About a month ago, my mother took me to the People's Park. I rushed down the high slide. Suddenly, my foot slipped and I was about to hit something hard. I subconsciously blocked it with my right hand. In this way, I hit my right hand and made a "click" at the same time. I thought it was just joint noise, nothing wrong. The next second, I found that I was wrong and my right hand was obviously swollen. Moreover, every time I turn my arm, there will be a terrible pain. I carefully avoided the crowd. Finally, I saw the dawn of hope. I rushed over and leaned against my mother's chest.
My mother gently raised my hand and studied it carefully. My eyes are unstoppable heartache. She asked me to try to turn my arm. After several failures, my mother decisively took me to the hospital for examination and found that it was a fracture. I put a thick plaster on my arm and wrapped it in gauze.
On the way home, I was shocked to see that my mother had more silver hair.
"Go home, treasure 2, hair what leng? Go! " I couldn't help laughing when I looked at my mother's thin but healthy face and her black and white hair.
Walking on the wet road, I held my mother's hand. Her hands are so cold but so warm, so rough and so delicate. This is her, my mother, my beloved mother.
In the long river of time, the past is like smoke, lingering in my heart, cutting constantly, and the reason is still chaotic.
Mom! I am a naughty star, and you are a holy moon. In the night sky of love, there are you and me. ...
Honor is history. But those past events will inspire me to make persistent efforts and create greater glories!