you get a good table and make mom happy?" I suddenly thought of a plan. After intense discussion between the left brain and the right brain, the plan was finally passed. Hey! I've never cooked before, so I'm going to show my talents today.
The kitchen is now a symphony hall. Pots and pans, firewood, rice, oil and salt keep me busy. I ruined four or five good eggs for that dish of scrambled eggs with tomatoes. When I cut bamboo shoots, my hand was cut and bleeding. I have no choice but to suck my fingers and go on working.
Fortunately, with the guidance of the menu, the rice is not burnt, and the food is still moderately salty. Everything is really ready, except the east wind-my mother came home to taste the "delicious" dinner I prepared.
Just as I was elated, the door opened. Oh, it's my mother. I saw her looking at the food on the table and then at me. I thought I would give her a knowing smile, but it turned sunny to cloudy: "Have you finished your homework?" What are you doing with nothing? "I replied with grievance:" It's done. " But my mother said more, "Just finish eating. Do you want to be a nanny when you grow up? " "Mom, today is your birthday!" "Son, what are you doing with these hearts? Hurry up and learn! " There is an irresistible force in mother's majestic voice.
I couldn't help it anymore, rushing out of the house and running aimlessly ... I can't forget that scene, my mother's cold face and cold and heartless words. And that kind of look, that kind of look that plays with everything in the palm of your hand, is like a sword, deeply rooted in my heart. Why, why can't mom understand me? I just want to do something to make her happy. Why should I deprive her of this right? Junior high school students are not Woodenhead. I don't want to struggle in the ocean of problems. That kind of maternal love will drown me in it. I also have a sky of my own. Why should even that small piece of sky be ruthlessly covered by invisible big hands? I don't understand. I still don't understand. Suddenly it began to rain, and my heart was wet by the rain.
The half-opened gardenia bud is like a baby's slightly opened mouth, and several glittering beads roll to his lips. Is that the tears of the weak gardenia in the rain?
Really, until now, that scene still lingers in my mind. Maybe cooking is a very common thing in the world of adults, but I want to take this opportunity to express my feelings for my mother! Is this wrong?
Please give us more sunshine and rain when we grow up!
I can't forget that scene. Excellent composition 10 has been forgotten, although it is violet's ice muscle jade bone;
I forgot, although it was wintersweet's proud smile;
I have forgotten, although it is the refreshing of jasmine;
I forgot, although it is the gentleman spirit of Youlan.
I can't remember how long I haven't seen that unforgettable scene until that day, when I met that person, that thing.
An early winter, an early winter with goose feathers and heavy snow. I walked in the street, wrapped in a down jacket, and staggered forward. On the empty street, there are only me, falling snowflakes and a group of cleaners.
A few days ago, the city ordered that in order to make the city after our birth cleaner and more comfortable, advertisements and leaflets posted in any corner of the city should be removed. Because of this, all the cleaners in this city came out to start a comprehensive cleaning of this beautiful city.
I watched the snow falling all over the sky, and I watched a bunch of cleaners busy.
Inadvertently, I found some leaflets and other papers stuck on the smooth wall opposite, and an old woman cleaner was tearing them carefully. It seems difficult to tear up all those documents. The cleaning lady brushes them with a brush dipped in water, and then carefully tears them with her rough-looking right hand.
I think her hands must be pale and cold, but she is not afraid of the cold. There is a burning fire in her heart.
She is very serious and skilled, and has opened several sheets of paper in succession.
She went to another house.
But I saw, I clearly saw that her right hand did not fall when it was raised, but stopped in the air, as if it were frozen. I saw her body getting closer to the wall again. Then I saw her shake her head slightly.
What happened? What happened? I have questions.
Jade chips are still falling in the sky, which is particularly conspicuous in this world surrounded by a gloomy sky, but I ignored it.
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 go there.
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 stopping in the air; Shake your head slightly; Keep your eyes on it for a while and leave slowly.
I am more confused and more determined to see it.
Cross the road and come to the front of that wall. What caught my attention was ... where is the flyer ... obviously ... obviously looking for you! It says: Li Ai's daughter 14 years old. ...
I finally understood everything.
Snowflakes are still flying like goose feathers, but I don't feel cold anymore. I just feel so warm in my heart … I continue to walk comfortably and walk on this happy road …
Unforgettable, meet such a beautiful and lovely person;
Unforgettable, encounter such a touching thing;
Unforgettable, meet such pure and selfless love;
More unforgettable, that scene, the boundless love I met!
A cold winter is nothing! With love, everything becomes full of tenderness.
I can't forget that scene. Excellent composition 1 1 I can't forget the beauty of spring, the waves in summer, the fruits in autumn, the snow in winter and the scenery in the sunset.
The story begins in the summer when gardenias are fragrant. It was a sunny day. I have finished my homework and have nothing to do. It suddenly occurred to me that today is my mother's birthday. Mother is always too busy to celebrate her birthday, so we should celebrate it today. "Why don't you get a good table and make mom happy?" I suddenly thought of a plan. After intense discussion between the left brain and the right brain, the plan was finally passed. Hey! I've never cooked before, so I'm going to show my talents today.
The kitchen is now a symphony hall. Pots and pans, firewood, rice, oil and salt keep me busy. I ruined four or five good eggs for that dish of scrambled eggs with tomatoes. When I cut bamboo shoots, my hand was cut and bleeding. I have no choice but to suck my fingers and go on working.
Fortunately, with the guidance of the menu, the rice is not burnt, and the food is still moderately salty. Everything is really ready, except the east wind-my mother came home to taste the "delicious" dinner I prepared.
Just as I was elated, the door opened. Oh, it's my mother. I saw her looking at the food on the table and then at me. I thought I would give her a knowing smile, but it turned sunny to cloudy: "Have you finished your homework?" What are you doing with nothing? "I replied with grievance:" It's done. " But my mother said more, "Just finish eating. Do you want to be a nanny when you grow up? " "Mom, today is your birthday!" "Son, what are you doing with these hearts? Hurry up and learn! " There is an irresistible force in mother's majestic voice.
I couldn't help it anymore, rushing out of the house and running aimlessly ... I can't forget that scene, my mother's cold face and cold and heartless words. And that kind of look, that kind of look that plays with everything in the palm of your hand, is like a sword, deeply rooted in my heart. Why, why can't mom understand me? I just want to do something to make her happy. Why should I deprive her of this right? Junior high school students are not Woodenhead. I don't want to struggle in the ocean of problems. That kind of maternal love will drown me in it. I also have a sky of my own. Why should even such a small sky be ruthlessly covered by invisible big hands? I don't understand. I still don't understand. Suddenly it began to rain, and my heart was wet by the rain.
The half-opened gardenia bud is like a baby's slightly opened mouth, and several glittering beads roll to his lips. Is that the tears of the weak gardenia in the rain?
Really, until now, that scene still lingers in my mind. Maybe cooking is a very common thing in the world of adults, but I want to take this opportunity to express my feelings for my mother! Is this wrong?
Please give us more sunshine and rain when we grow up!