Homework help came home from school today. Every time he passes the market, people are very crowded. Cars are coming and going, and occasionally blocking the road will make people more annoyed. But today, the situation is a little different ... it's the familiar road again, and there are many people today. This road is also very narrow and crowded, as if everyone guessed the street stall next to it. Look ahead, there is one.
I saw a big truck in front, dominating the middle of the road, and the people behind were sucking the tail gas of the truck, but a person's face didn't see the past irritability, but there was a very respectful modality.
I wonder, "What is this?" So I'm going to the front to have a look.
I saw an old man in front, wearing a white vest and leaning on crutches, stumbling step by step. He seems to be crossing the road, so thin that he seems to fall at the touch. Seeing this, I understood that it was the old man who was about to cross the road when a truck came across. Although the old man walked in the middle of the road, he walked too slowly. The truck driver showed no impatience. Instead of honking his horn, he stopped the car and waited quietly for the old man to pass by. Passers-by who followed saw it and waited for him.
The old man was sorry to see that he had delayed everyone because of himself. He deliberately quickened his pace, and when he reached the other side of the road, the vehicles and pedestrians slowly left. The old man was panting, but no one complained.
This scene, along the way, makes my heart warm and the world warmer.
The warmest scene at home The warmest scene at home is the cruel winter, which exudes cold.
I put on a thick coat to help my mother wash the dishes.
"Wow-"There is smoking water coming out of the tap.
Looked at it, countless bowls.
Pile up in the cold, silently.
They huddled together as if they were warming each other.
I crustily skin of head stretched out my trembling hand and slowly lifted a bowl.
How dirty! The bowl is covered with stains and greasy.
Summon up the courage to put your hand into the water.
I can't help shivering. After all, I couldn't delay, so I reluctantly put the bowl into the water.
The water splashed into the greasy bowl and bounced back to my chest, all wet.
I feel sick, because the oil stains fell on my clothes, leaving traces, and a large piece of oil stains suddenly appeared on my white clothes.
My hands are greasy, too I can't even hold the bowl.
I can't help it
My hands are frozen stiff.
A delicate big shot with several colored stripes was smashed by me.
The heavy blow broke my heart.
I stood there motionless, and suddenly I remembered my mother's criticism.
Finally, the light and heavy footsteps jumped into my ears.
My mother was surprised to see the debris on the ground and burst out of her mouth: "Is my hand okay?" Suddenly, my heart warmed up.
There is a trace of sweetness in my heart.
Mother cleaned up the clutter on the ground and took out a red glove from the cupboard: "Silly child, do you need gloves?" Don't freeze in such a cold day.
"When I heard my mother's comfort, I seemed full of energy.
Whenever I encounter difficulties or grievances outside, I will wash those indifferent guys in one breath; It was my parents who helped me.
The same is true at home, and the warm atmosphere suddenly swings away.
...
A warm scene at home. The cruel winter of 400-word primary school exudes a chill.
I put on a thick coat to help my mother wash the dishes.
"Wow-"There is smoking water coming out of the tap.
Looked at it, countless bowls.
Pile up in the cold, silently.
They huddled together as if they were warming each other.
I crustily skin of head stretched out my trembling hand and slowly lifted a bowl.
How dirty! The bowl is covered with stains and greasy.
Summon up the courage to put your hand into the water.
I can't help shivering. After all, I couldn't delay, so I reluctantly put the bowl into the water.
The water splashed into the greasy bowl and bounced back to my chest, all wet.
I feel sick, because the oil stains fell on my clothes, leaving traces, and a large piece of oil stains suddenly appeared on my white clothes.
My hands are greasy, too I can't even hold the bowl.
I can't help it
My hands are frozen stiff.
A delicate big shot with several colored stripes was smashed by me.
The heavy blow broke my heart.
I stood there motionless, and suddenly I remembered my mother's criticism.
Finally, the light and heavy footsteps jumped into my ears.
My mother was surprised to see the debris on the ground and burst out of her mouth: "Is my hand okay?" Suddenly, my heart warmed up.
There is a trace of sweetness in my heart.
Mother cleaned up the clutter on the ground and took out a red glove from the cupboard: "Silly child, do you need gloves?" Don't freeze in such a cold day.
"When I heard my mother's comfort, I seemed full of energy.
Whenever I encounter difficulties or grievances outside, I will wash those indifferent guys in one breath; It was my parents who helped me.
The same is true at home, and the atmosphere suddenly becomes warm.
Warm scene composition 400 words, thank you for reading. I heard that The Complete Works of Charles IX was put in the book corner of my class, so I kept borrowing it. This book is fascinating to read, but unconsciously, I also fell into the whirlpool of "ghost stories". After reading the whole book, I found that I was in a cold sweat, and then I thought I would spend a dark night in my cold little bed. I can't help but "head. Although I know that the request is unreasonable, my mother has just broken a bone, and I am not honest when I sleep. In case I kick my mother … I have thought about these things. When I told my mother the reason, something unexpected happened ―― my mother actually agreed to my request! In the evening, I put on my pajamas, got into the warm bed and gently stroked my mother's big feet with my little feet. Just as I was going to sleep peacefully, my father came. He sits in front of the computer and plays games. Soft lighting, two people on the bed playing games with their father, constitute a harmonious picture. Oh, when have you ever seen such a scene? It seems a few years ago-I'm not very independent. It is often when other children can tie their braids shiny that I start to tie my braids crooked. Other children have been driving bicycles for two or three years. I was still learning to wrestle on the way to riding a bike, and I started to learn to boil eggs because others could cook simple meals ... at that time, I was still sleeping with my mother. My father is usually a night owl. When we were in bed, my father was playing computer. This is a happy moment for our family to live together. Although we are silent, it seems that the air is happy ... "The Complete Works of Charles IX" made me find the happiness I lost in my childhood. Maybe a few years later, I am sleeping peacefully in my own bed, but I can't forget the scene: my mother is lying on her side playing with her mobile phone, I am sleeping sweetly in his arms, my father is playing with the computer, and I talk to my mother from time to time. ......
A little thing that warms my heart: composition 100 One noon, my grandfather and I were the only ones at home. Grandma went to the vegetable market to buy food, and both mom and dad went to work. Now my house is as empty as a pumpkin without pumpkin seeds. My grandfather and I are going to clean the house together because we are bored. I found there were few eggs in the kitchen refrigerator. I ran downstairs to the supermarket to buy eggs. Although there is everything in the supermarket, the price is too expensive. I took the bag and packed the eggs carefully, praying in my heart that there must be no mistakes. But instead, when I took the last egg, I was probably relieved. When I relaxed, my hand slipped and my egg hit another egg like a boulder, the first time. Eggs wronged, I also wronged. I feel unlucky, so I have to lose money. So I ran over and asked the aunt of the clerk how much an egg was. She said, "An egg costs about 50 cents." I felt a sort of surge of relief. Fortunately, I paid the original price of the egg, and there was fifty cents left. It's really unfortunate. If an egg costs one yuan, then I will feel doubly sad. I just lost 50 cents. When I got home, grandpa asked me why I came back so late. I told him about it. He said, "You are so honest. If you were someone else, you might even call yourself a thief. " I'm thinking: if I hadn't lost that fifty cents, I might still be upset and ashamed. Now I think: why, fifty cents can do it? At least I think so. This incident made me understand a lot of truth, which I will never forget. ....
The scene warmed my heart. What exists in my memory is a seemingly indifferent figure.
-Inscription In recent years, I have only seen you a few times, and I may have forgotten a lot of my words, but your back warms my sight.
I still remember that summer vacation, I made an appointment with my friends to travel together.
My mother strongly opposed it and wouldn't let me go, but I was stubborn and decided to stay with my friends.
It rained heavily before we set out.
I went shopping with my father, walked past the goods on the shelves, and inadvertently caught a glimpse of my father's back.
My father's back looks so old in the light, and his body is not as tall and straight as before.
There are more and more silver lines on the head, which are not as black as before.
Somehow, tears can't stop falling.
I quickly wiped it in case you saw it.
You turn around and ask, "Are you ready to go?" I nodded.
After leaving the supermarket, I looked at my watch, and I was leaving in two hours.
Sitting in the car, you didn't say anything, just sat quietly.
After arriving at the train station, my friend came up to me, and my father said to me, "Give me your friend's mobile phone number so that we can get in touch."
"At that time, I felt that you were long-winded. As my father, you have never wriggled in front of me like this.
My friends and I are in the same row, walking behind my father.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the train will come in soon. Please take your carry-on luggage.
"My friend and I walked to the wicket.
Dad suddenly stopped me: "Ying, you take these snacks first, and I'll buy some more. Wait for me and come back soon! " "I quickly stopped my father and said," No! Dad! I really don't need it! It's all in the car, and we have it ourselves.
I really don't need it! ""No, it's too expensive on the bus. Wait here for a while. I'll be right there! " Say that finish, you turn and run to the store.
I just stood there, looking at my father's drifting back, my eyes couldn't help but get wet, but I just insisted on not letting tears fall.
I slowly dragged my luggage and looked up at the sky from time to time, just to prevent tears from flowing down, for nothing but your back.
When you came in a hurry, it was only five minutes, but you were out of breath with a big bag of snacks in your hand.
You wipe your sweat, put a satisfied smile on your face and say, "The bus is leaving. I'll go first. Call me when you arrive and let me know that you are safe, ok? " I nodded.
When the train started, my father's back became smaller and smaller until he disappeared.
Eating the snacks my father bought, I felt sad and tears fell unconsciously. I didn't cry because I remember you saying to me, "Don't cry easily!" " "But how can I stand it! When I arrived at my destination, I was never excited when I came. Whenever I recall it in the dead of night, I can't help thinking of my father's back and crying silently.
That warm back appears in my mind from time to time.
What I miss most is your back.
I want to remember it forever.
...
How did the composition of the warm scene begin? That scene made my blood boil. I remember reading an essay on life many years ago, saying that at a crossroads in a city, a traffic policeman who was busy directing vehicles saw a crying little girl sitting in the back seat of her mother's bicycle and suddenly made an extremely exaggerated face at her. When the little girl saw it, she burst into tears immediately. She patted her mother on the back with her little hand happily and left "tinkling". This is the smallest of many trivial details in the street. But it is such a scene that has warmed me for many years. A scene that warms people in life is playing its legend every day. It may be the delicate bird that passed by the window in the morning, or it may be the yellowed picture book that has been sleeping in the bookcase for many years. Inadvertently opened, it evokes childhood memories, or it may be a long-lost light rain that falls when the earth needs it most. Maybe it's the workmates smiling at the clear sunshine after repairing the equipment, maybe it's an old song that can't be older, or even the bunch of yellow flowers on a century-old jujube tree that exudes a faint fragrance in June ... There will always be such a scene in my life inadvertently, just like the scene I saw when I was walking that night. A couple, to be exact, a middle-aged couple, the husband is riding a tricycle leisurely, and his body is swaying like rowing. His wife is sitting in the back, with a laundry list next to her, which contains all kinds of vegetables. It can be seen that this is a pair of vendors who have just returned from the vegetable market. His wife is holding a paper bag the size of a handbag, which contains her temporary food to satisfy her hunger. She took a bite, then leaned over and put a piece in her mouth. The couple happily drove through the city at night and ran to their nest. This scene touched my heart. I like these trivial scenes full of fireworks. Back to my humble room, I decided to weave the picture presented to me by the couple with words, because my taste buds smelled the pure taste of life and felt the warmth like the palm of my hand. Just like this, there is always a real feeling under our feet. Walking on the road of life will not be desert-like loneliness. In fact, our daily life is like a one-act play. Once the sun opens the curtain for it, it will continue until the full moon is finished. Limited to this, I often think that even if we are not the protagonists on the stage, we might as well be an audience all the time. Just like that one-act play, if you encounter a warm scene, please don't treat it numbly, just engrave it in your heart. Perhaps in the later years of thorns, it will make you strong overnight, or set a law to make you kind to yourself and the people around you, encourage you to set sail again, let the warmth accompany your journey, or feel more sweetness when you taste the ups and downs of life.
That scene warmed my heart and the scene of my composition. I remember reading an essay about life many years ago, saying that at a crossroads in a city, a traffic policeman who was busy directing vehicles saw a crying little girl sitting in the back seat of her mother's bicycle and suddenly made an exaggerated face at her. When the little girl saw it, she burst into tears and smiled at once. I happily patted my mother's back with my little hand and walked all the way. This is the smallest scene among too many trivial details in the street, but it is such a scene that has warmed me for many years. A warm scene in life is playing its legend every day. It may be the delicate bird that passed by the window in the morning, or it may be the yellowed picture book that has been sleeping in the bookcase for many years and inadvertently opened it to evoke childhood memories. Perhaps it was a long-lost light rain that fell when the earth needed it most. Perhaps a worker with oil stains on his face after repairing the equipment smiled at the clear voice of the sun. Maybe it's an old song that can't be older, or even the bunch of yellow flowers on the century-old jujube tree with a faint fragrance in June at the door ... There are always such scenes, and one of them will stay in life inadvertently. Just like the scene I saw walking that night, a couple, to be exact, a middle-aged couple, leisurely riding a tricycle, swaying like rowing, and his wife sitting behind him, holding a laundry list of vegetables, could see that this was a couple of vendors who had just returned from the vegetable market. His wife is carrying a paper bag the size of a handbag. I leaned down and put a piece in my husband's mouth. At this moment, I don't know what he said and made my wife laugh. As a result, the couple happily drove through the city under the night and ran to their nest. This scene touched my heart. I like these trivial secular scenes. Back to the humble room, I decided to weave the picture of the couple in front of me with words. Because my taste buds smell the pure taste of life from this seemingly unremarkable scene and feel the warmth like palms, and because of this, there is always a real feeling under my feet, and walking on the road of life will not be desert-like loneliness. In fact, our daily life is like a one-act play. Once the sun opens the curtain for it, it will continue until the full moon is finished. I often think that even if we are not the leading role on the stage, we might as well be an audience all the time, because our days are just like that one-act play. If you encounter a warm scene, please don't be numb, just engrave it in your heart. Maybe in the years full of thorns, it will make you strong overnight, or set a path for you to be kind to yourself and the people around you. And encourage you to set sail again, let warmth accompany your journey, or when you taste the ups and downs of life, you will always feel sweeter. As for bitterness, that is not a problem. More warmth in life will lead to more harmony in society, which is exactly what people expect. Hope to adopt. Thank you.
Teachers are like spring breeze, blowing us new ideas and vitality; Teachers give us knowledge and truth like the warm wind in summer; Teachers look at our mistakes and shortcomings, like the cool breeze in autumn; Always like the cold wind in winter, it ruthlessly blows away our miscellaneous awnings and stains.
I love my teachers because they contribute silently 365 days a year.
My favorite teacher is Miss Wang.
She has long hair and bright eyes.
Mr. Wang has taught us Chinese since the first day of junior high school. She teaches us to read and write compositions ... We are delicate flowers, teachers are gardeners, and we grow up under the cultivation of gardeners. We are fish, teachers are seawater, and we swim freely in the vast sea.
I like Miss Wang's teaching methods, her unique opinions, her strict and loving attitude and her seriousness in her work.
She talks to her classmates with a bright smile every day. Although she criticized her classmates for being very strict, she has a very good temper.
She is very serious about her homework, and she is strict about quality and writing.
In terms of quality, she forbade us to have typos. In writing, she asked us to write neatly.
I know the teacher is trying to make sure that we don't make mistakes in the exam and that the papers are clean so as not to deduct points.
Teacher Wang also taught us how to summarize paragraphs, how to understand words and phrases, and how to read Tang poetry and Song poetry.
When we don't understand, the teacher explains it to us clearly.
How responsible Mr. Wang is.
Sometimes she tells us ancient stories, and everyone listens with relish.
That story is like a hearty dinner, and bit by bit becomes the nutrition for our healthy growth.
Teacher, you are a small lamp in the dark, illuminating our hearts, driving away the darkness and bringing us hope and strength; Teacher, you are a big ship in the sea, taking us swimming in the ocean of knowledge and teaching us the skills of survival; Teacher, you are a stone on the road, quietly paving the runway of history ... Teacher, your love is as warm as the sun, as warm as the spring breeze, as sweet as a clear spring.
Your love is more severe than father's love, more delicate than maternal love, and purer than friendship.
Your love is the greatest, the most selfless and the most sacred.
I remember at that time, I was not confident.
Although I have great advantages in writing, I never thought about taking part in an essay contest at school.
It was Miss Wang who gave me great encouragement and patiently enlightened me.
Gradually, I have the confidence to win and want to repay my teacher's efforts.
Finally, I succeeded, and I stood on the podium symbolizing glory.
I saw it, and the teacher smiled with relief and happiness.
It was the teacher who gave me this confidence, and I love my teacher even more.
Flowers should thank the sun, because the sun feeds them to grow; Flowers should thank the rain and dew, because the rain and dew moistened its growth; The goshawk should thank the sky, because the sky makes it fly; The mountain should thank the earth, because the earth makes it lofty; The earth wants to thank the grass, because the grass makes it beautiful … I want to thank my teacher, who taught me knowledge and made me grow up healthily.
I love you, teacher!
Please indicate the source? A warm-hearted scene in the family, about 600 words.