It's cold and my arm hurts.

On a snowy day, there is such a story.

Winter is coming, and snowflakes are flying like goose feathers.

Early in the morning, I walked in the street and felt very cold.

The day before yesterday, the city ordered all kinds of advertisements and leaflets. Posted in any corner should be cleaned up. To this end, all the cleaners in the city have been dispatched and started to clean this beautiful city comprehensively.

I watched snowflakes flying all over the sky and a bunch of busy cleaners.

Inadvertently, I found some leaflets and other papers stuck on the smooth wall opposite, and an old woman cleaner was tearing them carefully. Those papers seem difficult to tear. The cleaning lady brushes them with a brush dipped in water, and then carefully tears them with her hands.

I think her hands must be cold, but she is not afraid of cold, and there is a fire in her heart.

She was very serious and cleaned several sheets of paper in succession.

She went to another house.

However, I saw that her right hand was raised, but it stopped in the air and seemed to be solidified. I saw her body getting closer to the wall again. Then I saw her shake her head slightly.

What happened? What happened? I want to know.

I saw that she looked intently for a while, and then slowly left the paper without cleaning it.

Why not clear it? Did she forget the city rules? A series of questions came to my mind.

Well, then, I think I'll take a look.

I was just about to start when I saw another thin cleaning lady coming to the newspaper office. Her behavior is exactly the same as that of the old cleaner: raising her right hand and freezing in the air; Shake your head slightly; Keep your eyes on it for a while and leave slowly.

I was more puzzled and decided to have a look.

Cross the road and come to the front of that wall. What caught my attention was the search for you. It says: Zhao Jie, female, 14 years old. ...

I finally understood everything after the doubts were solved.

Snowflakes are still flying like goose feathers, but I no longer feel cold. ...

A touching scene composition 400 words has a touching life and a sincere and pure scene; There is a moment called eternity, and a moment is very touching.

It is often said that a moment's feeling is the truest feeling.

Thousands of emotions in the world emerged at that moment.

That moment is the most wonderful, beautiful and eternal! I remember a sad story: a hunter went poaching and accidentally alarmed the wild animals. When he saw it, he was caught by it, but he was saved by a kind elephant.

The hunter was very grateful to the elephant, but he accidentally touched the elephant's ivory. Greed occupied his heart. He picked up a shotgun and aimed it at the elephant's head. At this time, the elephant looked at him innocently.

The moment the hunter pulled the trigger, I cried and my heart hurt unconsciously.

Gunshots ripped through the night sky and tore my heart.

This touching scene, I understand human greed and cruelty.

I am ashamed of such a person, and I feel unworthy of what the elephant has done.

Animals are friends of human beings, aren't they? We live the same life as them, and we have no right to deprive them of their lives.

At that moment, I seemed to see people holding shotguns, elephants lying in a pool of blood, and their eyes were full of incomprehension and doubt.

At that moment, I seemed to see the elephant stand up again. It has been laughing, laughter is full of contempt, laughter makes me shudder.

It is mocking human beings and those who do whatever it takes for money.

Although the moment of composition is very short, it flows deeply in my mind.

In fact, the beast is not terrible. What is really terrible is that human beings are addicted to money and do whatever it takes to get it.

Such human beings have no worldly desires, their blood is cold and their hearts are as hard as iron.

At the moment when the gunfire rang, I woke up and all mankind should wake up.

Our most sincere friends are calling our souls.

Can't those hard facts wake us up? ...

On a snowy day, there is a story. When winter comes, snowflakes fly like goose feathers.

Early in the morning, I walked in the street and felt very cold.

The day before yesterday, the city ordered all kinds of advertisements and leaflets. Posted in any corner should be cleaned up.

To this end, all the cleaners in the city have been dispatched and started to clean this beautiful city comprehensively.

I watched snowflakes flying all over the sky and a bunch of busy cleaners.

Inadvertently, I found some leaflets and other papers stuck on the smooth wall opposite, and an old woman cleaner was tearing them carefully.

Those papers seem difficult to tear. The cleaning lady brushes them with a brush dipped in water, and then carefully tears them with her hands.

I think her hands must be cold, but she is not afraid of cold, and there is a fire in her heart.

She was very serious and cleaned several sheets of paper in succession.

She went to another house.

However, I saw that her right hand was raised, but it stopped in the air and seemed to be solidified.

I saw her body getting closer to the wall again.

Then I saw her shake her head slightly.

What happened? What happened? I want to know.

I saw that she looked intently for a while, and then slowly left the paper without cleaning it.

Why not clear it? Did she forget the city rules? A series of questions came to my mind.

Well, then, I think I'll take a look.

I was just about to start when I saw another thin cleaning lady coming to the newspaper office.

Her behavior is exactly the same as that of the old cleaner: raising her right hand and freezing in the air; Shake your head slightly; Keep your eyes on it for a while and leave slowly.

I was more puzzled and decided to have a look.

Cross the road and come to the front of that wall.

What caught my attention was the search for you.

It says: Zhao Jie, female, 14 years old ... Once the doubts were solved, I finally understood everything.

Snowflakes are still flying like goose feathers, but I no longer feel cold. ......

There is a touching article for you. I finished reading this article with tears. I think ... it's really touching, great mother, poor child. Eye cancer is cruel. I have seen the ladder, which is also eye cancer, and I have been crying for love for a long time. However, this time it touched my heart more than watching the ladder. I burst into tears for my family. I want to go tomorrow. Say to her: Mom, I love you. I also hope that my mother can be happy, because smelly in heaven also hopes that he can be happy. I hope everyone will never lose my love and cherish the healthy and happy life around them.

Ask for a few touching compositions for the senior high school entrance examination and write about your family relationship with your parents. Be touching! There are many newly bought "300 compositions with full marks in the senior high school entrance examination", which are not available online. It seems that they are all provided by each marking group.

I couldn't help running in front of you. On a cold night in Yangzhou, the north wind roared and the indoor doors and windows shook.

Under the street lamp, snowflakes like goose feathers are flying, and they are too beautiful to say.

After dinner, my father went to the bed and squatted down, grabbed the bottom of the apple box with his hand, jerked it back and tried to pick it up, but it fell to the ground.

"Dad, what are you doing?" "Oh, you are quick to eat, finished eating, I went to visit relatives.

"I dropped my chopsticks, picked up the apple box and said," Dad, let's go.

"Father smiled, dim light, still can see the wrinkles on his face.

"Hey, dad is old, really old!" I don't know what it's like to hear this. In short, it is very strange, and the nose is inexplicably sour.

Before I knew what it was like, my father and I were already in the snow.

Walking, eyes like covered with a layer of yarn, blurred.

My mind seems to have been caught by something and I went back to the past.

In the past, I played chess with my father, and I won. My father touched my head and said, "I have grown up."

"In the past, my father and I ran together and I won. Father patted me on the shoulder and said, "I have grown up."

"In the past, my father and I went fishing together, and I won. My father pinched my nose and said, "I have grown up."

"A cold wind, I didn't return to absolute being.

The snow is still falling, as if there are endless words and feelings for Mother Earth.

I looked up and saw a layer of snow in my father's hair. I quickly put down the box, took off my hat and put it on my father's head.

"Dad, the weather is cold, you don't catch cold.

""yeah, yeah, dad will pay more attention. My son has grown up, hehe! "I don't know how to describe this kind of laughter.

It was my father's hard work that brought me healthy growth. The man in front of me gave me everything.

Under the light, my father's back was hunched, and my heart suddenly seemed to be hit by something.

I was never afraid of snow when I was a child, because my father was tall and I could hide behind him.

At this point, I have grown up, but I still follow him, and I can't help moving forward.

"Dad, windy, I walked first.

"Just go straight, that kind of sour feeling.

Now, I have grown up, and I have grown taller. I should learn to care about my father.

It's just a change of position. For a moment, I couldn't help running to you ... The highlight is the love between father and son.

This article makes people feel sad to read. My son is old, but my father is old. It's comforting to read it, and my son is sensible.

A circle of love is formed between father and son, and there is warmth between the lines.

Touching life details.

The author captures the small details of life and shows his father's "aging" and his "growth"; I am very moved to read it, and I use interpolation to integrate the past and the present to express the feeling of "I" in an instant.

Warm topic design.

The title "I can't help running in front of you" is novel and warm, which not only shows the feedback of "I" to my father, sublimates the theme of the article, but also attracts and infects readers with the action of silhouette.

Turn left | turn right | turn left | turn right.

Seeing this topic, I immediately thought of a touching article that my teacher once read to me-crazy mother.

Although the mother in the story is crazy, she is always sober when she works for her son.

I remember that this "crazy mother" learned that her son likes peaches. In order to pick those wild peaches that grow on the cliff for her son, she fell into the valley and lost her life.

When the teacher read this article, many students in our class were in tears.

We are all moved by this great maternal love.

This story is very touching, which makes us realize the selflessness and greatness of maternal love.

What my mother did to me, although not as touching as the mother in the article, made me feel a deep maternal love in the usual dribs and drabs.

I still remember a little thing in the first grade clearly.

There is no canteen in the school where I study in the first year of high school. My mother is not at ease when I go home for dinner. My mother takes meals to school every noon.

On this day, the last class, I was very hungry, and I was looking forward to my mother bringing me rice.

At the end of the class, the situation suddenly changed. It was sunny just now, and suddenly it rained cats and dogs.

When class is over, the rain is still so heavy.

I'm even hungrier, and my heart is getting more and more anxious: my mother must not send me meals in such a heavy rain. When will the rain stop? I know my mother won't come now, but I still can't help looking at the school gate.

Suddenly, I saw a figure rushing into the school gate, soaked to the skin, holding something in his hand and running quickly towards our classroom.

It's mom! It's really my mother! It was my mother who brought me rice. My mother braved the heavy rain to bring me rice.

The good words and sentences in the composition "Touched" should be used as a spring to report the years we have all experienced or are experiencing.

Some things are left behind, and some are doomed to disappear forever.

Fortunately, we remembered each other at the moment when we passed by.

If my smile illuminates you and there is a lamp on your way, then I will feel warm.

-Rao Xueman's "left ear" often comes from being remembered by others, a greeting when the weather turns cold, a comfort when you are sad, and a blessing on a sleepless night.

Leaves leave, is the pursuit of the wind or the tree does not retain.

Whether it is sunny or rainy, that feeling may be hidden in an instant.

-Xue Xiaochan, how far a person can go depends on who he walks with, whether a person is excellent or not, and who should give directions; How successful a person is depends on who he is with.

Life is hard to find, and friendship is hard to find.

But once you get it, please take care of it with your life and cherish it with your heart! Who is Hu Xian who smoothes our inner ups and downs with the calm of the lake? Who watched us sail alone with loving eyes? Who is it, embracing our emotional wandering for many years with powerful arms? When you were born, you were crying and people around you were laughing. When you died, you were laughing and everyone around you was crying! Everything is reincarnation, we are all in reincarnation! Home is the only place in the world where human shortcomings and failures are hidden, as well as sweet love.

-Bernard Shaw Years pass by inadvertently. Behind every hurried figure, my father's caring eyes are getting farther and farther, and my mother's familiar words are gradually forgotten. When you are physically and mentally exhausted, stop and read a warm story in a book, and you will have a moving heartbeat.

Everything else in the world is false and empty, and only mother is real, eternal and immortal.

The icing on the cake (India) is a buddy, a timely friend, a brother who shares weal and woe, and a confidant. However, I feel the harmonious heartbeat of the sacred unicorn. I don't have many bosom friends in my life, so you are my bosom friend.

When you are most depressed and helpless, the person who is willing to sit with you is your true friend.

Friends are relatives who are not related by blood.

No matter love or friendship, the ultimate goal is not the destination, but understanding and tacit understanding-finding someone to talk to while walking.

No matter when, what kind of mood friends see through you and still like you, friends are like pieces of puzzles, which together become a beautiful picture. If one piece is missing, it will never be complete. You are an important part I don't want to lose.

Ask for a touching article describing a father's love for his mother, and a novel is also acceptable, 9000 to 10000 words ... If a father's love is compared to a blooming lily, which exudes its charming fragrance in every corner, then a father's love is a jasmine, silently spitting its fresh fragrance in a corner! Only the greatness of maternal love has been praised, but who knows the moral of fatherly love! The word fatherly love is so ordinary, but this kind of love is so extraordinary.

A jasmine flower may not have a refreshing fragrance, but it will always make you feel fresh and elegant. Father's love is like this, as quiet as jasmine.

No matter where you are, your father's loving eyes will accompany you all your life.

I am about to enter junior high school, and my homework is heavy. Finish your homework on time, and don't finish it until 9: 10. My father often complains that I don't hurry.

I am used to finishing my homework like this. Once I wrote, it was too late, and I fell on the table.

My father woke me up and severely criticized me: "How could you do this?" ! I don't believe you have the spirit to listen tomorrow.

What's the use of not working hard until evening! How many times have I told you, but I just won't listen! "Say that finish, don't sympathize with me, and gave me a slap in the face, walked out of my room and slammed the door. What a loud voice.

I turned off the light and went to bed immediately.

I felt greatly wronged in my heart and thought, "Others can't finish their homework. What is wrong with me doing this? " Just a little procrastination. What's the matter? Can you blame me? "This slap made my tears flow like boiling water, and I always felt that my father was too unreasonable.

My father stopped talking to me, and I ignored him, often with hostile eyes.

I am very sad, and I am also very sad.

I reread those words in my memory every day and always feel that I am right.

One day, I found such a piece of paper on my desk, which read: Son, I didn't mean to hit you, but I was determined to turn iron into steel.

Other children have finished their homework and are still playing downstairs. If you study like this every day, how can your body hold up? Dad wants you to learn every minute to prevent time from passing by in a hurry, but you can't just see that little time every night.

Love your father. I saw traces of tears on that note, and I was a little shaken.

I wrote back; Dad, I didn't mean to be angry with you. It is my fault that I treated you like that.

But you must understand me.

Other people's children finish their homework quickly and then go out to play. I can't.

I know my father's good intentions.

My son, I was in tears and filled with great regret.

I stuffed this letter into my father's pocket.

At this moment, I finally realized the greatness of fatherly love.

I really want to say to my father, "Dad, I was wrong!" " "After two letters, I met my father, but I didn't know what to say.

He said to me, "Eat!" I clearly heard that I agreed, "hmm!" He left me another note: son, dad believes in you, you pursue your goal, dad doesn't ask you to do anything, as long as you feel right, just do it! I deeply felt my father's love and care for me.

Encouraged by love, I must study hard and fight this battle beautifully to repay my father's love.

(2) If maternal love is delicate, then paternal love is rough; If a mother's love is gentle as water, then a father's love is as steady as Mount Tai.

Every time I read Zhu Ziqing's back, my father's back will emerge in front of my eyes.

The father is not a great man and has never done anything to make his son proud, but he is indeed a father who makes his son proud.

I am not a son who worries my father. I am naughty and playful, and I have never understood my father's good intentions. My academic performance is a worry to him.

It was not until that incident that I completely changed.

That year, I played truant.

My truancy is because of fun and boredom.

I hid at home without saying a word, waiting for my father's stormy punishment.

I am fully prepared to respond to all this with silence.

At this moment, the door creaked and my father sat beside me with the breath of a day's work. To my surprise, he said nothing but smoked one cigarette after another, as if his words were in the misty smoke.

I stole a look at him and suddenly found that my father was old.

I have never seen my father so carefully: the traces of years climbed up his cheeks prematurely, the frosted white hair on his temples was so out of proportion to his age, and his fingers with cigarettes were shaking slightly.

Looking at dad's hands, I can't help wondering: are these dad's hands? Are these the hands that touched my little face when I was a child? I remember those hands holding me high, tickling me and laughing; I used to remember that every time those hands carried me to the back seat, they had to press hard, as if afraid that I would fall; I remember that every morning at school, when I was still sleeping, those big hands pulled me out of bed and held a bowl of hot egg noodles.

Now these hands have changed and become so rough, like old dead trees in the yard.

It's all for me, for me, my father is old! Thought of here, I shed tears unwillingly.

"Dad, I go to school tomorrow and go.

"My father's mouth moved as if to say something, but he didn't say anything. He just threw the cigarette on the ground, stepped on it with his foot and said, "go to bed early and I'll see you off tomorrow."

"Say, and went out, leaving me only a figure.

The next day, when I woke up, my father was standing in front of my bed with a bowl of hot egg noodles on the table.

Father said, "Eat, and I'll take you there later."

"I sat in the back seat of my father's bike again.

When I was a child, I often made my father bow his back like this.

But this is the first time since I grew up.

I did grow up, because my father worked too hard, and my back was a little hunched, but I think it was enough to block the cold wind blowing in front.

At that moment, my father's back became eternal.

As time went on, my father's back was not as straight as before, but slightly hunched.

I see: I have grown up, but my father is old.

After that, I stopped being tired of learning and my grades improved day by day.

Because I know I go to school with my father's responsibility.

I love my father just as my father loves me. ...

The calendar of life is torn off one by one, and your hopes are pinned one by one.

I don't know how long it's been since I visited her.

Just vaguely traces of childhood. Her face has shiny silver and traces of years.

"Ding" woke me up from my sleep with a phone call this morning, and I froze when I hung up.

I feel that the world will drown me in an instant-grandma had a car accident.

When I arrived at the hospital, she was already lying in the intensive care unit.

Tears poured out in an instant.

I followed grandpa's advice and went back to my hometown to change clothes.

It's the same old house, full of childhood flavor and memories.

Hesitated and walked to the attic.

When you walk into the bedroom, the taste of memory comes out. This is her taste.

At first glance, I saw several large calendars on the desk, which were torn to pieces.

When I walked over, I saw that the front of the calendar was very ordinary, an ordinary date, and the words on the opposite side froze me: "In February 2003, Nan Nan went home with her parents today.

""In May 2003, my darling called me today and asked me to put on more clothes.

""In July 2004, my little darling took the entrance exam today.

""In February, 2005, I saw a photo of my little darling today.

""In March, 2005, the little darling hasn't come back for three months.

""In February 2006, little darling didn't call me for a long time.

"I flipped through all the torn calendars like crazy.

The above is the detailed date and what happened between me and her. Time is up and time is up.

I can't believe it, but it hurts me to think of her writing these little by little on the table with reading glasses in front of the dim light.

How long has it been since I came back? How long has it been since I called? Is it because you are busy studying, or because you are alienated and indifferent when you grow up? And she, how to pin her hopes on these calendars and expect me to be the charming little darling when I was a child again? I packed these calendars, which were full of her hopes, and went back to the hospital.

Looking at her head wrapped in white gauze before bed, tears welled up again.

I held her hand tightly and silently prayed to God not to take her away from me.

The face on the bed is still the one that hurt me and loved me when I was a child, shining with silver, and there was silence between my eyebrows and eyes.

I quietly put the last piece of calendar paper filled with my wishes into her hand, muttering to myself, "Grandma, wake up, little darling is coming to see you, little darling won't let you count the calendar any more, wake up …" Appreciation: This is a beautiful and moving composition.

Taking the calendar as a clue, the article expresses deep love for her sick grandmother.

A variety of narrative methods make the article more layered and interesting.

The calendar on the desk is described in detail, which vividly shows grandma's love for her granddaughter.

The witty remarks at the end of the article are logical and make people cry.

...

Please indicate the source? A touching thing, composition