Children Jing ru si da yi photography

? "In the glittering and translucent tears, and saw the fat man. The back of a blue cotton gown and a black jacket. Alas! I don't know when I can see him again! "When I was a child, I studied Mr. Zhu Ziqing's" Back ",and the classic paragraphs inside came to mind again, fresh in my memory. I was deeply moved by his father's simple and honest, slightly clumsy and trembling back, and I couldn't help thinking of his father who was about to enter sixty.

My father, like the most ordinary father in Qian Qian, has assumed the role of father since he was born. However, in my mind, he is not synonymous with ordinary people. Memories, like the fog in the morning, pervade the storage box of thoughts. My growth, like a hidden book, is as clear as yesterday under the colorful outline of my father.

? He is extremely strict and meticulous about his studies. My parents are catching up with the tide of the country's vigorous implementation of the family planning policy in the 1980s. Both of them are employees of state-owned enterprises, and I naturally became a member of that generation of only children. My parents have never been too patriarchal, but they cherish me so much that I have been rich and carefree since I was a child. However, my childhood was soon broken by admission. My family belongs to the traditional family of "loving mother strict father". Mother's gentleness sets off father's sternness. When I entered kindergarten, my parents' care made me timid. I'm afraid to tell the teacher when I go to the bathroom. I eagerly hope that my father will pick me up as soon as possible after work every day, and I often have a bun in my hand because I don't have enough for lunch. My father is often in a hurry before leaving work. He prepared himself for his expectations. He has been holding a dry mattress in his hand and intends to give it to the kindergarten. As soon as he saw me, he touched his pants first, and his heart thumped when they got wet. After entering primary school, my tendency of attaching importance to literature and neglecting reason has already begun to take shape. Every day after school, the efficiency of Chinese homework will always rank first, and math homework will always be completed with tears under the guidance of mom and scolding of dad. In order to get the recognition of the strict math teacher's little red flower and the so-called "100+ good" class name, I can even tear off the pages of the wrong homework paper and rewrite it late into the night, just to win the teacher's favor and affirmation. In the long run, my father's patience has reached its limit. Every time after the parent-teacher conference, my father is always sullen, repeating the teacher's words, parents' expectations and the sense of crisis that is about to rise to junior high school. At that time, I had nowhere to vent, so I had to find a small diary and pour out my boredom to it.

? There were two extreme conflicts with my father in elementary school and junior high school, which are still fresh in my memory. Because of my resistance to mathematics and my fear of teachers, I will never return on the road of attaching importance to literature and ignoring reason. What bothers me most is that every math test paper needs parents' signature. In a math midterm in grade five, my score was 75. The teacher asked every parent to urge the students to correct the wrong questions and sign the improvement opinions after reading the test paper, which seemed like an impossible task to me. I slipped into the toilet, drew "7" as "8" with trembling hands, and copied down my father's name in fear, trying to muddle through. Father sensitively found the abnormality, and he kept asking me what was going on. My faltering words turned red and made my father angry. Even though he won't let me go to school, he wants me to tell the truth. At that moment, I really hope I can't drill all over the floor. My father saw the clue, and it was a "fat beat" to pick up my sole and catch me. This is the first time I remember my father hitting me. Finally, my father signed it. That time, I spent a night thinking behind closed doors and wrote a critical letter. Later, I thought, maybe it wasn't his poor grades that made him angry, but he couldn't stand cheating. In his opinion, it is unacceptable for a young child to have such intrigues against his parents.

? Another time, maybe my academic laziness made my father unbearable and tore all the books on the shelf in one breath. Desperate, he left and shut himself in the house all night. I don't know what he thought and how disappointed he was that night, but the next day I woke up in tears and found those books don't know when they were pasted and put back in their original places. Look at my father again. I don't know when the silver silk on my head has increased, and the wrinkles around my eyes have accumulated a few minutes.

Stepping into high school in a blink of an eye, I still remember my father sitting at the table with a magnifying glass and making a cup of strong tea, corresponding, analyzing and weighing the advantages and disadvantages of university maps one by one, and staying up all night; I can still feel my mixed feelings when my father handed a thick stack of RMB, including borrowing fees and school selection fees, to the educational administration teacher. I can still see the days when my father ran around looking for a house and my mother took turns to take care of my daily life in order to let me study with peace of mind, just to help me pass the college entrance examination smoothly.

Out of high expectations for my studies, I have had a tutor, a cram school and a tutor since I was a child. I spent most of my childhood with cram schools and tutors. Students ask me out to play in their spare time, and the reply is always "she is still reviewing her lessons and has no time for the time being." In order to expand my hobbies, my father enrolled me in table tennis classes, swimming classes, piano classes, dance classes and calligraphy classes. I clearly remember that I tried my best to avoid the piano teacher's search, secretly hid in the toilet and refused to come out, and then sneaked home to lie to my father that the teacher was suspended for one day because of something; The dance teacher asked me to practice girding my waist. When I was a child, I couldn't stand the pain of my flesh and blood. I only went once and there was "no follow-up". Now that I think about it, if I could go back in time, I really wanted to give myself an injection. My parents created such a good opportunity and such superior conditions for me, but I was indifferent and tried every means to escape and retreat. I really regret it, but what can I do? I can only say that under the circumstances at that time, I encouraged myself and hurt my parents' initial heart.

In life, he takes good care of everything. When I was a child, I had a bad diet and a thin figure. Parents are worried. In order to make me grow longer, my father tries his best to make me eat every morning. If a steamed bread looks too big, it will be divided into four equal parts, and colorful toothpicks will be inserted to make it into the shape of a hamburger to attract me to eat; It is said that drinking sparerib soup can make you grow taller. He got up in the middle of the night to wash the ingredients so that I could have sparerib soup before going to school in the morning. In order to supplement more calcium, I drink a pack of fresh milk under his supervision every night before going to bed. What is even more impressive is that when the college entrance examination sprinted, my father knew that I loved chicken wings in order to strengthen nutrition. He gets up at 6 o'clock on time every day and goes to the fresh supermarket to buy fresh chicken wings and make them into various flavors for me to eat. My mother even joked that my father had never fiddled with cooking. In the year before my college entrance examination, 18 kinds of martial arts were really displayed incisively and vividly. Now every time I eat chicken wings, I will think of those years and the familiar taste; In my mind, a ray of sunshine in the morning reflected and lit up his temple. He was busy in the kitchen.

Now, I have worked and finally walked out of his world independently. The strict father has really changed too much. He seems to stop interfering or asking me anything. However, whenever I have difficulties and questions to ask him, what he still can't change is his "fault" of "talking endlessly and telling me everything". But as long as I don't ask him, my father won't take the initiative to intervene in everything I do, just occasionally say a few words of concern and greetings, and I really don't want to reply and give up. However, it was under this kind of letting go that I was really at a loss at first. Although my father's thoughts on the older generation are deeply rooted and irreversible, we can't be shrouded in the aura and protection of our elders all our lives, otherwise we will be eliminated by this moving world, out of touch with this city that keeps pace with the times, and finally we can only eat our own bitter fruit. So now, I can't just rely on how strong my father's shelter is. I want to stand up again, jump out of my father's protection and face everything in life bravely. Only in this way can we grow into our true selves in a free and easy way, which is the best reward for our father and parents.

? Memories fly, and you are like your father, and his father loves you in the same way. Looking back on your ordinary and ordinary growth process is a self-baptism and a profound and sincere understanding of fatherly love. As a child, for my parents, for.

Father is more grateful and respectful. Parents create life for us and provide us with the possibility to challenge and transform the world. In fact, their mission has been completed. My father is the guide and beacon on my growth path, and I am also very successful in my work. Because every identity is a beginning and every attempt is a new life. My father is also a father for the first time. He loves me. As his child, I am honored.

Time flies, but the memory lasts forever. I appreciate my father's love. I want to give this document to my father. He is getting old, but he is always young in my heart. I wish all fathers in the world can really love their sons, walk with their sons and set sail for their dreams!