The story in the photo is a 600-word composition of the fourth grade.

600-word composition of the story in the photo, 5 in grade four.

The photo frame placed at the bedside is covered with a thin layer of dust because it has been there for too long. When I wipe it occasionally, I always think of those times ... The following is a 600-word composition example of the story in the photo I collected for you. I hope you like it.

Looking at the family photos hanging on the wall, I don't know why the first sight always falls on grandpa's hand.

In the photo, I am only about two years old, sitting on my grandfather's lap, biting the back of my hand and staring blankly at the camera. Grandpa put his arms around me, dark and covered with veins stood out. Even through photos, I can feel the changes in my life.

Grandpa's hands are hardworking. After retirement, he has nothing to do and is ready to farm his own land. He goes to work in the fields with a hoe on his back all day. The hoe swings up and down, up and down, and day after day, the blue veins on the back of his hand are more obvious, and his delicate skin is chapped and becomes dark and rough. It is these industrious hands that have been working nonstop in spring, summer, autumn and winter, bringing fresh and healthy green vegetables to our family. Every time I stand on the top floor and watch my grandfather working in the field, my eyes are always full of tears.

Grandpa's hands are a pair of brave hands. On New Year's Day, I set off fireworks outside the door alone. I didn't know that the fireworks would rotate and unconsciously turned to my feet. Looking at the sparkling fireworks sizzling under my feet, I subconsciously wanted to hide in the house, but it was too late. Grandpa came out of nowhere, took a big step, quickly bent down and held down the fireworks. He raised his hand, his fingers as black as charcoal. I froze in an instant with fear. He rubbed it with his other hand and smiled and said to me, "What's the matter? I have rough skin. " But I have cried.

Grandpa's hands are a pair of hands that understand the heart. Once at dinner, I didn't like all the dishes on the table, so I had to force the rice into my mouth. Grandfather seems to see my dissatisfaction. He smiled and shook his head, got up and walked into the kitchen. He weighed the pot in one hand and waved the spatula in the other, only to hear the sound of several metal collisions, and soon brought out a bowl of golden fried Flammulina velutipes. I ate this bowl of Flammulina velutipes specially made for me with tears in my eyes, which was especially delicious.

Every time I look at that old photo, my eyes fall on grandpa's hand involuntarily. That is a pair of hardworking hands, a pair of brave hands, a pair of hands that understand the heart.

The 600-word composition of the story in the photo, grade four. 2? What is this ... I'm chattering everywhere. Oh, so it's a photo. Who is the Lord hero in the photo? Look here, look here-haha! That's me! In the photo, I am laughing with a fly swatter. What happened? Listen to me ... One summer night, I was working hard at my desk. Just as I was doing it with relish, an uninvited guest came to my room in a fighter plane and had a good time in my room. I hit it impatiently and thought, well, now it's time for you to fly away. Who knows, it not only didn't run, but also turned around my head in despair and even landed boldly on my nose. I hit it with a jerk. I didn't expect not only to miss, but also to hit my face, which made me scream. It was like a fuse, which suddenly ignited my anger. I thought to myself: the tiger is not arrogant, just think of me as a sick cat.

I strode to the living room, looking for the fly swatter carefully. I don't know how long it took, but I didn't even see the shadow of the mosquito swatter. Mosquitoes dangled in front of my eyes as if laughing at me. I thought to myself: forget it, I'm a big man, so I won't haggle with you. I sat on the sofa in dismay. Huh? Why is it so difficult? I drew a big question mark in my heart. I got up and looked, haha! This is a fly swatter mosquito. I must destroy you this time! I raised the fly swatter angrily. But mosquitoes have long since disappeared. Angry, I didn't give up. I looked around and found it resting in a small corner. I smiled and crept past. With a lightning slap, the mosquito died. I kept waving the mosquito swatter, like waving the flag of victory, and only heard a "crack", which was recorded by my mother's camera forever. ...

There are many interesting things in childhood, which are recorded with a click. Open the photo album and have a look later, and a series of good memories will reappear, so happy and interesting!

The 600-word composition of the story in the photo, grade four, part three, I was reading that day. This one was taken when I went to Huashan, and that one was taken when I went to Jiulong Mountain. I turned over one by one, laughing nonstop. At the last photo, an "old" photo with the most exquisite seal and a little yellow came into my sight.

I carefully took this photo out of the album. The little girl in the photo looks like me. I asked my mother, and she said, "This was when you were a child! Don't you remember? "

I shook my head. I really don't remember taking such a photo. In the photo, I am wearing a pink shirt, sweatpants, sneakers and bangs that I can't shake off. This hairstyle, haha, looks like Nezha.

What makes me laugh even more is my timid expression, and I can't help laughing. Mom said, "This is your first time to take photos in a photo studio. Don't you dare to go in, hold the cupboard at the front desk. Finally, I managed to coax you into taking pictures. As soon as the lights went dark, you ran out in fear. This made the photographer laugh. We all wonder, don't all children like taking pictures? Why were you so afraid of taking pictures at that time? Finally, we thought about the reason, probably because you are afraid of the dark. "

My brother often uses this photo to tease me. He always said that taking this photo was my "peak". Just say it, I don't care. I suspect that the "photo studio incident" should be the only "worry" when I was a child. I like taking pictures now, but I can't go out often because of my study. Now that I think about it, my childhood is really enviable

The only thing that puzzles me is that this photo is so old, why should I keep it? Mom said that although the photo is old, it will never be old during that time. Mom said it would take twenty years for ten cars to be taken out.

I gently put the photos into the album, so let this time be treasured in the album forever!

What was I like when I was young? Big eyes or small eyes? I found a box of photo albums from the closet and wanted to look back at my newborn appearance. I pulled out one of them, which was the first photo album of my life.

Ha! I am so cute in the photo! He has a chubby face and a round body. Look! I was sleeping, my mom teased me, my dad hugged me, took a shower, chewed my fingers, sat ... Dad, a photographer, recorded my every tiny change with a camera.

Turning it over, I suddenly saw a special photo and I was attracted by it. That's the only photo in the album where I cry! I saw my sister helplessly holding my bald head in her hand and sitting on the tram in the park. What about me? You look like you're going to cry, but you haven't completely cried yet. What injustice have I suffered? It should be fun to ride in a sedan chair, right? Did dad want to make me cry on purpose? I had to find out, so I decided to ask my mother.

My mother kindly told me the story in this photo: I was only six months old at that time, because my parents had been busy with work and didn't have time to take me to the park to take pictures. It happened that my parents were resting that day and decided to take my cousin and me to the park to take some photos as a souvenir. They happily took me to Gong Yuan, but I slept well and slept all the time. They are anxious for me to wake up soon. In order to wake me up, they used all kinds of tricks-grabbing the soles of my feet and pinching my nose ... Finally, I stretched and kicked my calf before I woke up.

Dad quickly opened the lens cover, and my mother quickly let my sister sit in the sedan chair, and then gave me to my sister. But when I saw the Monkey King, I thought it was a big monster. I was so scared that I didn't sit in the sedan chair and tried to get rid of my sister's hand. One moment my mother told me a story, and the other moment she made me laugh with a toy ... but I totally ignored them, and I was very hungry before I knew it. They were still teasing me, and I don't know why I didn't want to take pictures.

I finally couldn't help it. When my mouth was flat and my nose was wrinkled, Jin Doudou came out of my eyes and looked at my mother with injustice. "e-e-e-e-e-e" alarmed my mother, and my father thought I was crying so badly that he quickly "clicked!" Took this picture of me crying. Or when my mother knew me and wanted to breastfeed me, I fell asleep in my mother's arms. My father was very interested and wanted to pose for me and take more photos as a souvenir, but I ignored them and slept. Finally, they came happily and went home disappointed. My mother said that my father still couldn't put down his camera when he got home. He said, "I didn't take a picture of my daughter today."

After hearing this story, I couldn't help laughing. I couldn't cooperate. It seems that there is a good story in every photo.

Photo 600-word composition of the fifth story in grade four I have an old black and white photo at home. There are three children and my grandparents on it. This photo was taken about twenty or thirty years ago. The corners have been damaged and the picture has turned yellow. Twenty or thirty years, after countless migrations, countless ups and downs, countless spring, summer, autumn and winter, it is a miracle that it can still be completely preserved.

In the photo, grandpa is still so serious, like a king, in power, examining his country; Next to him is his wife, that is, my grandmother, smiling and seemingly full of infinite hope for life. Her clear eyes are like deep pools under the moon. Those three children are menstruating, my mother and my uncle. My uncle is still a baby, snuggling in my grandmother's arms; Mom and menstruation stand in front. Behind it is a golden rice field. This is a simple black and white photo, showing such a beautiful home.

The grandmother in the photo is very dignified and young and beautiful. I was so shocked. Now my grandmother's face is full of wrinkles and weather-beaten. Grandma's bright black hair has now become dull, leaving only wisps of silver. Grandma's plump lips are dry now. Grandma's gentle and slender hands became rough. Changed, everything changed, grandma's beautiful face changed with the passage of time, but her selfless love for her children grew with the extension of time. I still admire grandma's love, immortal fire and immortal heart.

As a wife, grandma is a good wife. Grandpa used to be a doctor in the county, and he was usually very busy. Grandma supported the family with hard work and sweat. She not only has to take care of three children, but also works hard. I really admire grandma's vivid life.

As a mother, grandma is a good mother. In winter, grandma is afraid that her children will catch cold. In the middle of the night, grandma sewed clothes to make a cotton-padded jacket in the dim candlelight, and she didn't feel hard. Whenever a child is ill, grandma always carries him on her back and runs miles to see a doctor. Grandma will pay too much for her children, too much! What is this? What? Let her pay so much for her children so willingly? I think we will all be surprised, but only as mothers can we feel this dull responsibility.

I respect this woman in the photo. No, this great mother is my grandmother whom I admire.