Eurotic-Pur
Thema drucken
06.01.2020 09:15
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That laughter reminded me of my flowers, quietly driving for me in every corner of my life ... "A wonderful song floated in the corner of my classmates, and was easily intoxicated. But there is one of the most beautiful in the world The voice of the mother is the call of the mother. It is the season of fragrant flowers, and the acacia tree on campus is in full bloom. The green leaves and white velvet are decorated with pink colors, decorating the campus. Decorated our field of vision. Smell the fragrance of acacia flowers, opened the book, strands of ink fragrance ushered in, intertwined, point to the "albizia tree" article, read the flower-like articles in the season of blooming. Flowers fall from branches, dance in the wind, float towards the teaching building, tap the windowsill and log in to the classroom, dance in the classroom, welcome, soothe a few times on our faces, gently, softly, scattered on the books , Lying next to the title of the title page, it seemed like a side by side. Reading down, I could not help but lost my interest in flower viewing, and began to fall into the deep affection of Shi Tiesheng. His life was already living in an unfortunate encounter, and he Mother Life is worse than him. Fortunately, "God sees that she can't stand it, she called her back." The lines are filled with sadness for the death of her mother, and deeply penetrate the son's warm and sincere praise to motherhood. After reading this article for the first time, I always felt that Mr. Shi Lao's narrative was far from the title. He wrote from the conflict between his childhood and his mother, and wrote that his mother had died when he won the prize. Experience, "Albizia tree" seems to be the supporting role in the supporting role Parliament Cigarettes, and the mother is undoubtedly the protagonist. The mother in Shi Tiesheng's pen is a woman who loves beauty and loves her life. She wears a blue flower dress made by herself for her son. The sick child is exhausted, and actively encourages and supports his son's creative career. He planted an acacia tree, a sustenance of life, care and care for it, and an attitude and interest in life. Although in a difficult position, he has a beautiful, bright and hopeful life. . After careful study, it is not difficult to see that Mr. Shi Lao is concerned with "album" and loves his mother. That acacia tree was planted and survived by the mother when she was running for her son in many ways and suffering. Come. After the death of the mother, it has undoubtedly become a sustenance and reliance on the memory of the mother. In the days when the acacia tree was high and Fang Qi, the mother had passed away seven years. How can you face the acacia tree that is sad and missed? Get up, stand in front of the window, look at the fluffy acacia flowers, let out the one in your hand gently, and go away with the wind, gaze-gaze Bring my thoughts into the distance. Maybe my mother is still working in the fields at this time? My mother is a typical rural woman. She was also beautiful and generous when she was young. However, after years of hard work, her mother is already old. Many, the rough skin is no longer fair, the dark fingers are no longer slender, the wrinkles quietly grow in my mind, the white hair slowly spawns from fatigue, mother, loves life, for which she paid too much too much help Flowers and plants are the habit of her father, while her mother takes care of her small vegetable garden. Pumpkins, tomatoes, cowpeas Wholesale Cigarettes, peppers, and other crops are all available.The mother on weekdays, unlike the mother of Mr. Shi Lao, always watches his son silently, and always talks about it, but I don't complain about the mother's bitterness, because the Tibetans have the mother's endless love and care. Under the halo of motherly love is that strange happiness! Most memorably, my mother sent me to school in the drizzle. Although it is so ordinary, love is often hidden in ordinary. It was a Sunday evening, and the students returned to school normally. It was gray. My mother used her small battery to drive me to the campus. There was a drizzle in the air. The mother was not wearing a raincoat. I looked at her mother ��s hair. It was dark. There are silver wires in the middle, and the tiny "raindrops" are shining with light, just like the mother's love. At the gate of the school, I entered the campus as usual and looked back at the Prime Minister. It was the mother's gaze, which was gradually distant. Under the sky, love was echoing. |
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