Recalling the composition of Grade Three 1 Everyone has a colorful childhood. Childhood is like a colorful painting, fascinating and unforgettable.
In the bubble of my memory, I liked going to the park best when I was a child. Wear beautiful clothes and follow my parents to the park. I will say hello to the idle fish by the river to see if they have grown up. I will dance on the lawn to attract people to stop and watch. Tired of jumping, I will sit on the lawn and have a rest, quietly listening to the birds singing happily on the branches, and the crows come and go like a fresh symphony penetrating my heart. I will go to see the delicate magnolia again and smell its elegant fragrance, which makes me relaxed and happy. Lying on the lawn, I will see the blue sky, and several white clouds float on it like thin cotton wool. I feel happy like a little princess.
I like flying kites. Flying in the wide square with a long kite, the kite slowly lifted off in my hand and rose higher and higher. Kite is so happy. It can see so many places and things in the sky. I envy it. It is because of kites that I have been looking forward to flying in the sky one day and enjoying the feeling of overlooking the earth since I was a child.
I also like flying butterflies. Among flowers, butterflies like to stay on bright petals. I'll get closer, left and right. Although I seldom catch butterflies, I will still run around to catch that beautiful butterfly, just like a happy little rabbit.
Everything is changing, just like unpredictable weather. Time will not go backwards, we can only move forward, not go back to the past, and happy childhood can only be recalled. ...
Recalling that there are still 78 days before the senior high school entrance examination, my mood is indifferent. Although I hope to do well in the exam, in my opinion, when I am about to graduate from junior high school, I will open the books of these three years and sort out my gains and opinions.
Our class can be said to be the best or the worst. I used to value class honor and collective honor, and I was disappointed again and again. For a time, our class even made teachers feel scared, which hit me hard! In the end, I was indifferent. I can't change anything with my weak ability, but I can only lament alone like the ancients. What's the use of lamenting? In fact, this is also quite good. Everyone in our class is alive, real and real. In this way, I learned to look at the problem from another angle.
My friend can be said to be a good friend or a bad friend. Lao Zhang and I have been friends for three years. Every time my mind is like a wild horse, being with him always calms me down. Talking with him made me understand the warmth and coldness of human feelings early, and also opened many problems. But some things, I don't know the answer is the best, I have no enthusiasm, I don't want to struggle, and negative emotions have spread all over my body and mind. The most important thing to make friends with Lao Cao is to learn to be patient. How many people can stand asking questions or talking to others without answering a word or looking at it, and how many people can stand walking all the way without saying a word. Following Lao Cao, I talked less, became concise, and learned not to do unnecessary things. But I became cold and anxious. I turned into a wild animal, and I could roar at the top of the hill at any time, or find vent in the fight. But I didn't. I learned to tolerate the bad character of my classmates and the mistakes of others.
Maybe in this tense period, what I do is crazy. But I think no matter how many books there are without a correct attitude and a good learning mood, it is useless. These wonderful memories and expensive experiences are far better than sitting at a desk all day reviewing. ...
I am used to nostalgia because I can't see the future.
I still remember that although I was hated by one person and had only a few friends, I loved myself very much, took everything seriously, understood the difficulties at home and made positive progress every day. At that time, the days were monotonous, and the only gains were awards and certificates. It seems that I didn't put my mind on friendship at all and alienated everyone. And people who hate me always play tricks on me and sow discord every day, and there is nothing I can do. The idea at that time was simple. I just want to get rid of that person in class, get a good grade and let my parents pay attention to me for a while. I never knew what hate was at that time.
I still remember being hated by that man later. I have two close friends, most of whom are my friends. It's not good, but it's not annoying. My mind began to wander in class, but my biased teacher repeatedly asked me to answer questions, and I always got the right answer quickly. So, smug, I simply threw myself into the fun. The days are still monotonous. It has become my life to avoid the sneak attack of boys and the language attack of girls every day, being late, skipping classes, doodling and playing games. But I can still receive an excellent report card. My parents, who are far away from home, always call to ask about their grades after the exam, and seldom talk about anything else, so my Excellence can always cover up my rebellion. At that time, I never thought about what the future was like.
I still remember that later, I was still hated by that person because my study was far away from me. At first, I laughed loudly with those classmates, but I always looked at my good friend absently. I never saw anyone again. I am still rebellious. With my own heart, sometimes I will run out on a whim in the self-study class, or doodle, or pick flowers, or bow my head in a daze. The teacher talked to me many times, but in the end, I always felt sorry for my amazing achievements. I often go to school alone on a path wet with dew, and my heart is very scared, but my face is expressionless. I often stay alone in the classroom after school and stare deeply at this familiar space. I often walk alone after school, watching groups of students frolicking in front. I am willful, disobedient and stubborn, and I don't look back when I hit the south wall. For these, I am silent except silence. At that time, I didn't love myself, but I was very distressed. I feel sorry for myself who is always lonely, for myself who is lost when I watch my friends having fun, and for myself who wants to go to my dreams. At that time, I never thought about what reality was.
Now, I don't know if I'm still hated by that man. I have many close friends and countless friends. I wander between reality and dreams, and idealism makes me miserable. I can't try any harder. I laugh and play with my friends every day. Every exam is rote learning. I am keen on reading novels and comics and a series of extracurricular books. I love writing, painting and photography, and yearn for the distance. All kinds of unrealistic ideas make me hate studying and this place. As a result, my grades went from ten to ten, then to twenty, and now to thirty. In fact, I also care about my grades. Because of my father's hard work, my mother's white hair is hidden in her hair. However, I have begun to be tired of learning and give up on myself. I can't find the feeling of boiling blood anymore, and I'm not interested. I have a deep understanding and feeling about friendship. Over the years, my popularity has been very good, and I know that many people will gradually hate me. This kind of hatred is different from the hatred that that person had at that time because of jealousy. This is a heartfelt dislike for me. I also know that I am completely different from the original. I am rebellious and proud, and even quarrel with my friends for things on my face. I am stubborn and always suspicious. I am hilarious and playful. I laugh at everyone and hurt some people at the same time. I deeply understand their impatience with me. I'm sad, but I know I deserve it. I began to become silent again, and the circle was deserted because of my few words. They also began to chat with me, but I was no longer as talkative as before, and always ended the topic in a few words. I think, if I am strong, I won't stab them unless I keep my distance from them. I don't love or hurt myself now, but I feel sorry for myself, the one who silently does everything to please others but is unknown, the one who is very tired because of obsessive-compulsive disorder, the one who is not trusted because of playing around on the surface, the one who still looks up at the stars in the dark, the one who never abuses himself because he hates himself, the poor one. At that time, I didn't know what I was at first.
Later, later, I didn't like to talk, but I talked the most every day. I don't like laughing, but I keep laughing. People around me say that my life is so happy, so I think I am really happy. But why am I suddenly silent among a large group of friends? Why am I sad to see a similar figure in the crowd? I forgot to talk when I saw the leaves falling madly in autumn, and I forgot the original direction when I saw the warm yellow light on the road as it was getting late. I have many quirks of my own, but in order to keep normal and conform to the secular vision, I hide them, and therefore, I ruined my talent. Later, when I knew everything, I knew nothing.
Many times, I miss the past, not because it is beautiful, but because I am afraid to forget it, and I have nothing.
Recall the fourth article of the third grade composition "Ah, it smells good!" When I passed the hotpot restaurant, the smell seemed to take you back to your perfect childhood, reminding me of the barbecue in the yard before.
This afternoon, our friends in the yard got together to prepare for the barbecue in the evening. After everyone agrees, they begin to allocate who will bring oil, salt, vinegar, monosodium glutamate and so on. Who brings vegetables, sausages, etc. I brought some flammable materials and lighters.
The long dinner is finally over. It's getting dark. Go downstairs and meet on time. Everyone is almost here. We came to the backyard and set up a shelf with the firewood I brought, with newspapers stuffed under it. Then we washed our hands and strung Chinese cabbage, potatoes, ham and sausages with bamboo. After the fire rose, everyone baked a bunch and waited for a delicious dinner.
In winter, you can brush some oil while baking to keep warm. After a while, Zeng Yanting said, "Oh, my mouth is watering. I will eat this ham sausage first! " Say that finish, she suddenly went in: "Well, it tastes good!" "The boss Chen Ke said," hum, mine is not ripe yet. Maybe mine is more delicious than yours. As he spoke, the bamboo pole "snapped" and the food fell on the kang. Chen Ke paused, swallowed again, and had to bake it again. And mine is ripe, and the bamboo is not broken. I was secretly happy for a long time. As a result, I picked it up and found it was burnt. " Oh, my God! "Partners also smiled for a while.
After many failures, we tasted many delicious foods. Besides, we held hands and danced around the fire. The fire is reflected on our happy faces, shining in our sparkling eyes, which are full of joy.
At this moment, everyone has no time to barbecue for self-study. I don't know when our fragrance will be fragrant. . . .
Recall that the fifth article of the third grade composition is not as free and easy as "two flowers bloom, and the sky is far apart"; Instead of "study hard, don't ask for more understanding, and forget to eat happily every time you know", it is better to be diligent. Not leisurely, not crowded, not stormy, but not ordinary.
Stepping into the campus in September, a ray of bright sunshine sprinkled on the ground, as if softening everything, making people afraid to disturb it easily. Laughter, birds and flowers. Sometimes noisy, sometimes quiet, so beautiful.
At the age of fourteen, we walked around the campus in the morning fog, covered with morning glow, always carrying information in our hands and carrying it on our backs. We no longer appreciate the beautiful scenery of the past and stare at the omnipotent "Xiao Gan" in our hands. Perhaps, the flowers on the roadside are as delicate as in memory; Perhaps the trees outside the window are still green; Maybe the evening is still beautiful, maybe the smile is always bright. Casual attention, attention to the surrounding, attention to those past figures. It's ridiculous to stop and go for three years.
Thirteen-year-old youth, we are a little rebellious, laughing and high-spirited. The waywardness of "Going out laughing, is our generation Artemisia?" is vividly reflected in us. I always feel that I can go against the wind all the way, just like flowers in the desert, surrounded by roaring yellow sand, but I can still stand out from the crowd. At this time is wanton indulgence. Handsome turned to meet the screaming pride on the court; Cheers of fancy lines flying on the runway; Swipe cards smartly in the examination room. That is the youth that can't go back, that is the original glory.
At the age of twelve, we entered the unknown and the spring. The door of junior high school opened to us, fading away from youth and immaturity. An ignorant child put on adult clothes and broke into the small society, some funny, some serious and vivid. I am used to being a "little princess" at home, and I can't do anything. I thought everyone was the same, but I was shocked that I was the only one. "Embarrassment", "unwillingness" and "boredom" are repelled at heart, but they have to face the reality. Really helpless!
In a blink of an eye, "Three Years of Passengers" entered the battlefield today. Facing the upcoming senior high school entrance examination, I can't go back to the youth campus. Three years is coming to an end, so why not?
Looking back on the first flight, I was inevitably nervous and excited on the plane that had not yet left. Although it's two o'clock in the morning, I don't know why, but I'm not sleepy at all. Soon after, the plane moved without warning, rushing faster and faster, leaving the ground and flying into the dark sky. Looking out from the oval double-glazed window, the dense orange lights look spectacular and beautiful, and the cars passing by on the rope-like expressway are as far away as the stars in the dark sky. At this moment, the scene of a distant destination is slowly depicted in my mind. ...
It feels like five minutes and ten hours have passed, and I am slowly descending from tens of thousands of feet in the air. The vast green countryside appeared before my eyes. It's not like a city with many buildings. The color of the houses here looks harmonious and warm, and my impatience is gradually relieved.
After landing, I ran around excitedly, watching everything here over and over again. Although the streets here are long and wide, they are not as crowded as the cities and the countryside is quieter. After playing for a long time, I have forgotten the existence of time and can't bear to go back to my residence to rest.
Everything is so beautiful, no pressure, no homework, no papers, free play, so that the soul can get the greatest satisfaction. On a sunny day, I walked in the big park near my residence, admiring the colorful flowers and watching the people playing by the lake, full of green eyes and a piece of turf covered with sunshine, and I couldn't wait to lie on it and sleep comfortably. Enjoy it. Come here!
I study in a school here. The local students are very warm and friendly. They play and sing together all day, learn all kinds of novel and fun games, and get along better and better with everyone. The course of outdoor teaching is fresh and interesting: let everyone experience the fun of working on the farm, visit the dense forest with huge trees (you can also see bears), and visit the super-large amusement park with a history of 100 years. Everyone plays hard, as if they will regret it for life if they miss it. I cherish every minute spent here and cherish this precious friendship.
We also took a cable car, overlooking the ground from high altitude, and I saw the vast grassland again. The eagle flying in the blue sky is not far from us. I think I am really flying, flying so high and so far. The blue and clear lake is surrounded by green hills, and the unmelted snow covers the bare top of the mountain. This kind of scenery is extremely common here, but for me, it is a paradise.
Climb up the uneven path step by step. As the road under your feet becomes steeper and steeper, the cold wind blowing on your face becomes stronger and stronger, and you will almost lose consciousness because of the cold, just to see the spectacular Columbia ice sheet. After some tossing, the magnificent ice field caught my eye. Tens of millions of glaciers gather here, and the wind from the north is not to be outdone. Nevertheless, the direct sunlight on the ice sheet interweaves into a thrilling scene, which is by no means indescribable, and it is hundreds of times more shocking than I described! The thin glacier water beside me comes from the other side of the mountain, clean and clear, and is dedicated to nature here. The beauty of this ice sheet has fixed my memory in my mind forever.
When I close my eyes, the lights in downtown Canada are still flashing in front of my eyes. It seems particularly long to return from the west to the east. Perhaps I prayed silently, praying that time would not go and that I would not return to my busy life. I landed. I don't know if I am a passer-by or a returnee. The photos taken after that are not as happy as before.
Close the photo album and put my thoughts of Canada on the plane crossing the horizon outside the window. I sincerely hope to see the paradise covered with maple leaves again, put that maple leaf into a thick photo album and lock it in a desk drawer against the wall.
Perhaps it is because of the late autumn that the weather is getting worse and worse. I can't help putting on that fat black dress. I always vaguely feel that the temperature of the air turns into ice from time to time. It's so cold ... when I came back from school, I looked at the leaves of those trees and slowly turned yellow. Rain seems to like autumn very much, and I am always reluctant to part with it. It's raining lightly today ... the feeling of rain always seems to give people a creepy feeling. However, I am not ashamed to love the rain, because it always brings me too many feelings that I can't feel, always snuggling up on the windowsill, and my thoughts are slowly attracted to the past ... The memories of the past are always so fragmentary and small ... which always reminds me.
Rainy day is a season worth thinking about. On rainy nights, I always pick up a book of poetry and read it carefully. I always like to hold a steaming cup of boiling water in my hand and feel the temperature of the boiling water ... If I have any troubles, I always choose to cry to vent, and I watch the autumn rain with tears in my eyes. I feel she is still so desolate and beautiful. Rain seems to be composing a humorous serenade. He is more artistic than Chopin's serenade. The symphony of trees colliding plays a unique song of nature ... Everything in the rain seems to be carefully decorated by God, and the autumn rain seems to be our rainy season, golden yellow, full of passion and challenges for the future. We choose to face everything and look up at the autumn rain outside the window. Doesn't that inspire us? It's dripping, and the smell of dripping in the rain is getting stronger and stronger ... Let me watch the rain in it for a long time.
I always feel that autumn is an elusive season, mixed with the fragrance of cotton and land, as well as mature and yellowing memories ... unconsciously, I began to hate the present. Instead of falling into books and books, I only know how to prepare for the senior high school entrance examination. It is better to make time to smell the autumn. Perhaps this is much better than blindly looking at mathematical physics and stuffing formulas into your mind. ...
Because in such a beautiful season, let go of our complicated tasks and listen to the songs of nature. Of course, now we are just a helpless person. In the final analysis, we just look at the autumn outside the building from a distance. Young people seem to have too much hope. We always feel that we are caged birds that can't see the sky, but we can only look at the deep blue sky hopefully ... the pressure of the senior high school entrance examination. It seems that these make us a little precocious, a bit like autumn ... this season gives people the feeling of harvest and maturity.
I used to try to write under the lamp, but I was always unprepared, and I was taken to the fairyland of dreams by sleepy people ... I woke up and found that I had been lying in my book for a long time ... Then I used to pick up a pen and continue my "battle", always thinking that pressure would generate motivation, but now I find that too much pressure will make people "overwhelmed" and I will always ponder the meaning of the event for a long time. I can't find the meaning of time to us ... it's inappropriate to say: it's the feeling that fish need water ... and it slips from fingers inadvertently. He won't just wait in the same place, waiting for you to pursue possession ... The voice of autumn tells us that there is still one year of struggle ... The alarm bell rings in my heart ... I dare not relax easily, so the autumn season comes ... completely different from the past.
Like a maple leaf belonging to autumn, it is engraved in my mind and cannot be erased for a long time. ...
The warmest memory is the journey with you.
-inscription
I sat quietly in the shade, watching the petals of Sophora japonica fall with the wind, and my thoughts were pulled back to the past.
"Grandma, I'm back." Far away, I saw you leaning on the threshold waiting for me to go home, like an old and weak tree in the wind. I shouted, you heard me, smiled and said to me, "Ginny is back." At this time, I took your arm and began to talk about what happened at school today with great interest. You always let me do my homework first, so we went to the locust tree together.
At that time, I hated mathematics very much, so I wrote the Arabic numeral strings in a staggered way. You put on your reading glasses and saw the font I climbed like a bug, so you raised a curved crutch to scare me. I was very unconvinced and said that I would let you write one. Trembling, you picked up the tip of the pencil and carefully wrote a "1" in the notebook. I smiled at what you wrote. In a short time, my homework was finished. At this time, the sun played hide-and-seek with me like a naughty child and hid half of his face. You are good at telling stories. I always pester you to tell stories about that poor time. Every time I listen to it with relish, I feel very happy. The world is so quiet, and the elves flying in the air also slow down their dance steps. I also like interesting things that happen at school. You listen to me with great interest. At last, you always say to me earnestly: "Study hard and try to be admitted to Tsinghua Peking University, so that grandma can follow suit." I always have a sweet mouth. I said, "Grandma, when I am admitted to the university, I will definitely buy you a big yard in the city and plant a big pagoda tree so that we can play under it …", and you always smile with relief before sighing lightly.
At that time, I didn't know what that sigh meant, so I continued to describe the scene after I was admitted to the university. The sky is blue, the wind is soft and the air is full of warm atmosphere.
However, in the sunset, under the locust tree, the scene of young and old accompanying each other will always go with the long river of memory. Now, you have gone to that place called Western Paradise. Who do you tell stories to over and over again? Grandma, when I grow up, I understand the meaning of that sigh and study hard, but you are gone, grandma. Are you enjoying yourself there now?
It's another beautiful spring. Sophora japonica blooms, white clouds are still accompanied by blue sky, birds are still accompanied by big trees, but I'm the only one daydreaming under Sophora japonica.
However, with the passage of time, I will cherish that warm memory in my heart and let it inspire me to move forward.
A breeze blew, two lines of clear tears slipped by, and the fragrance of Sophora japonica floated in. ...