How to write the composition "News around us"

This is an unfortunate woman. On a stormy night, an accident car knocked her off the zebra crossing and escaped in the boundless darkness. She is very lucky. The green life channel of traffic accidents made her get the best medical treatment in the first time, and she had no worries about medical expenses. She has been in a coma since she was admitted to the hospital. The doctor said: her brain nerve has been damaged, and she may never wake up. She is pregnant. Because of the need of treatment, we should consider induced labor! When she transferred from neurology to obstetrics and gynecology, the doctor couldn't make up his mind to perform the operation. The fetus in her belly is not only developing normally, but also some vital indicators are higher than those of the fetus in the same period. It is a miracle! ! !

Her life story is also a mystery. Where did she come from? Where are you going? Who did she meet in her hurried journey, who was the father of the child in her womb, and what was the story? As long as she is not awake, she will never know whether his life before the accident was happy or sad.

Time passed day by day in her coma, and finally one day she was pushed into the delivery room, and then the doctor proudly announced that this 5 kg baby boy was extremely healthy! The nurse brought the child to her. They think that although the mother is a vegetable, she should let the mother and son meet. With the baby's instinctive sucking, mother's face appeared all kinds of impulses, and her chest was wet! Milk is secreted bit by bit. From then on, whenever the wet nurse brought the baby to nurse him, she would have this happy expression on her face, and sometimes she would whisper something, just like a happy mother singing to her child.

Three months later, the children were fed in turn, and she finally passed away peacefully. The weight at admission was 12 1 kg, 86 kg postpartum, and only 63 kg before death. She conceived and nurtured the child with her own flesh and blood! I could have left after giving birth, but I was afraid that my child would be lonely and insisted on accompanying him on the road of life for a period of time. Later, we bought her a cheap cemetery without her name and her life. There is only one line on the simple tombstone: a woman shining with maternal love!

Is there a beautiful language that can express maternal love? I don't think so.

Is there a magic ruler to measure maternal love? I don't think so.

I read a newspaper that a massive mudslide destroyed four villages in meigu county, Sichuan Province last June, and instantly swallowed up more than 150 lives. A young mother, although her thigh was crushed by a rock, stood in a waist-deep mudslide for more than four hours with only a few big babies in her hands. She persisted until the early hours of the morning, and when the rescuers came, the baby was unscathed!

Tears ran down my cheeks when I read this report. In the misty eyes, there seems to be a sculpture standing in front of us, surrounded by sacred light, that is our mother! It is the maternal light of Chinese mothers that surrounds her!

I once read an article in Reader magazine: In the "7.3 1" air crash in Nanjing, almost all the passengers on the plane were killed, but a baby girl named Dany miraculously survived. It turned out that at the moment of the plane crash, Dany's mother Gong Hongmei held the child tightly in her arms and blocked the rocky foreign bodies and flames with her body. Gong Hongmei exchanged her own death for the life of Little Dany. The mother held her daughter tightly, and the rescuers made great efforts to save little Dany.

A few years ago, when I was a primary school student, I read this article, but I will never forget the shock it caused in my heart! With tears in my eyes, I thought about an age-inappropriate question: what is maternal love? It seems that from this moment on, I found the answer.

One day, my brother copied me a poem entitled "A bowl of rice with oil and salt": The day before yesterday/I came home from school/there was a bowl of rice with oil and salt in the pot. There wasn't a bowl of rice with oil and salt in the pot yesterday/when I came home from school. /Today/I came home from school/fried a bowl of rice with oil and salt/put it in front of my mother's grave.

Glancing at this little poem, I am still in a state of ignorance. When I read this little poem carefully for the second time, my tears came down. For such a mother who has to prepare a bowl of oil and salt rice for her children in the last days of her life, and for such a mother who tries her best to give her children warmth and love in poverty and bitterness. Through the biting wind and rain, I seem to see that there is a poor and great mother like Qian Qian in thousands of poor villages in Qian Qian, Qian Qian!

Like many classmates, I grew up under the care of my mother. Maybe it's because I have too much, and I can't appreciate the preciousness of maternal love. Until my mother left me to work in a distant place, until I left my hometown to study in a vocational school, leaving me away from my parents for a long time. During that time, whenever I saw my roommate and visiting mother happily get together, I would quietly hide aside.

Maternal love is the greatest in the world.