Eighth grade father composition

In daily study, work or life, the most familiar thing to everyone is composition. According to the characteristics of propositional writing, compositions can be divided into propositional compositions and non-propositional compositions. How to write a thoughtful and literary composition? Below are 5 essays for eighth-grade fathers that I compiled for you. Welcome to read, I hope you will like them. Eighth grade father composition 1

A handsome young man in white clothes, wearing a peaked cap worth more than 100,000 yuan, holding a 95 Supreme brand cigarette in his mouth, walked in with his head held high. In front of a large hotel, a waitress shouted respectfully: "Hello, sir, welcome." The handsome young man blew out smoke rings and winked at the waitress, who lowered her head shyly. , two apple-like blushes appeared on his face. The handsome boy walked into the hotel triumphantly.

On the contrary, an old man with a hunched back, old age, and wrinkles also walked into the hotel. The waitress standing at the door looked at him with disdain. The old man staggered into the hotel leaning on a wooden stick. The men and women in the hotel hurriedly avoided him, as if the old man was a smelly useless thing. The receptionist looked him up and down with disgust and asked: "What kind of room do you live in?" The old man quickly said: "No... no... I don't live in a room, I'm here to find someone."

" What room is the person you are looking for?" The waitress was obviously impatient.

"I don't know." The old man replied awkwardly.

"You don't know? You don't know who you are looking for? Get out quickly and don't disturb our business!" the waitress yelled angrily. The men and women around looked at the waiter and the old man.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I didn't mean to disturb your business." The old man said and knelt down. "I just came to see my son who works in the city. My son is always having trouble." Qian La, the annual salary is more than one million." The old man's face was filled with a smile, "I only get to see my son once a year, oh, I can't sleep just thinking about it!" The old man's expression darkened again.

Suddenly, the old man saw a white figure, how familiar the back was! The old man rushed over, hugged the owner of the white figure and cried, "Son, dad misses you so much. I haven't seen you for so many days, and my son has lost weight!" The little handsome boy looked around and found the people around him. They were all looking at themselves, so they let go of the old man, pushed him away and said, "Who are you? I don't know you. You got the wrong person, old guy!" The old man was pushed by the young handsome guy, staggered, and almost fell down. There are kind people supporting the old man.

The old man looked at the handsome boy's face again and said with certainty: "You must be my son, raised by me. How could you admit your mistake? Son, do you think your father is ugly? Don't Dad?" the old man asked with disbelief.

"I really don't know you, old guy, get out of here!" The handsome boy glanced at the people around him, turned around and left without looking back.

The old man was left to cry alone.

Leaving people around to talk about it. Eighth Grade Father's Composition 2

Father's Love Everyone says that father's love is like a mountain and mother's love is like water. My father's love is rich and colorful, sometimes strict, sometimes naughty, sometimes gentle, but no matter what, This is my father's most sincere love for me.

Naughty, energetic ball. When I was a child, the teacher gave me very little homework at school. I basically finished it half an hour after I got home. I didn’t have to go to extra-curricular classes at that time, so I finished my homework every day. After dinner, I would play with my father. It can be said that we were so excited. We were like brothers and sisters regardless of their age. Once, when everything was ready, my father and I rode a fitness ball together in a competition, sitting on it to see who could jump to the finish line first. It started, my mother gave the order, and my father and I got busy, chasing each other regardless of the outcome. It was really fun. Even my mother said that we were crazy and said that my father was really an old naughty boy. Looking at my father, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes seemed to have faded, and the silver thread on his head seemed to be gone. Hey, he seemed to be really young again.

As I was thinking about it, I got distracted. My father overtook me and won the first place. I held the ball and rolled all over the floor. My father jumped over and played with me. This naughty action contains my father's deep love for me. Strictness is like a cold mountain. Some people say that severity is also a kind of love. As the saying goes, a strict teacher will produce a good disciple, and a strict father will produce a filial son. My father also has such an attitude towards me, strict, but loving. My grades in science have never been good. I was just okay in math in elementary school, but it plummeted after entering junior high school. In the second year of junior high school, a new subject was added: physics. Now my grades in science were simply terrible.

After the mid-term exam, I returned home with my heavy schoolbag. The road was so long, one minute seemed like a year, and the schoolbag on my back seemed to have sunk a lot, like a thousand pounds weighing me down. Out of breath. After entering the house, my father asked: Are the results out? How many were tested? I didn't dare to lie, so I told the truth. My father's eyes widened with anger, and he raised his hand and hit me hard twice on the back. I was also angry: "Points, points, points, you know points, except points." Do you know something else, am I your daughter or am I your daughter? After that, I slammed the door and went into my house. I didn't talk to him all night. At about ten o'clock, he opened the door and I turned my head to the side. He said: I just want you to have a long memory. You are already so old and it will be too late if you don't learn. I don't really want to hit you, otherwise I wouldn't be like this. Be gentle, remember it next time, don't be blind again. After my father went out, I thought about it carefully. It was me who didn't listen carefully to the class, saying that I should, and besides, he didn't hit me hard enough. My father was using severity as a prescription to cure my heart disease, and he still loved me. Tenderness, like delicate silk thread Even though my father has strict requirements on me, he still has a soft heart. When I entered junior high school, I had more books and the burden on my schoolbag became heavier. One day, I lost my schoolbag on the way to school, so I went home with my schoolbag in my arms. My mother happened to be on duty at school that day, so my father, a grown man, picked up the delicate I used silk thread to mend my schoolbag. After I finished mending it, I looked at it and saw that it was perfect. I asked my father how he could sew so well. My father smiled and said: Keep it secret. Suddenly, I realized that my father also had a heart as gentle as silk.

A father's love is like a mountain, and a mother's love is like water. Yes, a father's love is like a towering mountain, sometimes undulating and naughty, sometimes tall and straight, majestic and severe; sometimes low and gentle, gentle as silk. It is these rich and varied emotions that constitute my father’s rich and colorful love for me. Eighth Grade Father's Composition Part 3

I can feel your breath, just like the moon at noon, I can't see it but I know it is always there. ——Inscription

"I always ask for things from you but never say thank you. It’s not easy to understand you until I grow up. I always pretend to be relaxed every time I leave. I smile and say go back. Turn around. Tears wet my eyes..." Isn't this song a portrayal of all great parents?

Dad, what should I give you in return?

From the day I was born, I know that you are taking care of me all the time. From that moment on, did you spend all your love on me? For as long as I can remember, you have always been busy and busy just to let us live a happy life. You have always pampered me since I was a child. You do whatever I say, and you never object to what I do.

I like to see you busy for me when I am sick. That feeling is really happy. But when you fell ill, I was at a loss and couldn't do anything to help you. You always pretended to be relaxed and said you were fine, and I was always fooled by you. Now, I am not so stupid, but you still treat me like a child. Dad, don't be brave. I know you are not in good health. It doesn't matter. I have grown up and can take good care of you.

I have never observed you carefully, only to find that your black hair is mixed with a few white hairs; I have never paid attention to you, only to find that the years are still ruthlessly carving marks on your face. . Whenever we stand together, someone always says that we are brothers and sisters. At that time, you smiled so brightly...

Dad, what should I give you in return?

You always give for us and give us everything you have, but I have never thought about what I should give you in return.

I once read an article: "It's the parents who hang up the phone last." That night, I had a phone call with you. After we finished talking, I asked you to hang up. You said, let me hang up first. At that time, a warm current surged into my heart, and liquid gushed out of my eyes - the person who hangs up the phone last is the one who loves you the most. Perhaps many people have never paid attention to this detail, but this article does not. It's not false. Every time after making a call, I always hang up the phone in a hurry and never pay attention to it. That day, after we talked on the phone, I didn’t speak, but was waiting for you to hang up. After a few minutes, I didn’t hear you hang up. You on the other end of the phone were just like me, were you waiting for me to hang up? Hang up the phone first? I asked tentatively, "Dad?" "Yes." "Are you still here?" "Yes." "Then why don't you hang up?" "I'm waiting for you to hang up." "You hang up first. "Okay." "It's okay, I'll wait for you to hang up first." ... We were in a stalemate for a few more minutes. I didn't speak and you didn't say anything. After a while, I looked at my phone and it was still on the phone. , I know you are waiting for me. Finally, I couldn't help it and hung up the phone first. This reminds me of the past - I always wanted to hear your voice and called you from time to time. Every time I asked you to hang up first, and you were always waiting for me. We were stuck like this for a long time. For a long time, in the end, I was the one who hung up the phone first...

"Slow down the time, don't let you grow old anymore, I am willing to change your years with me..."

Dad, what should I give in return for your love?

What should I give you in return for your efforts?

Tell me, what should I give you in return?

Is it true that I will never be able to repay you for your devotion to me...Eighth grade father composition 4

In northern cities, every spring, yellow sand will fly all over the sky. Already used to it. I still clearly remember that after school at noon that day, my father came to pick me up as usual, but unexpectedly saw an old woman wearing shabby clothes, with an iron box in front of her, and kept knelt down and kowtowed to passers-by. Looking at the old lady kneeling in the yellow sand, even though her hair was gray, a trace of pity flashed in my heart, and I wanted to step forward and give her some money, but after seeing the indifference of others, I gave up this idea. "No one else gave me any money, so why should I be the first?" This thought drove me to speed up my departure. But before I took two steps, I realized that my father was not beside me. When I turned around, I found that my father was looking for something on his body. "Dad, what are you looking for?" I hurriedly turned around and ran to my dad, gently tugged on my dad's sleeve, and asked calmly. "I want to find some money to give to the old man over there. Whatever money you have, take it over first." Dad said in an irresistible tone. "Ah? How do you know if that old lady is a liar? Besides, no one else paid, so why should we be the first?"

Although I deeply understand my father's stubborn temper, I Still trying to persuade dad. "Even if it's a lie, there must be some unavoidable reasons. Besides, if I am the first to help the elderly, then others will follow suit." Dad paused and then continued: " Also, remember that everyone is born equal and no one deserves to be given charity. If you give him money, it is just help. Dad's words of wisdom to me. At that moment, that sentence was deeply rooted in my heart. "Facing everyone with an equal attitude" became my goal and my standard for myself. Whenever I think of that old grandma, I will think of the words of motto my father said to me in that yellow sandy sky... Eighth grade father's essay 5

It's another rainy day, and the sky is full of rain. It was full of haze, as if my heart was heavy. Suddenly, a thin figure rushed out from the rain curtain. Upon closer inspection, it turned out to be my father.

My father left me with too many unforgettable memories.

My father is a simple farmer.

He has no gorgeous appearance, no prominent status, and no luxury of spending money like water. All he has is a pair of rough, skinny, hard-working hands. His beard looked like freshly harvested wheat stubble, and his earthy face was covered with wrinkles, like the deep furrows plowed in the field.

My father is a person who is not good at expressing himself. He rarely talks at home, but once he speaks out, he means it. My brother and I are afraid of him, and my father is the authority in my family. But my father was not like this before.

My father was a very kind man and was very kind to me. I remember my mother said that when I was young, my father would go fishing every day to feed me. Every time he ate fish, he would carefully clean the fish bones and then feed the meat into my mouth. The happiest thing for my father is to watch me eat with big mouthfuls. But one day I contracted a very serious disease. According to the medical conditions at the time, there was a high probability that this disease was hopeless. But my father was busy seeking medical treatment for that one-tenth of a percent of hope. Finally, my weak life survived. But my father has changed - his cheeks are slender and his eyes are sunken. The strong and cheerful father in the past has become less talkative.

After many years, my father is still thin. But his deep eyes revealed 100% care for his children. Only then did I understand with relief: How great and selfless the father's love was for those one-tenths!

My father came from a poor life. The extraordinary experience left a deep impression on him throughout his life - poverty, hardship and illiteracy. My father has never been to school and cannot read a single word. When it comes to our generation, the first thing my father did in his life was to send me to school, and he said to me: "Going to school is the happiest thing for a child!" Now I understand my father's desire for knowledge. Thinking back to the time when I felt inferior because my father attended my parent-teacher conference, I thought about how "smart" I was at that time. This is a father's worship of knowledge. Poverty destroyed him, but the current society has changed him. This is a kind of respect and a perfect ending to one's life.

Coming to an end is easier said than done! My father is trying to manage his life well. My father is a farmer, and a farmer’s profession is farming. My father’s farming is what I admire the most. My father is very hardworking. I remember one time, when the sun was scorching hot, the cicadas in the field started chirping desperately. My father and I were weeding in the field. After a while, my back was soaked. When my father wasn't paying attention, I fell asleep under the tree with a hoe. . I don’t know how long it took, but my father pushed me awake. All the grass in the field had been removed. My father said something: "If you 'eat' in your sleep, you will prepare to beg for food. If you don't study hard, you will come back to work." I understand that my father hates iron and wants me to study well! His words have spurred me on for years.

This is my father, a father who makes me proud!

Teacher’s comments:

My father was originally a strong, cheerful, and kind man, but he became thin and silent because of “I”’s hard work in treating diseases; the poverty in the past made my father He failed to study, so he placed his hope on "me" and taught "me" to study hard. What's rare is that "I" can finally understand my father's hard work and intentions. The content of this article is true and the emotions are sincere.

The underlined sentences in the article are incomprehensible: "This is a father's worship of knowledge" and "This is a kind of respect". The "this" in the two sentences respectively refers to What? And what does "come to an end" mean? It's really not clear.