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In my eyes, my father is a silent person, a person who loves me and loves me, a person who loves reading and writing, and a person who guides more than discipline. In my eyes, my father's image is very tall, and I have to look up to see it. May my father live healthily and I will always be his child. ...

Father is a man of few words When he was with his mother, he heard her talking all the time. My father just keeps smoking and answers once in a while, and most of them are just a sentence or two. When the guests came home, their father accompanied them to dinner, neither letting wine nor persuading them to eat. It is impolite to eat only your own food. It's the same for us children. He seldom asks about our study. He thinks that learning is our own business. Ask him if you have any questions. He also said that you should ask the teacher.

My father is a farmer, but in my eyes, many places are not like real farmers. My father finished primary school and dropped out of school because of poverty in the second grade of junior high school. Then he and several companions ran to Baotou without telling their grandparents, where they went to a technical secondary school for two years. Later, due to natural disasters in the 1960s, the school was dissolved, and my father returned to his hometown to continue to be his farmer. My father wrote a very good hand of calligraphy. Whoever has a wedding or funeral in the village always respectfully asks his father to be a cashier and write something down. Spring Festival is a busy season for my father. The villagers sent red paper to my house early and asked my father to write Spring Festival couplets. Often, before the Spring Festival, my family has long been filled with festive atmosphere. When I was a child, my father asked me to learn to write letters to my uncle in Shandong. What format, how to call it and how to sign it are all taught by my father. Although I like his handwriting, I haven't practiced it for a long time, and it hasn't been shapeless until now. When I go home and have a drink with my father until I am happy, my father always points at me and says, "As far as you are concerned, you are still a Chinese department or a teacher. The writing is not as good as that of a farmer like me. " I can only smile and nod.

Father is a man who loves books. Every time he goes out, he always puts a book in his bag. There is really nothing to read, so I have to bring some newspapers. I remember my father bought books by himself, including Water Margin, Stories of Eastern Zhou Countries, Strange Tales from a Lonely Studio and Three Stories by Feng Menglong, which were published in 1975. During the slack season, other men play cards or gamble, and my father reads on the kang. On rainy and snowy days, I read books all day. In the past two years, my father was dazzled, so he bought a pair of reading glasses himself and didn't forget to study. I sometimes look carefully, and the old man really looks like a literati. When I went home this summer vacation, I rummaged through the bookcases and found a set of "Wonders of Ancient and Modern Times" by the old man in Ming Dynasty, which was engraved in Daoguang period of Qing Dynasty. Unfortunately, one roll is missing. I said to him, give me this book. Father said yes, but I can't see at all. My father often said to me with emotion, "During the Cultural Revolution, all the books left by your grandfather when he was a private school teacher were burned while I was cooking, for fear of getting into trouble. It's worth it if you don't stay until now. " So I am also very emotional. Fortunately, our generation will never catch up with the era of "burning books".

Of the three children in my family, my father loves me the most. He said I could sit still and behave myself. In winter, I run in the street all day, sweating all over, and my cotton trousers are wet with heat. Reprinted from Fenfen. Please keep this sign. Before getting up, my father always lights the stove early, then turns my cotton trousers over by hand and roars slowly while baking. Soon, I saw plumes of hot air coming out of my cotton trousers. After baking, dad will rub cotton trousers with his two pairs of big hands to make them soft. When I put it on again, I felt very warm. My father is a restless man. He often polishes my shoes, and he polishes them carefully every time. Every day, my father takes out the bike I rode at school, and when I go home at night, my father takes care of it for me every time. His job is to clean the car and cheer up. In his eyes, I always seem to be a child. All the books I read at school were covered by my father himself and written with a brush. I have been a teacher for so many years, and my high school textbooks are still well preserved. Sometimes I see him say that this book is useless. Please sell it. Father always said, "keep it, keep it, and it will be annoying when you use it." I studied in Nanjing for four years. Every time my father writes to me, the letter always ends with, don't worry about money, eat well and take care of your health. He seldom tells me to study hard, but after reading my father's letter, I naturally know how to study.

Now, I have been a father for more than ten years. When the child was young, he refused to take medicine because of illness. He often beats children, but he is older, and I often beat him because he doesn't like going to kindergarten. Until now, I haven't studied hard and failed in the exam. I scolded my children, too. Think about my father and my children. I'm really ashamed. My father and I meet several times a year, and once we meet, he gets old. Isn't it? I am in my forties. Can a father not be old?

In my eyes, my father is a silent person, a person who loves me and loves me, a person who loves reading and writing, and a person who guides more than discipline. In my eyes, my father's image is very tall, and I have to look up to see it. May my father live healthily, and I am willing to be his child forever.

mother

Motherly love is water, which nourishes our thirsty hearts; Motherly love is a lamp that illuminates our way forward; Motherly love is the wind, blowing away our growing troubles; Motherly love is ...

The teacher once made a survey in the class. The content of the investigation is who remembers his mother's birthday. As a result, only three students know. Who washed mom's feet? None of them showed up. I was suddenly startled. Yes! I remember many gifts my mother bought me every birthday, such as toy cars, basketball and beautiful new clothes. But I don't even remember my mother's birthday, let alone say "happy birthday" to my mother. So the teacher assigned homework, that is, everyone helped her mother wash her feet once. When I came home at night, I said I would wash my mother's feet with a footbath. My mother was shocked. She has never enjoyed her son washing her feet! Mom said I didn't need to wash. She was very uncomfortable, but she didn't bother me. Looking at her thin feet, my heart is sour. I've wanted to live a comfortable life for so many years. I never thought about how much my mother suffered, how tired she loved, and sometimes made her angry. Really shouldn't!

Mom always remembers what we like to eat, but we never think about what mom likes to eat. Every time I think of this, I think of that scene.

This article is provided by Percent Net,

An old man selling hemp balls

Selling hemp balls, selling hemp balls ... "This damn peddling woke me up from my dream again. Needless to say, it's half past five, and it's still half an hour before I should get up.

Somehow, just recently, an old man selling hemp balls came to us. He starts selling at 5: 30 every day, whether on weekdays or weekends. Whether it is sunny, windy or rainy, it will not give in. Every day, he disturbs my good dreams. I should get up at six o'clock. At this time, he woke me up and made me afraid to sleep. When I got up, I didn't think of it. I had to toss and turn in bed and wasted half an hour, not to mention how uncomfortable it was. For this reason, I hate this hemp ball very much, and I get a headache and upset when I hear this peddling. I don't know how many times I scolded him in my heart.

However, until one day, my opinion of this old man selling hemp balls suddenly changed.

It was a sunny Sunday morning, and I was woken up by the hateful peddling as usual. I covered my head tightly with a quilt and didn't want to mention how cruel I was to the old man. It's hateful to have such a rest day and not let people sleep late. Suddenly, amid the harsh hawking, there came the crowing of larks, which was crisp and sweet, and my heart could not help moving. I can't sleep anyway. I might as well go out and see the scenery in the morning, see what kind of old man this is and what kind of craftsmanship he has, just lift the quilt and put it on quickly.

I took some change and walked out of the house. Hey, it's a nice day today. The sky is blue and the sun is shining, and my heart suddenly opens up. I followed the hawking to find the old man selling hemp balls, and I saw an old man surrounded by a large group of children from a distance. I thought, no wonder peddling comes every day, business is good. I quickly took a few steps and took a closer look, which surprised me. In my heart, the person who sells hemp balls is a dirty person covered in oil. I didn't expect the old man in front of me to wear an old uniform that was washed white, but he was clean and neat, up and down, and he looked capable. I secretly liked it, handed the change to my hand and said, "Give me two." With money in one hand, the old man picked up a pair of chopsticks and a convenient bag in the other, took out two hemp balls and put them in the bag. He said gently, "Be careful, take them." I took it, took out one and took a bite. It's really fragrant and crisp. It's delicious, very delicious. I can't help liking him. I looked at him carefully: my weather-beaten face left wrinkles carved by years, my body was strong, and my face was always filled with a kind smile to children. No wonder the children were surrounded in a big circle. No wonder children are so willing to eat. No wonder I bring a pleasant hemp ball back every day.

Who knows that I was stopped by the old man just a few steps ago, and I couldn't help but "plop" in my heart, thinking that I had just paid the money. Why, should I be corrected? My newfound affection for him suddenly disappeared. I turned around angrily and just wanted to attack. Unexpectedly, the old man took out four and a half pieces from his pocket and handed them to me. He said apologetically, "little classmate, I was busy just now and didn't have time to give you change." I am really sorry. " I was puzzled. He quickly said, "You gave me five dollars." I suddenly understood that because I was in a hurry, I didn't care to mistake five dollars for fifty cents. Looking at the money handed by the old man and remembering the thoughts in my head, my face turned white for a moment. I don't know what to do. Seeing me like this, the old man asked with concern, "What's the matter, little classmate?" What's the matter? "I was speechless. I really hate myself. How can I look at such an old man who works hard to support himself? I quickly reached for the money handed over by the old man and said, "Nothing, I bought it all." The old man gave me all the remaining hemp balls and said, "Two more are free. "I refused to accept anything, but the old man smiled and said," This is a big business at a loss. Buy five and get one free. " Say that finish, also don't look back. ...

Looking at the old man's farther and farther back, I have great respect for him, and I can't help feeling in my heart: all the small vendors I usually contact are shoddy, with less to fill more, deceiving customers. How can there be honesty between people? Today, the old man gave me a vivid lesson. The world needs honesty, but we should cherish it even more!