In our ordinary daily life, everyone has dealt with composition, which can be divided into primary school composition, middle school composition and college composition (thesis). What is the composition you have seen? The following is the composition I helped you organize and my gratitude story. I hope it will help you. Composition My Thanksgiving Story 1

Inadvertently saw a sentence "The hand is a woman's second face." However, my mother's hands are rough and full of cracks. At that moment, all kinds of things my mother had done for me with these hands came to my mind.

I took her hand as a toddler when I was a child, and then I took her hand into the campus. When I grew up, I walked further and further, stubbornly broke away from her hand and pursued my so-called freedom. But one day, I was black and blue, and when I looked back, I found that my hands were still warm. Time has taken away my mother's youth, but I can never take away the deep love in my palm.

at this moment, I think why not wash my hands for my mother, just as she washed my feet when I was a child.

I made a basin of water, brought it to my mother and said, "Mom, let me wash your hands once!" " I seem to see the tears in the corner of my mother's eyes. She nodded and sobbed, "Good. Grow up and be sensible. "

　> Holding her hand, I found that time covered her hand with "gullies", and the rough texture was accompanied by some bitterness. I can't help asking myself: "Remember those meticulous young hands that used to lead me to school and cross the road?" I sniffed and stroked the chapped scar. My heart tightened. How long has it been since I held her hand? In my impression, her hands are always so warm and soft, which have led me through many spring, summer, autumn and winter, but now they are no longer the same. Hold some water, pour it on my mother's hand, and watch the water flow slowly through every striped road. This is the mark left by years, in order to let me experience my mother's love and warmth for me for so many years. Four eyes are opposite, and a thousand words are pouring into my heart, but I can only silently soak the corners of my eyes and say in a very low voice, "Mom, thank you." Then I thought to myself: I will take care of you, repay you and thank you in the future. The waves in her eyes and the gratified smile on her face reveal: Good boy, sensible, you are the pride of your mother. It is said that mother and daughter are connected to each other, and indeed, she knows everything I think, and I really feel everything she thinks.

I gradually understood the mother's hand described by Qi Jun: When I was sick, my mother rubbed my burning forehead and massaged my sore limbs, and I kept holding her hand in my dreams-those rough and gentle hands! The hands of all mothers in the world are like this, and the hearts of all mothers are the same. They swallow all the bitter water in their stomachs, but show off that they are fully supported by happiness.

Life is like a flowing river, with flowers full of filial piety on the shore, so the memory is full of fragrance everywhere. Busy, we know that the days will leave, but mom is still there. No matter how far you go, there is always a kite-like thread in your mother's hand. The other end of the thread is connected with your children's hearts, always warning us that "parents are there, and you must travel well if you don't travel far." Composition My Thanksgiving Story 2

Dear teachers and students:

Good morning, everyone. Today, the topic of my speech is "Love May, Thanksgiving Mother".

when we get out of bed in a hurry in the morning, who has cooked a delicious breakfast for us? When we hurried out of the house with our schoolbags on our backs, whose figure lingered at the window and looked around? When we got home from school, who had already cooked the meal for us? When we were doing our homework under the lamp, who quietly put a glass of milk on the corner of the table? Who has done so much for us without asking for anything in return? It's mom.

since childhood, my mother has always been the closest and favorite person around us, asking questions and being warm. When we can't express ourselves clearly, my mother takes pains to teach us to learn English. When we have no ability to protect ourselves, my mother has no hesitation in sheltering us from the wind and rain with her broad and selfless love; When we thought we had grown up to get rid of her shelter, my mother watched us silently without worry; When we are happy, my mother smiles at us with bright eyes; When we were sad, my mother patiently enlightened us that our mother had done too much for us, but she never asked for anything in return. What a broad and selfless love it is!

Motherly love is a ray of sunshine, which makes your heart feel warm as spring even in cold winter. Motherly love is a clear spring, which makes your feelings clear even if covered with the dust of years; Motherly love is a tree. In the cycle of seasons, it stubbornly sticks to its homeland, supports a tree and gives it silently. Motherly love is pure, always comes quietly when you meet the storm, giving comfort and strength; Motherly love is selfless, she will always cover you and accompany you all your life.

but what have we done for our mother? Do we just

accept my mother's free love with a clear conscience? Shouldn't we do something to make mom happy and proud?

Mom doesn't want gorgeous and expensive jewelry or expensive gifts. The best gift for her is ourselves. Perhaps just yesterday, a carnation with budding leaves, a clean and tidy tablecloth, a pure and innocent smile, beat her back, talk, a cup of hot tea handed by her children after work, the good performance of her children at school, and the children's pursuit of enterprising learning status, so that she can let her mother. Because-children grow up and know how to love their mothers.

Yesterday was the second Sunday in May, the beautiful Mother's Day. However, for every child who loves his mother, every day is Mother's Day. Let's hug his mother with the gentlest mood and tell her, "Mom, I love you!" "

Finally, I wish all mothers in the world peace, happiness, health and longevity! Composition My Thanksgiving Story 3

Afternoon is like a sticky candy, which is stretched infinitely by the tough but bright sunshine like a filament. I hold a pair of warm hands, and the road under my feet seems endless, spreading to the edge of the world. A reassuring silence and a slight pulse, like a clever note jumping in the blood. I look at your familiar side face, and my heart is gently flowing with tenderness. Another year of reincarnation.

spring. I don't like this dry season very much, because every time it comes, the flu will haunt me, dragging people to sleep, and it will take months to get well. Maybe I was scared by my painful childhood. You are always particularly nervous about this common ailment. It's getting late. I got up to go to school, but you don't know what you're busy with, and you won't leave. I was a little annoyed and leaned forward to rush you, but you asked me to wait in a warm voice. I watched unknown so carefully as you pulled out a board of medicine from the paper box and cut it carefully with scissors, with four pills each, which is exactly the amount I want to eat every time. With the crisp click, you seem to complain: "I don't know you as a child yet, and I am most afraid of trouble." There are many things at school, so you must be too lazy to take medicine. Those copies are brought with you and are convenient to eat. " As he spoke, he smoothed the sharp edges and corners. I took the medicine, as if I had received a delicate and mellow mind. Whenever I touched it unintentionally, it was like a bunch of small flames, burning my heart very hot.

summer. The summer heat is fiercer than the tiger, which robbed me of my appetite. You watched me pick and choose, but refused to take the chopsticks. You only made negative comments on the food, and you were anxious. You tried your best to collect the ingredients for me to eat. God helps those who help me. I fell in love with your mung bean soup, and then I kept a bowl of green sugar water on the table. Mung beans and rock sugar are cooked together, prompting a kind of cool sweetness. When I sip, your focused side face appears in front of me, and your gentle eyes cast a blistering effect, just like deep love in cooking. I watched the clear soup turn dark red. Does it last as long as your love?

autumn. When I got home, I accidentally found a handful of leaves on the balcony. The golden ginkgo leaves are like handfuls of exquisite folding fans, and the fine lines contain the feelings of wanting to talk and rest. I often talk about its beauty until you interrupt me. I know that this little surprise must be your mind. I put my arms around you with a leaf: "Where did you pick it up? Take me with you! " You are rarely naughty: "I won't tell you!" The smile in my eyes is hidden deep and warm into my heart.

winter. At dusk, I woke up from my nap and saw you sitting by the bed, looking through a cookbook. I don't know why I closed my eyes again, but I felt peaceful. A faint sense of happiness is like an ethereal cloud, too light to hold a wisp; But like the air around, it really fills every corner. I really want to be with you all the time

I never say I love you, and the promise I keep on my lips is too frivolous, so it's better to engrave it in my heart. I believe that love and being loved have mutual induction, right, mom? You can hear, hear this simple secret, and hear my unspoken gratitude and attachment.

We can go ahead and quietly annihilate the barriers of the years; We can help each other and turn the torrent of time into dust. Who will spend the time in Jinse? Only you and me are enough.

Dimfragrance floats, and it is near dusk. I smiled and looked at my handshake, secretly wishing: Never say goodbye, never say goodbye. Composition My Thanksgiving Story 4

The best filial piety lies in the present. -Inscription

My family is a very traditional family, full of simple and beautiful atmosphere all day long. A careful father, a hard-working mother and a student at school form such a warm family of three. My mother works tirelessly and does housework all day. In her spare time, besides caring about my study, she just takes care of her flowers and plants. Home and work, two points and one line, are maintained by the silk thread of love in the middle.

Sharing filial piety once

When I came home from a big holiday, I took a big bag of snacks and prepared to stay up all night. As soon as I threw it on the bed, I heard my mother's reproachful voice: "Don't eat so many snacks at night. I think you are going to be a chubby little pig!" I don't think so. I opened a pack of chocolates and sent them to my mouth. My mother, who was mopping the floor, shook her head and smiled, and let my temper go. I ate snacks and looked at the back of my mother mopping the floor: she may be a little tired, and the mop in her hand stumbled on the ground. Don't drag it out in a corner. The speed of mopping the floor has also slowed down, not as crisp and agile as just now. With a turn, I saw fine sweat on my mother's forehead. When I saw this, I quickly called my mother to rest: "Mom, don't put it off. I'll come later. You are so tired that you are sweating."

mom sits next to me and has a rest. I seem to feel that slight breath contains the heat for family hard work. Tear open a pack of snacks and hand it to mom: "mom, try this, it's delicious!" " Mother instinctively refused: "Mom doesn't like to eat these things, you can eat them yourself." Traditional family values make her reluctant to "take what I love", always want me to eat more, and make her unable to let go of her parents' identity, embarrassed to eat "small snacks" that these children only eat. I pretend to be angry: "I can't finish eating so many snacks. I can lose weight if you eat some. Try it first before you like it." Mom reluctantly took it, tasted it and smiled: "It's quite delicious." I am happy: "Eat more when it tastes good, and buy it back every day." Feel the fragrance of delicious food overflowing in your mouth, crunchy potato chips chewed in your mouth, sweet candy melted on the tip of your tongue, and the happiness of fragrant fruit milk flowing in your throat ... Half an afternoon, slowly spent in the long sharing. Feeling my mother's warm and simple happiness, my heart seems to be enriched a lot.

an outing and a song

after a simple spring rain, my mother and I decided to go for an outing. I was going to go to Ai Shan by car, but my mother and I decided to get off the bus halfway to experience the feeling of walking through the country road. We are carrying a lot of food, and as soon as we walk up, the bulging bag in our hands is particularly heavy. I didn't feel how difficult it was at first, but I slowly felt hard when I walked all the way. The footsteps began to be heavy and crooked, and people seemed to lose their balance. Looking at my mother again, this is a weak woman with little strength. Coupled with her age, her physical strength is exhausted and her sweat keeps rolling down. Breathing is also constantly falling together, rapid and chaotic. Walking silently "struggling" forward, I felt very heavy, and the fun of the original outing suddenly vanished.

I quickly grabbed my mother's bag and let her have a rest. Mother couldn't bear to let me carry too much, and insisted on doing it herself. I shook my head indifferently: "No, man, I have great strength!" " Mom smiled and said, "That's no good. You are still a child. I don't want to tire you out!" " I had a brainwave: "Mom, I'll sing for you! Singing and singing, relaxing your muscles and bones will have strength! " Melodious songs resounded in the mountain path, echoing in the heart valley, conveying family affection one after another. The song flies, as if it is a touch of spring green, dizzy in a refreshing moment. Along the way, the big bag was rotated in the hands of my mother and me, but I didn't feel too heavy. The comfortable smile bloomed on our faces and turned into a force to resist fatigue.

A kind of care and a kind of love

The lights are on, and the night at 1 o'clock in the evening is cold, lonely and beautiful. Facing this night, I came home from school. The home is quiet, revealing the unique silence of the night. You don't need to listen to the thin snoring. It's the sweet drowsiness from your parents' bedroom. I looked at my parents' bedroom, thinking that it would be a good dream again tonight. However, at such a glance, I saw that the bedroom door was not closed properly, leaving a thin seam. The cold is eroding their dreams through the cracks. Suddenly feel a little cold. I thought that it was late at night, and the warm air during the day also cooled down. My parents were older and their bones were not as resistant to tossing as they were when they were young, which made them catch a cold for three days and five days. So, I walked to their bedroom door gently and twisted the door nose carefully, for fear of making a noise to wake their dreams. Stand on tiptoe and close the door slowly, even breathing is gentle and soft, blending with the night.

I went back to my room quietly and smiled with relief. Although this concern is small, it is so practical and reassuring. This is a simple family, with simple love and simple affection.

A little affection for all of my heart

Ordinary families have ordinary happiness, and simple affection breeds simple filial piety. This is not a vigorous slogan, let alone an armchair sermon. Filial piety and love are inseparable. Every minute of filial piety now reduces one minute of regret for the future.

at this flower-like age, our filial piety is just the most wonderful and pure, without any material fetters, without any worries about looking ahead and looking back, not to mention fame and gain, and love is the only reason. When many people grow up and lose their loved ones, they know the sadness of "children want to raise but don't stay with their relatives" in the tragic cry of tears, but they forget how they didn't cherish the opportunity of filial piety again and again and let it pass in front of them.

the best filial piety, reason.