Now the second day, a new starting point, a new beginning, such as a pure white paper waiting for my graffiti, how should I face it? Is it self-indulgent like the first day of junior high school, or is it to create a brand-new self? Either way, I think I chose the latter. Now, I don't think about class anymore, I think about school after class, and I think about holidays after school ...
Yes! Now is the time to work hard. A brand-new plan, a brand-new self and a brand-new goal are the cornerstones of my success. In the past, the gray fog in the pupil had already dispersed, flashing a light that could not be covered up; In the past, the right hand with a weight of one thousand pounds was replayed, and I didn't miss any opportunity to show myself; In the past, the brain wrapped in nine locks also opened the seal with a key of will ...
I believe that my potential is infinite, and my contribution is always in direct proportion to my harvest. If I plant a hard-working seed, it will naturally grow into a towering tree in hope. The joy of harvest always makes us proud, and the fruitful achievements always make us proud. Autumn leaves witness every night I study hard ...
Every time the teacher's approving eyes are an encouragement to me, every time the teacher talks with me earnestly, it is an encouragement to me, and every time the teacher smiles at me with relief, it is an affirmation to me ... Accumulation will always make my wings fuller. Now, it is time to work hard! The steps under my feet will always help me step by step!
Chapter 2: It is another year when the college entrance examination is held, and the atmosphere of the college entrance examination is filled again.
On the 5th, we laughed when arranging tables and chairs in class. This is the last time that we are busy for others. Next year, we will decorate the examination room for ourselves.
"Your only task now is to study, and the goal is the college entrance examination. For this goal, you must do a good job in your grades; You must let go of many things that you think are important. " The teacher warned us again.
Because we are still young and have a lot of youth to squander, we haven't realized the darkness and cruelty of society, and we haven't realized those seemingly fair and unfair. Therefore, in the face of all kinds of students on campus, you don't need to be so sophisticated, you don't need to fight for those unnecessary faces and interests, and you don't need to be troubled by your own life. Whether you are carefree or not, you should also think about your future.
It is said that the second year of high school is the happiest time in the whole high school life, but why do we feel empty and embarrassed? We began to lose an attitude gradually, we began to hesitate in one place, and we lost the courage to move on. We all know that we shouldn't do this. We all know that we should face setbacks calmly and be fearless in the face of difficulties-but it's easier said than done-for example, if you know that there is a manhole without a cover in front of you, will you step in and fall down, then pat your ass bravely and continue to walk forward with a smile?
The emptiness of these days is almost inevitable, and generations have spent this long year. We are afraid to look forward, so we can only stay in place and hesitate or turn around to find the lost beauty. That's not a happy thing. When a person loses hope and expectation, only helplessness and helplessness surround you.
If we go to school the day after tomorrow, we will really become quasi-senior three students. We only have 364 days left. Think that we will also remember our high school life one year later.
Another year of college entrance examination, we firmly wait for the arrival of utopia ...
Article 3: Another year in bloom, I wrote, "Go to Pianshan in winter and enjoy the beautiful scenery, while spring brings birds and flowers." The boundless spring breeze lightly blows away the last chill in winter. It's March, when the sun is shining and the spring is warm in bloom. Melting ice and snow, blooming spring flowers, and colorful spring intertwined with * * * ...
Endless spring, surging spring tide, all urged me to return to my hometown and visit the cherry tree that once shocked my heart. Full of hope, sitting on the train back home, staring at the fleeting scenery outside the window, not only reminds me of the old days.
It was an unfortunate sapling, which was abandoned by the roadside in front of my house because several branches were broken. However, it is also lucky. My grandfather is a grass lover. He is busy with flowers and plants all day. Seeing that this cherry seedling still has the possibility of survival, he planted it in the open space in front of the door. At that time, I was naive and full of doubts. Can this survive?
Indeed, survival is so difficult. The sapling, with only half of its body left, seemed to be weak in breathing for dozens of days. It seems to be crying, wet, it is the tears of the tree, silently, silently. Tree, does it hurt? But there is nothing I can do. But I know that you will never give up, even if there is only a glimmer of hope left.
Yes, you didn't give up. You are still silent, silent. But you always remind yourself that you have to survive. Perhaps, behind this silence, you are just like a budding grass, and you have tried your best to get through five hurdles. Finally, take out the tender yellow branches, sway in the wind and rain, grow in the wind and rain, thrive in the wind and rain, and learn how to be a real tree.
I grew up with you when I was young, and the passage of time gradually made me understand more profound truths. In a blink of an eye, I have entered junior high school, and you are still unfortunate, suffering from pests and diseases all day, so that you can't glow with the most dazzling brilliance in your life.
We are no longer weak flowers, we have experienced wind and rain, we have survived the cool summer and winter, and we have all grown up. You have become so tall and straight, so strong, and I am no longer timid or cowardly. Finally, under all kinds of obstacles, you succeeded, and the pink cherry flowers finally bloomed on your branches. I am also very happy, because I understand a truth that goes deep into my heart: get up after falling, endure pain, swallow grievances, never let tears burst, never let vulnerability get up from the heart, and laugh at life without regrets.
The train finally pulled into the station slowly. Far away, the cherry tree was fluttering in the wind, showing its unique charm. The pink flowers were still the same, not artificial, only fiery life, how touching and beautiful! Another year in bloom ...
Chapter 4: It's another year in bloom, and the back hill of my hometown is red again. I know, it's azaleas. Patches of azaleas, like clouds of burning flames, reflected the mountain red. In this fiery red, I seem to see her running towards me happily again ...
She is like this azalea, warm and pure, reflecting others. Because of her, I have come out of my self-enclosed self who doesn't like communication.
That year, in the same spring, on the mountain full of azaleas, my story with her began. On that day, the classmates spontaneously organized a spring outing. On the mountain, everyone played happily together, and I just sat on a big stone and held a book. I clearly know that my heart is not in the book. That laughter constantly stimulates my eardrums, and I am eager to join them!
"You definitely want to play with your classmates?" At this moment, she sat by my side. I don't know how she read my inner thoughts. Maybe she noticed me for a long time and caught the envy inadvertently revealed in the corner of my eye. "hmm." I nodded and said, "I, I'm worried that they will ignore me ..." She smiled at my words and said, "Look, didn't I ignore you? How do you know they ignore you if you haven't tried? Let's go, don't leave any regrets for yourself! " Her sentence "Don't leave regrets for yourself" touched my heart and I hesitated. Sensing my hesitation again, she continued, "Don't hesitate! Trust me, let's go! "
After that, the process was much smoother than expected, as if I was one of them. She has been holding my hand, and her words are like spring breeze, blowing my uneasy heart. We talked very speculatively. I asked her what flowers she liked best, and she said she liked azaleas. She told me a legend about azaleas: Du Yu, an emperor in ancient Shu, had an unusual love for his queen. Because of being framed by a traitor, he died tragically. His soul turned into a cuckoo, and he crowed in the queen's garden every day. Tears were drops of blood, which dyed the flowers in the garden red. The queen knew that it was her husband's turn, and she died of depression, and her soul turned into a flaming azaleas full of Shan Ye, so azaleas were also called Yingshanhong.
I don't remember what we played that day, except that it was my happiest day. Our bright smile stands out against the azaleas on the mountain. From that day on, I gradually became cheerful. I became close friends with her. Unfortunately, in the second year, she went to other places with her parents, and she couldn't contact again.
Now, the azaleas are blooming all over the mountain again, and the scenery here remains the same, but I will never see her again. I remembered her words again and gradually understood why she likes azaleas. Rhododendron represents the joy of love, and people who like this flower are innocent. It only blooms in its own flower season, always giving people a lively and noisy feeling.
Now, I see azaleas blooming all over the mountain. Are you all right in the distance?
Chapter 5: It's another quiet night when cicadas are singing, sitting at the window, suddenly cicadas are chirping everywhere, and the quiet night is more and more quiet and far-reaching with the breeze. Presumably Xin Qiji's "breeze singing cicadas in the middle of the night" is such a feeling, quiet and melodious. Simply close your eyes and recall those hot summer days and happy times that belong to cicadas.
At that time, I was young and impetuous, and the chirping of cicadas became a kind of noise in my ears. The hotter the day, the more joyful it was, but I will never forget what a pleasure it was to catch cicadas when I was a child.
There are towering trees everywhere in primary schools, and spring and summer are full of shadows. When the summer solstice arrives, cicadas also sneak out of the soil, hiding one after another in every hot summer. After class, I will catch cicadas with my friends. I am responsible for finding cicadas. Those skilled friends each hold a long trunk. As soon as I heard it, I said, "Hey, here's one!" I stared at the cicada lying on the branch and slammed the long trunk in the past. The cicada was covered in the net bucket at the tip of the bamboo pole, and sometimes it didn't fall off. The friends immediately came forward to catch it, and the cicada struggled desperately to scream.
In this way, in the summer of childhood, my ears are always covered with cicadas. At that time, the mind was often filled with a kind of happiness.
Later, when I grew up and had more books at hand, I realized that cicadas had an unusual fate: nine times out of ten, cicadas grew in the soil all their lives. First, the eggs fall into the soil and break out of the shell, then they have been hiding their strength in the soil, feeding themselves well and waiting for the day of change. This waiting moment will take a whole year. Hearing cicadas singing and seeing cicada shadows, it was their last week or even days. Fabres summed up the cicada's life in a succinct sentence: cicada Mu Feng bathed in dew, drank the aura of heaven and earth, absorbed the essence of all kinds of wood, and spent four years dormant, only for a short month of life. I am ashamed to think of my cicada catching behavior at that time.
Year after year. Cicadas, rising and falling, grow up listening to cicadas. Now, the same cicada sound brings you a different feeling.
Some people say that cicadas are the embodiment of tragedy. I don't think so. From the tireless singing of cicadas, all I feel seems to be the happiness of cicadas. "The summer cicadas are exhausted, and the new autumn geese are brought." Summer passed, and the cicadas disappeared one by one. I know that it was cicada who sent away the long hot summer with the swan song of life, and also sent away the "spring" of his own life.
Listen to cicada and realize cicada. Borrow cicada's feelings. If people can fully show the splendor of life, sing the joy of life, like cicadas, I wonder if this is what people often call "Zen realm". Although this cicada is not Zen, it is not easy to achieve the state of persistence, calmness and nobleness of cicada. Sometimes, people may not have the freedom and happiness of cicada singing and the free and easy life. In this sense, maybe people are not as good as cicadas. Feel ashamed.
At night, silence. There is still the sound of cicadas singing from time to time. At this moment, I suddenly understand a truth: everything is complacent when it is quiet.
The invisible cicada sound has clearly penetrated my heart.
Chapter 6: It's another year when the wind blows. All along, I am surrounded by the breeze of love. The breeze is blowing again. I am wearing a sweater knitted by my mother, and the love knitted by her skillful hands is draped over my shoulders. Because of those hands, I am more determined, and I have been bathed in the spring breeze of love.
After finishing the housework, the family got together to watch TV. My mother seemed to be amused by the humorous plot, and giggled with her hands over her mouth. I was staring at my mother's hand, and the smile on my face stopped. Those hands are so rough and have lost their luster. I slightly zheng, the fragmentary fragments jump in my mind ...
It's autumn, and my mother, who has been busy all day, finds adventure and starts knitting sweaters for me.
When the incandescent lamp is on and off, the dim light hits my mother. Her diligent shadow is full of warmth, stitch by stitch, stitch by stitch, and my mother's hand quickly brings a gust of wind. I know that this is full of unspeakable love. Her tattoo says a kind of satisfaction-yes, it will be woven soon.
Mother is like a writer. Wool is her gentle writing, which is full of care. My mother is like a gardener. Wool is her favorite flower, and every stitch is warm. Her rough, cocoon-covered hands stopped, stroking her outstanding achievements, and pressed the acupoints on her hands with thick fingers to have a rest.
"Come on, baby, try to see if it fits. The color of this wool is your favorite!" I happily put it on for my mother to see, and her mother smiled happily. She looked at me with a sticky warmth and kept saying, "Nice! It really looks good! " Wearing a sweater on my body seems to blow a warm breeze on my heart, which is the warm wind of love that makes me deeply intoxicated ...
Suddenly remind of, the sound of TV gradually disappears, and the warm example like breeze in my mind comes back to my mind again.
My mother always cooks a good pot of food for me with her scarred hands, which makes me feel satisfied. On rainy days, my mother holds an umbrella for me with thick hands ... When I think of her tenderness, my eyes can't see clearly. It is this little care that blows a warmth in my heart and brings a fragrance of love.
It's windy again. I won't forget my mother's love again. Thank you for letting me grow up in the minutes of love. Let me bathe in the wind of love and be grateful.
Chapter 7: It is another season when flowers are in full bloom. If this thing smells, it is the fragrance of camphor, sweet and safe, like remembering distinct happiness; Sweet and melancholy, like forgotten sorrow.
-Zhang Ailing
Who is it? In the autumn night in a foreign land, I don't know the fragrance of osmanthus, ignore the mellow wine, and just say a poem with a unique charm in such a paranoid way-the moon is the hometown. Simple, light and shallow, but it tells the truth, involving my feelings with my hometown.
I spent my wonderful childhood in my hometown. At that time, my grandmother liked to hold me under the osmanthus tree in the yard, gently shaking me and singing a beautiful song "Shake, shake to the Waipo Bridge ..." I was so shaken by her that I looked at her with watery eyes and giggled.
When I was in bloom, my grandmother was also the busiest and happy time. The sweet-scented osmanthus in Wan Li can be smelled dozens of miles away, attracting many people to stop and look up. As the autumn wind blows, flowers fall from the trees one after another, spreading the whole yard carefully, like soft cotton wool. Grandma will pick up these osmanthus flowers and make them into sachets. One hung around my neck and the other put in her pocket. She said, "None of us can lose the sachet until next season in bloom. This is our agreement." I said, "Good!" "Hook and hang yourself, and don't change for a hundred years!" ……
Grandma's hand is very clever. The delicious Osmanthus Jelly is my favorite dessert. I sip two faint osmanthus teas from time to time, and my lips are full of sweetness. When grandma is not looking, I will playfully dip my fingers in osmanthus wine. Bitter and sweet, with a hint of osmanthus in the acid. After three transgressions of five times, I was finally found by my grandmother. I was so scared that I ran straight into the yard, trying to climb the osmanthus tree, but I fell down unwillingly, so I was held in my arms by my grandmother and wouldn't let go ...
Day after day, my grandmother and I just sat under the osmanthus tree and witnessed its growth.
I was not lonely when I was with my grandmother, but later, because of my parents' work, I left my hometown and went to a different place. I am lonely in a busy city. I often think of my grandmother and the osmanthus tree in the yard. One day, my mother told me that my grandmother was ill and was admitted to the hospital. I quickly ran to see her.
Pushing open the door of the ward, it was not Foer X-Lin, but a faint sweet-scented osmanthus fragrance. I saw a few sachets on my grandmother's bedside. Grandma told me that it was made in the autumn of these years and has been kept for me. I can't go back on my word when I was a child! I held the sachet and burst into tears-I had forgotten the appointment of hours!
After my grandmother died, I went to see the osmanthus tree again. It became tall. I held it deeply and stuck it to my ear. I wanted to hear the laughter and laughter of my grandmother and me from its thick branches, trying to arouse my childhood memories ...
Those lost times will never come back, never. My grandmother and I seem to be two parallel lines, and there will never be an intersection. We just silently look forward to the day when we overlap.
The moon is the hometown of Ming-that voice has traveled through thousands of years of frost and night, telling my most irrefutable reason. I breathe in gently, and it's another season of flowers.
Chapter 8: It's another year when bloom is warm in spring.
"The winter solstice brings forth the sun and spring comes again".
Having experienced a warm winter with a slight residual cold, I involuntarily thought that the climate would be like this forever. But it happened otherwise, when I arrived in beginning of spring, I felt the warmth of spring. Although sometimes the gently blowing wind is still so hard, the temperature is still so low, the melting ice and snow, the frozen earth, and the sunny and colorful spring ...
My intuition tells me that this is "sound of spring" calling for the earth. Call what? Is it the beginning of life? Maybe it is. Is it the revival of everything? Maybe it is. In a word, all these are the seeds sown by the "God of Spring" after hard work. He is full of good hopes, giving all things on the earth "the power of spring", making the flowers and birds everywhere full of vigor and vitality. And we are also inspired by the "God of Spring", in the spring with long years and heavy memories, we have spent a wonderful moment in spring after spring. Children grow up day by day, young people mature year by year, middle-aged people step by step towards old age, and old people are even more unwilling to die. Because only under the magic wand waved by the "God of Spring" will there be a beautiful and moving "Spring"!
When winter goes and spring comes, the willows spit green, and the warm spring breeze blows the endless wheat fields green and wrinkles the quietly flowing river. Sweet spring rain, as light as spider silk, as thin as a needle tip, as long as a thread, and as dense as a sieve, flies to the earth.
Although the charm of spring is endless, "when flowers bloom, they will definitely fall." As the saying goes, "falling red is not a heartless thing, but turning into spring mud protects flowers more." Probably spring, that is, it maintains its holy "body" in this way, which means living and reproduction. However, who knows, it is in this warm spring year after year in bloom that everyone prepares everything to welcome the next warm spring year in bloom? It turns out that everything in the world is on a long journey in such a big environment. It sounds sad, but it is tragic. Visible, when human beings can really face up to the reality of this day, how will they treat this warm spring in bloom year after year? Is it hi? Is it worry? Is it happiness? Still sad?
Of course, emotions are everyone's unique nature, and it is precisely because of these different personalities that a diverse world is combined and an endless group is divided. We spent year after year in this warm spring in bloom. Similarly, we soaked in Cang Sang year after year in warm spring in bloom, and experienced hardships and twists and turns. As a result, there are four seasons, cold and summer alternate; Even every chapter and section of life. But in any case, we must face up to the reality, that is, another year of spring in bloom has begun ...