The vast majority of people have felt the love from their parents
But show that love
Write a touching article
But it is not an easy task
Today's "worldly" masterpiece to share with you
The author's delicate writing style and control of the narrative rhythm
Make the article full of true feelings and stir the heartstrings of readers
Each one is worth reading
This issue invites experts from the Chucai Competition Committee for final evaluation
Comments on The Masterpiece to Teacher Bi Ying
Let's take a look
Father's tears
New Beacon Hotel Group (Wuhan) Co., Ltd. Cha Jinming
In my memory, the image of my father has always been majestic and majestic.
Sometimes the father is like a mountain, towering and silent; sometimes, the father is like a tree, tough and upright, without fear of wind and frost. For many years, my father had used his broad shoulders to shield his family from the wind and rain, but my mother told me that in fact, under my father's strong appearance, there was also a deep and bone-crushing tenderness.
When I was seven years old, my grandmother died. On the day my grandmother left, my father, the eldest son, suppressed his inner sadness and busied himself with his relatives to handle the funeral. By the time Grandma was in the ground, it was dusk. By the time it was time for dinner, my father was gone. Anxious for the family to look around, and finally the mother found that in the afterglow of the late autumn sun, his father was kneeling in front of the grave of his grandmother's new base, his hands on his knees, tears flowing, and an evening wind disturbed his messy hair...
At the end of the 1970s, there were still some places in China where the problem of food and clothing had not been completely solved.
At that time, my father was the head of the production team, and the grain in the team was centrally managed and distributed. One day, the grain in the production team's warehouse was inexplicably short of about ten catties of rice when it was weighed. In those days, the loss of food in the warehouse was no small matter. So the matter was quickly reported to my father. At the same time, someone told his father that the night before, he saw the mother of the warehouse keeper holding a cloth bag and quietly walked out of the grain warehouse.
The next day, my father asked the warehouse keeper. The warehouse keeper snorted, saying that the key to the warehouse had always been in his hand, and he did not know the reason for the food shortage. But he was willing to bear responsibility for the loss of food and agreed to deduct it from the public grain that their family should distribute this month.
The father asked for a moment, and then acquiesced to the claim that the warehouse was in storage. Because the father knew that the wife of the warehouse keeper had a third child only last month. A family of old and young, originally there was not enough food, and now it has added population, how to eat it!
At the end of the month, when the public grain is distributed, the shortage of rice in the grain warehouse is naturally deducted from the amount allocated by the custodian's family. When the warehouse keeper's mother was carrying a dry bag of rice and was about to leave in frustration, her father stopped her. My father poured some of the rice that our family shared with the custodian's mother. The custodian's mother was overjoyed, with a look of gratitude, and kept whining.
When I arrived home in the evening, I saw my father return with rice, and my mother happily greeted me. When she took the fluttering rice bag in her father's hand, her smile froze. Seeing the doubts on her mother's face, her father told her the truth of the matter.
The mother listened, silently, and only when she turned around, she secretly wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes.
Looking at his wife's helpless eyes and the children waiting to be fed, the father who was tormented in his heart could not help but be sad...
Time flies. More than ten years have passed, and our sisters and brothers have gradually grown up under the protection of their parents. At this time, my father was getting older and older.
When I was 14 years old, my eldest sister got married and started a family. On the day my eldest sister got married, looking at the guests at home, plus there was good food and drink, I couldn't help but smile and blossom in my heart. But the mother, because of her reluctance in her heart, cried several times. When all the dowries were taken away and the eldest sister was led out of the house by the bridesmaids, the mother found that she did not see her father.' My mother asked me to go and call my father, saying that the eldest sister was about to leave, and asked my father to come and send a gift.
I searched around the crowd and didn't see my father. Mother said, you should go to the back room and look for it. Finally, I found the small room behind the stove house, and as soon as I pushed open the door, I found that in the dim room, my father was sitting alone on the edge of the bed, secretly weeping...
At that time, how could I understand the father's fiery and deep love for his daughter? It wasn't until many years later, when I was already a father, that I suddenly looked back and remembered my father's weeping figure alone in that hut, and I understood the soft intestines under my father's strong appearance!
Perhaps, this is life; dusty, simple and plain.
That summer, one afternoon before I took the college entrance examination, the sky was raining heavily, and I was sitting in the classroom reviewing. Suddenly, the door to the classroom was pushed open, and I looked up to see that it was my father. I saw my father wearing a set of old blue clothes, holding an umbrella in his right hand and a cloth bag in his left hand; my father's hair and clothes had long been soaked by the heavy rain, and his highly rolled trouser legs were constantly dripping down...
My father tried to scan the classroom twice, but he didn't find me, which somewhat embarrassed him, and my father had to retreat to the door of the classroom. So I hurriedly got up and walked out of the classroom with my father. When I saw my father drenched in heavy rain like a chicken in the soup, I couldn't help but feel a pang of bitterness in my heart, blaming my father for not having to brave the rain to walk more than ten kilometers to send me something.
Father said, "Seeing that you haven't been home for two weeks, I'll take the time to come to the county seat and send you some rice and vegetables by the way." "I took the cloth bag in my father's hand, looked at him, paused, saw that my father had nothing else to give me, and said to my father, 'Dad, you should go back early, or it will be too late."
"Yes, I'll just go. Your mom will be in a hurry when it's too late to go back. Father said lightly.
After saying that, the father held up his umbrella, took a staggering step, and slowly disappeared into the rainstorm. Looking at my father's distant back, I stood for a long time, tears in my eyes...
After the black July of that year, I was admitted to a university that was not ideal. On the day I received the acceptance letter, when I saw that my father was helpless, I said to my father, "Dad, college, I won't go!" ”
My father glanced at me and said somewhat angrily, "I have a way to handle the tuition fee, and I don't need you to take care of it." "That torch-like gaze, resolute and distant! After that, for several days, my father came out early and returned late, going to a relative's house to borrow money to raise tuition and living expenses for me.
In September of that year, with the dream of life and the expectations of my parents, I hiked more than ten kilometers of mountain roads to the county seat and boarded a bus bound for Wuhan...
In the years that followed, it was quiet and indifferent.
Due to the hardships and tiredness of life, many of my dreams have flickered in my mind and gradually drifted away, but I have never forgotten my father's waddling figure and resolute gaze in my memory.
After graduating from college, I made my home in a distant city. And my parents still live in the countryside, guarding the black land they love, and don't quit working.
A few years ago, due to overwork and old age, my father suffered from cerebral embolism, and later suffered from coronary heart disease, which caused a syndrome and was in danger several times. In order to facilitate medical treatment, my parents had to stop farming and labor, and moved from the mountains to the county seat.
During the Spring Festival of 2020, I returned to my hometown during the epidemic, and due to the lockdown, I lived with my parents for the longest 65 days in more than 20 years. At this time, the parents are really old, especially the father. Whenever I see my father's old dragon clock, I feel like I am lost!
Last year, my father's condition worsened again, and despite repeated treatments, he did not improve, and he developed symptoms of manic Alzheimer's disease. After that, my father became noticeably silent, and the smile on his face gradually disappeared.
On National Day last year, I returned to my hometown. When I eagerly pushed open the door, I saw my father reclining on the couch, half-open-mouthed and asleep.
I tapped my father on the shoulder and shouted, "Dad..." My father opened his eyes, looked at me, and said lightly, "Here you are!" ”
I was surprised when my father asked me, "Do you see my son?" ”
Suddenly, I felt sorrow. My father doesn't know me anymore!
As he spoke, his father's eyes turned red, and two cloudy teardrops slipped from the corners of his eyes...
Speechless, I picked up a tissue and gently wiped the tears from the corners of my father's eyes.
At that moment, how I wished that time would be turned back and that my father would return to normal memories; at that moment, I wanted my father to know that his son was standing in front of him. Even as time passes, no matter how the years change, his son still loves him deeply and will never change!
In his father's life, he wept bitterly for his mother, grieve for his wife, and weep for his children... But I never shed tears for myself!
Father's tears flow with the most sincere love and love in the world! (End)
In life, most people have felt more or less fatherly love. It is not an easy task to express this fatherly love and write a touching article.
After reading this article, we were deeply impressed by the image of a strong, open-minded, responsible and soft-hearted father. The author's father not only has a personality very similar to his father Zhou Zhigang in "The World", but also committed a brain infarction in the end, and the ending of his life is also sad.
There must be many stories about my father, but the author focuses on only helping the villagers when my father was the head of the production team, my father secretly shed tears when my eldest sister got married, and I sent things to "me" in the rain before the college entrance examination. Finally, the father lost his memory after the cerebral infarction and could no longer recognize "me". These storylines are very accurate in expressing the father's personality charm and personality characteristics from different aspects.
After reading this article, students may wish to write an essay showing fatherly love as well. Think about it before you start writing, my father's few things are the most fun, the most interesting, the most touching, the most interesting... Choose two or three of the ones you remember the most, string them together, and it should be a good article. Of course, the language of the article should also be exquisite. The article is already pretty good, but there are still some places where there is room for improvement, such as near the end, which has two sentences like this:
I was surprised when my father asked me, "Do you see my son?" ”
Suddenly, I felt sorrow. My father doesn't know me anymore!
If modified to:
I was surprised when my father then asked me, "Do you see my family gold?" ”
"Kim" is my nickname. Suddenly, I felt sorrow. My father doesn't know me anymore!
When editing this article, we contacted the author, and his father did always call him "Kim". After the amnesia, he did not recognize his son, but he kept remembering his son and always calling his nickname.
Wouldn't it be more interesting to change it this way?
(Reviewer: Xiang Biying)
Mother's needle and thread
Hubei University of Economics Ma Cuilan
Like most mothers in the world, mothers are simple, hardworking, kind, and strong. In the memory, during the busy season of farming, in the wind and rain, under the hot sun, the mother was covered in muddy water, like a man, harvesting seeds, weeding, and picking in the field; in the agricultural leisure season, the mother always sat on a smooth and polished rattan chair, next to which was her "treasure chest" - a round needle and thread basket woven with sorghum straw, a pair of hand flying needles with thick joints and seriously deformed fingers, shuttling between bamboo pieces, cloth pieces, and wool threads, taking soles, making clothes and shoes and living utensils. The basket is neatly arranged with needles of different thicknesses and lengths, colorful threads of different thicknesses, a thimble (ring-like hoops), several elastic bands, a rusty pair of scissors, a set of bamboo needles for weaving clothes, etc. When the mother is almost idle, she is either busy in the field or picking up in the vegetable garden; not making hay for pigs and cows, or washing and sewing; not feeding chickens and ducks, or zhangluo in the kitchen...
The mother is strong by nature, does not accept defeat, does not admit fate. She often taught us to be ambitious, and that people who are poor cannot be short-sighted. Although I don't know one big character, I frequently come out with golden sentences, teaching us many philosophies of life, "patrons can't burn firewood in vain", "sunny umbrellas, full of dry food", "eat not poor, wear poor, not count poor in a lifetime"... Mother's needle and thread is like a cornucopia, inexhaustible and inexhaustible. Mother's rough hands are like magic wands, always turning stones into gold and turning decay into magic.
In an era when materials were extremely poor, life was generally poor, and many things were self-sufficient, our mother's industriousness, ingenuity and meticulous calculations not only saved the three of us from freezing hunger, but also received a good education. When the neighbor's child pulled on his half-cut shoes and his heels were frozen and ulcerated, my mother had already made cotton shoes, cotton jackets, and cotton pants for us with pieces of cloth and cotton of various old clothes that had been dismantled and washed; she saved money and bought wool to knit us scars, gloves, sweaters, and sweaters. Children with mothers are like treasures, and children without mothers are like grass, which is true.
My mother is good at learning and never backs down when things go wrong. Sometimes my father went out to work and did not come back in time, and it was already the busy season of farming. The crops do not wait for anyone, and the mother is an acute child. I saw her carry the plow rake, drive the cattle, and go down to the field barefoot, ploughing the field, rake the field, and the field, like a man. Although the mother is uneducated, she has a strong ability to learn and is willing to accept new things. The sister-in-law of the East family cut out a new shoe pattern, and the sister-in-law of the West family knitted clothes and groped out a new stitching method, and she could quickly learn it. Shallow shoes, deep shoes, tiger head shoes..., yuanbao needles, pineapple needles... We can always wear the most fashionable clothes and shoes of the era made by our mothers, warm and proud. Thank you mother, you let me understand that no matter how hard the day is, as long as you work hard, as long as you are good at learning and carefully arranging, you can still live a difficult day with taste.
Mother not only does needlework in all kinds of practice, men are good at weaving skills such as bamboo and rattan, she is not backward. The autumn wind gradually rises, the sorghum stains half the sky red, and the heavy ears sway with the joy of the harvest. Sorghum straw is a good material for weaving all kinds of living utensils, making baskets, bristles, and making pot lids. The mother removed her needle and thread and saw her right middle finger wearing a thimble, thumb and index finger pinching the needle, running through the sorghum straws of uniform thickness. When the needle tip pierces the sorghum straw, the mother uses the thimble worn on the finger to push the tail of the needle hard, help the needle tip penetrate the dense sorghum straw, and then the thumb and index finger pinch the tail of the needle, pull hard, and the needle is connected to the line across the sorghum straw, and then pull the line tightly. Then cross another sorghum straw, one by one. Sometimes the needle slipped on the thimble without hesitation, and the tail of the needle was ruthlessly stuck on the finger, and even if the mother's hand was full of thick calluses, it would still be punctured and bloody.
But the cropper had long been accustomed to this pain, and the mother did not care and continued to fly the needle. After a while, a pot lid was finished. You can't help but admire your mother's rough hands for being able to do such a delicate job. You can't help but admire the industriousness and wisdom of the working people, who always have the magic of turning decay into magic, turning the most inconspicuous materials everywhere into beautiful and practical objects, and living difficult days in the years of poverty.
△ My mother made a sorghum straw pot lid ten years ago
My parents firmly believe that knowledge changes their destiny, relying on day and night of hard work, relying on my mother's diligence and thriftiness to run the family, relying on my father's hard-earned money to move bricks, pick sand, and carry cement to the construction site in the city when he was idle, our sister and brother graduated from college and went to a broader world. The mother worked tirelessly to help us with the children, although she was too blind to wear the line and her hands were shaking so hard that she could not pinch the needle, she still made shoes and cotton clothes for her grandchildren, which was her stubborn love for her grandchildren.
△ Ten years ago, my mother made shoes by hand for her grandchildren, with a thousand-layer bottom
Time flies, my mother is almost 70 years old, and her body is not as good as before due to overwork. But the mother is still strong and optimistic, hardworking and simple. With the development and progress of society, clothes and shoes are available, all kinds of daily necessities are inexhaustible, there is no longer a need to work hard to handmade, and the mother's needle and thread basket has long lost its place. But this small needle and thread basket bears witness to the difficult years of the mother's wife and mother for decades, stitching and repairing, stitching and threading, witnessing the most ordinary life in the world, full of love for life and children, urging people to forge ahead, giving people encouragement. Whoever says anything will be rewarded with three Chunhui. All the beauty in the world belongs to the mother, I thank the mother, and actively inherit the mother's virtues of hard work, kindness, optimism and self-motivation, and strive to be an excellent mother in a new era!
Comments:
This storyline, which writes about maternal love, has no ups and downs, but just peacefully and soothingly narrates how the mother labors and how to do handicraft work, and the image of a diligent, kind, and skillful mother also jumps on the paper.
The key is that what is written in the text is what the author has seen in his eyes since childhood and remembered in his heart, and is full of true feelings. At such times, the simple and unpretentious narration and description can also receive the effect of tugging at the heartstrings of the reader.
(Reviewer: Xiang Biying)
#今日话题 #
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Source | Wuhan Municipal Education Bureau Editor| Wang Yiping Co-ordinating | Shu Xiao finally judged | Zhu Hanhua