Warmth comes with the wind composition

Listen to the sound of spring. Look at the color of spring. Smell the fragrance of spring. My heart skips a beat.

Do you still remember that long-lost feeling?

—— Early summer.

The sun is scorching. The wind is blowing with a slight warmth, and the early summer sunshine is refracted through the dense leaves on the hot ground. Such a hot and poisonous summer.

I was in the fourth grade of elementary school that year, and I remember that I received a lot of attention from my teacher. That summer, my teacher asked me to represent the class in a speech contest. When I got home, I couldn’t wait. I immediately told the news You, you were very happy after listening to it. It was already late at night——

"Give me your speech and let me see where I need to add more actions and where I need to pay more attention." What."

"Yeah." After I gave it to you, I fell asleep. But I didn’t know that you read the manuscript late into the night.

Since that day, you have been with me every night. I memorized the speech until the day of the competition. The ruthless nights have exhausted your energy. But I didn’t say anything, even just a word of condolences.

——Late Autumn.

Midsummer has arrived. A breeze with a fruity fragrance blew across my cheeks. Autumn is very beautiful. The beauty of autumn cannot be expressed in words. Such a affectionate and poetic autumn. In this bleak autumn There are fallen leaves all over the ground. If you step on them, the rustling sound touches people's hearts.

I was in the fifth grade of elementary school that year. I remember a math test that time. In that test, I took the test I won the first place in the class. But you were not at home at noon that day, and the test results were announced that morning. I couldn't wait to pick up the phone and tell you the results. You were very happy after hearing it. When you came back that night, I gave you the paper. Look, I'm showing off to you. Maybe I'm too proud, your happy face suddenly dropped, and I was really scared at that time——

"I got the first place in the exam. Of course it's a good thing, but if you become proud because of this first place, then you might as well not take the exam." You returned to your room.

It's just this cold couple. These words touched the most fragile place deep in my heart. Tears instantly crossed my cheeks and fell straight to the ground. I heard the ticking sound. Mother, maybe you don’t know that after that exam , the class held another test. I took the first place again, but I don’t want you to know.

——Midwinter.

The wind was biting. On the morning of the midwinter, The cold ground was covered with a thin layer of snowflakes. A gust of cold wind came, like a knife blade, lightly eroding my cheeks. Such a cold and cold winter.

I was in primary school that year Sixth grade. I remember that there was a singing competition in school that year, and I was one of the participants. The next morning, I got up late, and you got up late too. I had to put on makeup that day. You asked me to get up and put it on immediately. I rushed all the way to a photography shop. When I arrived at the photography shop, I don’t know what you said to the makeup staff there, and then you rushed to me. After about ten minutes of makeup, you brought I rushed to school.

When I arrived at school, you looked at your watch and saw that it was already 7:50. I was about to turn around and leave, but you stopped me and gave me some eggs from my bag. and a bottle of milk——

“Be sure to finish the eggs, otherwise you won’t have the energy to sing by the time of the competition.”

“Well, Mom, hurry up and go. Well, you are already late for work."

"Don't worry about me, you go to school quickly."

Suddenly, I felt a little moved, the kind I had never felt before. The cold wind blew, and I shrank from the cold.

Mom, I grew up by then.

——Mengchun

The footprints that cannot be seen clearly are traces in the snow. The endless topic is the winter of that year. A spring breeze suddenly blew, making people feel uncertain. The eyes that were blown by the wind brought back memories.< /p>

Mother, thank you, I grew up that winter. There are too many words to express my gratitude to. I can only borrow from Meng Jiao’s poem - "The thread in the hands of a loving mother, the clothes on the wanderer’s body." There is a tight gap before departure, and I am afraid that I will return late. Whoever speaks an inch of grass will be rewarded with three spring rays." This is the only way. I can only use this poem that has almost become an eternal masterpiece of maternal love to praise you.

Thank you, you led me into this world, and I am very grateful to you, because only those who know how to appreciate their mothers know how to survive and cherish.

The hour hand keeps turning, the room The lights are still the same, and the heart and temperature are falling at the same time. Do you recall the warmth that flowed in the passing years?

I feel the long-lost touch.