The voice left in my heart 10 Henan senior high school entrance examination composition

Voice left in my heart: Henan senior high school entrance examination composition (10)

Everyone has a voice in his heart, so how to write the composition of Henan senior high school entrance examination? The following are 10 compositions for the voices that everyone keeps in mind, which are for reference only and like to collect and share!

The voice left in my heart 1 It's a little cold in the autumn morning. Walking on the cold path adds more melancholy and loneliness to my heart. The reeds by the river are swaying in the wind, so beautiful and so cold that I can't help but catch my sight and go straight ahead.

I was enjoying it when suddenly the reed disappeared, which made me a little confused. At this time, I don't know what tripped me and fell to the ground at once. Before I came to my senses, the scene in front of me stunned me! I saw the roots left by sawing trees in front! Never seen such a scene! I plucked up my courage and walked carefully on this desolate land.

Suddenly, a sad cry broke the silence and disturbed my thoughts. Looking up at the front, I vaguely saw the shadow of a tree, looking for the sound of singing, and I slowly ran to the tree.

Finally, I walked to the tree, crying more and more sadly, and I couldn't help but spread my sadness. Looking up, I found a bird's nest on the branch with two chickens in it! Why do they make such a sad cry? Why do I cry more when I get closer to them?

At that time, I just thought wailing was terrible. Hit the young heart again and again, straight to the bottom of my heart. Now that I think about it, isn't it their fear and disgust for me? It is human beings who have destroyed their beautiful homes and filled them with fear ... Perhaps only the rising sun can warm their fragile hearts!

For many years, the sound of sorrow and joy is still clear in my heart. I don't know why, but I still feel a little guilty. On Arbor Day that year, I bought a small sapling and planted it on the grass in my hometown with my parents. Every time I look at that sapling, I will think of the shock I have seen before, and the voice that stays in my heart will reverberate in my ears for a long time.

The sound left in my heart is like a cloth splashed with ink outside the window, so quiet that a silver needle can be heard when it falls to the ground. The only light in the room is my desk lamp, and I'm still leafing through books to prepare for tomorrow's midterm exam.

"Dadada", echoing in the silent room, is the vicissitudes of footsteps. When I got up to open the door, I saw grandma's old and surprised eyes. She looked at me affectionately and turned to her deep concern for me. I thought you were hungry, so I brought you something to eat. Grandma's hand is hot porridge, which has a different luster in the dim environment. "Thank you, grandma. I'm not hungry. I read for a while and then go to bed. " Say that finish, grandma some lost in the vicissitudes of life.

Deep sleepiness came to me. I closed my political book and planned to read it before the exam. I won't take it tomorrow anyway. I trudged to the bedroom and curled up in the quilt to get ready for sleep, but I always felt something was missing. When I was sleepy, I heard the footsteps of vicissitudes of life, which was grandma's footsteps. In the silent night, the voice is getting louder and louder, and the voice is as light as if it doesn't want to break the crystal-pure tranquility. Footsteps are getting farther and farther. I think grandma saw that I was asleep and went back to my room to sleep.

Who knows how many times Grandma visited me back and forth, how many times Grandma worried about me, and how many down-to-earth steps Grandma reduced for me ... Suddenly I found that I couldn't catch up with Grandma's footsteps and my thoughts drifted away. ...

Because my parents have been busy with work and have no time to take care of me, my grandmother is with me every day. She took me to various parks, and I was led by her warm hand, following her vicissitudes: after school, grandma took me home, as if it were a child's innocence. I imitated my grandmother's old and heavy steps: after I went to middle school, my grandmother came to tell me every night ... how could I forget? It was grandma's vicissitudes that accompanied me to grow up.

I fell down on the warm bed made by my grandmother, and gradually fell asleep listening to her footsteps. In the future, I will make grandma's footsteps lighter because of my help.

The sound left in my heart just rang, just as the students were leaving the classroom, the class teacher rushed in and said, "There will be a science and technology competition in the whole city next month, and interested students will sign up with me." Say that finish quickly leave.

My deskmate patted me and asked me if I was interested. "You like science so much, why don't you give it a try?" Indeed, I have always liked scientific knowledge and learned a lot. But my grades are average and I'm not very confident.

The next day, I thought about it and decided to give it a try because of the encouragement of my deskmate. I went to the teacher to sign up. When I left, the teacher patted me on the shoulder: "You can do it!" " "Just when I was full of confidence, several classmates around me immediately poured cold water on me." Did you sign up? Are you sure you can pass the audition? Let's recite the English words first ... "Those people's faces are full of disdain at the same time, and several people in the science and technology group think that my failure is beyond doubt." Why can't I? "A voice in my heart questioned. I remember my parents once said, "The more people question you, the more you have to prove yourself with your own actions. "

Because of my initial dream, I faced the doubts of my classmates, but the most important thing was the encouragement of teachers and parents. Their words are the voice in my heart. This voice represents hope and encouragement and inspires me to cheer up.

Therefore, I use my spare time to learn some extracurricular scientific knowledge, but in fact, the most important thing is that I have accumulated a lot since I was a child.

Until the day of the actual selection, the participating students filled the whole classroom, but I stayed in the last corner. Remembering the trust of my deskmate, the encouragement of my teacher and the voice in my heart made me sit on the court with more confidence.

Finally, I really got the qualification to represent the school. When my former classmates who doubted me came to congratulate me, I really believed that I really had the strength.

The teacher looked at me with relief and said, "My encouragement is that I hope you can do your best, believe in yourself, and you really prove that you can do it."

On my way to school, I happened to see a small wild flower in the grass. I thought to myself, even in the face of encouragement or doubt, I should believe in myself, believe in my dreams, believe in the voice I left in my heart and bloom my most beautiful flowers.

The voice in my heart on September 4th, late summer and early autumn, is the beginning of a year. The cold weather, the yellowing leaves and the decreasing temperature were so clear on that summer night. I walked on a quiet path, and the moonlight fell through the gap where the leaves were still thick. I fell in love with this land lightly and carefully. A breeze, mottled shadows.

I spent the whole summer in the sound of cicadas, almost ignoring the noisy sound. However, at this moment, I really feel the song of this cicada. For the first time, I found that the sound was not so noisy. Is it because summer is over and their lives are coming to an end? I don't know. But at that moment, I couldn't help but stop, close my eyes and feel the sounds of nature and life with my heart.

These little creatures seem to be more and more excited and louder. At first, only a few cicadas had clear voices. Later, more and more partners joined in. One, two, three ... too many, it seems that hundreds of cicadas have merged into this music stream! That voice is getting louder and louder, more and more passionate! Among the trees, crickets are accompanied; In the breeze, green leaves dance for them! These little creatures seem to vent their accumulated strength all summer without reservation to play the last hymn of their lives!

At that moment, my heart was shocked.

Nearby is a solo like a torrent, and in the distance is a cautious and quiet like a dragonfly. I can feel all the power of nature at this moment. The gestation, germination, growth and withering of life ... In this cycle, life is a cycle with no end and no beginning. At this moment, everything in the world seems to have lost its color, only nature and life are eternal!

Listen, this is the voice of nature! Listen, this is the voice of life!

The night is still as quiet as ever, and the heat of summer gradually fades away, but the sound of the intersection of life remains in my heart for a long time. ...

There is such a voice that I will never forget; There is such a voice that shocks the soul; There is such a voice that composes the eternal hymn of life. This is the voice of nature.

The voice left in my heart has a voice in my heart, which is beautiful and pleasant to listen to. Like clear spring water, Ding Dong Ding Dong flows in my heart; Like a crisp bird song, I sing the song of life in my heart; Just like the rain after spring, it left a happy note in my heart. The sound comes from a cicada.

It was a noon in early summer, and my father and I went to his office to do our homework. Because I am young and ignorant, I have been lazy in my studies. I did my homework for a while and felt bored. Suddenly, a hoarse voice broke my silence. I know it's a cicada. Then, cicadas sing like a rushing stream, excited and excited, and then cut through the sky. Guided by the song of this cicada, the other cicada responded immediately. They seem to be calling for friends, and they are singing in harmony.

That was the first time I became curious about cicadas. I turned my head and asked my father, "What is a cicada like?" Dad just smiled and said nothing. I have to keep listening to cicadas. After a while, dad said he went out for a smoke. I said casually, oh. It was about half an hour before my father came back. There seems to be something hiding behind him. Curious, I skipped behind my father to find out, but it turned out to be a paper box. But there seems to be a sound in that paper box.

The voice is weak and intermittent, like a baby crying. When I tried to distinguish carefully, the sound came to an abrupt end again. At this moment, I suddenly realized that the sound came from cicadas.

It is really a cicada! I opened the box excitedly. That was the first time I saw cicadas! I dare not let my father take the cicada out, but why doesn't the cicada sing? Dad said it might not adapt, and it will sing soon. However, I have been fiddling with it, and it has been silent, just not letting go of its voice.

I don't know how long it took, but the carton still didn't make a sound. I was angry, so I put it in a paper box and hung it on the windowsill, and never looked at it again.

I went on doing my homework. When I remembered, I found that the paper box I had forgotten was empty. Then I listened to it again and felt that there was another sound in the cicada singing outside the window. I closed my eyes and listened to the cicada's voice wholeheartedly, and immediately felt that it was the sound of nature, because cicada was free.

So you can catch cicadas, but you can't catch cicadas.

I can't help thinking of myself, am I also a cicada, bound by whom, without freedom, happiness and a happy song? I pushed away the homework on the desk and said to my father, "You arrested me!" " "

Dad looked up at me doubtfully and said, "What?" I said angrily, "I am the cicada you caught!" " "I heard that, dad's eyes stared, and then with a panic. Then I heard my father say, "You know what? Cicada has to go through three or four years of darkness underground before it can break through the ground. But once the cicada is born, it will endure the pain of cicada slough and sing loudly for the short summer life. You are a cicada, too. All your efforts now are to break through the ground! "

I didn't understand my father's teachings at that time. When I grow up, I gradually understand that cicadas will not complain because of the darkness of three or four years, because they will win a hundred days of light; Nor will it grieve for the short song, because it has the song of life.

Summer solstice and autumn death, cicadas sing loudly, just to show people the value of life and tell people the joy of life. I will also win my own summer, and I will sing my Song Like's Cicada: I will sing loudly for my short summer! This is my heart, and it is a declaration that I have left in my heart.

The voice I remember in my heart, her voice is very sweet, but she is a strict person, and that sweetness is naturally more serious.

She is my cousin.

I have been to her house many times. Every time I go, she will ask me about my recent grades. I know, this is her concern for me. Because her grades are so good, I feel a sense of inferiority every time I talk about her grades.

She is never vague about her studies.

I remember what she said the most: "Never be complacent because others are temporarily frustrated." This is her motto.

Maybe it's because of her influence Every time I see the person in front of me fall behind me, I have an inexplicable fear. Because I know that this failure is only their abnormal performance, and they will only work harder in the future. If I indulge in this victory, I will be dumped by them next time.

She's, uh, really great. She said to me: "In fact, everyone will have a kind of self-confidence. If you think that you have lost after being surpassed several times, then you really won't succeed. "

I am in a confused period now, I don't know anything, and I will only worry about being surpassed all day. Facing the classmates in front of me, I feel even more out of reach. There is really a feeling of special insecurity. I am afraid that I will fall down carelessly and fail carelessly.

Maybe I'm still looking for confidence. But I believe that when I am truly confident, I will be better than now.

Her voice, deeply in my heart, gave me confidence, gave me the direction to work hard, and made me try my best to be myself.

The voice left in my heart: composition 7 of Henan senior high school entrance examination "Grandma, grandma, let's go there during the Chinese New Year!" I ..... "Hidden in the heart of that sentence and pharynx back.

It is located at the foot of a rugged mountain, next to the crystal-clear lake, perhaps because it was irrigated by the lake, or because it absorbed the aura of heaven and earth. It is thick and lush. The fruit of this jujube tree contains one beautiful memory after another of my childhood.

I always like to put two small benches under the jujube tree after lunch and pester my grandmother to tell me stories about her childhood. My grandmother wants to tell me a story to put me to sleep. As a result, the more I listened, the more energetic I became, and I couldn't sleep at all. I won't stop until my stomach turns back. At this time, grandma led me with a tool: a bamboo basket. A long bamboo pole. Grandma stood on tiptoe and bumped into it. I was at the bottom and followed. In a short time, the dates will overflow.

Grandma took the dates from my hand, walked to the lake, skillfully soaked the basket in water, shook it three times and fished it up.

Grandma always unhurriedly picked the biggest and reddest dates and handed them to my mouth. If I think it's delicious, I will jump around my grandmother. My grandmother will laugh when she looks at me so happy. If I don't feel delicious, I will spit it out quickly, cover my mouth with my hand and say, "bah." Grandma looked at me like that and came over and scraped my nose and said, "You smelly girl." Said, handfuls of me into my arms, took off the sweet dates to coax me.

Before dinner, grandma took me to the vegetable garden to pick vegetables. However, she never let me into the vegetable garden. She always keeps me in front of the vegetable garden. She said she was afraid that I would be bitten by insects. As for me, I obediently watched my grandma walking around picking. After picking vegetables, we walked home along the field path. Grandma always hums a little song and shakes my little hand from time to time.

The sun sets and the mountains echo with our laughter.

We weave brooms, choose vegetables and wash vegetables ... every day is extraordinarily fulfilling.

Now, my grandmother and I both live in other places. My grandmother calls me every week to chat and recall stories of my childhood. My grandmother said that she missed me very much. I know she really wants me to tell her that I miss her too. But I'm embarrassed to say it. I keep all these childhood memories in my mind and everything I want to say in my heart. But grandma always understands me. She will always be the one who can hear my voice in my heart.

But at the moment, I want to tell my grandmother loudly: "I ... I miss the wonderful childhood I spent with you, I miss that jujube tree, that vegetable garden, I miss my hometown, and I miss you more."

Speak the voice left in your heart, let the world hear your voice, and make your heart warm.

The voice left in my heart, the voice of moaning, has always stayed in my heart, occasionally giving me a strong shock.

It's a little cold in autumn morning. Walking on the cold path adds more melancholy and loneliness to my heart. The reeds by the river are swaying in the wind, so beautiful and so cold that I can't help but catch my sight and go straight ahead.

I was enjoying it when suddenly the reed disappeared, which made me a little confused. At this time, I don't know what tripped me and fell to the ground at once. Before I came to my senses, the scene in front of me stunned me! I saw the roots left by sawing trees in front! Never seen such a scene! I plucked up my courage and walked carefully on this desolate land.

Suddenly, a sad cry broke the silence and disturbed my thoughts. Looking up at the front, I vaguely saw the shadow of a tree, looking for the sound of singing, and I slowly ran to the tree.

Finally, I walked to the tree, crying more and more sadly, and I couldn't help but spread my sadness. Looking up, I found a bird's nest on the branch with two chickens in it! Why do they make such a sad cry? Why do I cry more when I get closer to them?

At that time, I just thought wailing was terrible. Hit the young heart again and again, reaching the bottom of my heart. Now that I think about it, isn't it their fear and disgust for me? It is human beings who have destroyed their beautiful homes and filled them with fear ... Perhaps only the rising sun can warm their fragile hearts!

For many years, the sound of sorrow and joy is still clear in my heart. I don't know why, but I still feel a little guilty. On Arbor Day that year, I bought a small sapling and planted it on the grass in my hometown with my parents. Every time I look at that sapling, I will think of the shock I have seen before, and the voice that stays in my heart will reverberate in my ears for a long time.

The voice left in your heart 9 When you do a good deed, have you ever heard the voice in your heart? When you see those who are suffering, do you hear the voice in your heart? Let me ask you, when you see begging old people and poor orphans, is your heart shocked?

That day, I was walking in the street and saw an old man stumbling on the road. Suddenly, two "yellow hairs" rushed out from behind, knocked the old man aside and cursed while running: "Old _ dead, what's wrong with being idle!" An old man sitting on the roadside crying. ...

Similarly, in the same place, I saw a teenager helping an old woman cross the road. I remembered what I saw last time. I froze. I want to ask-it is the same flower of the motherland. Why is the difference so big?

I saw a picture in the newspaper: a dirty little hand trembled and reached for the donation box. Its owner is a street child carrying a sack. What do you think we did? Have we ever done even a little kindness?

After the last Wenchuan earthquake, my friends and I went to Taihe Commercial Building, where donations were being made. A hand reached into the donation box. Those hands have the hands of experienced workers, young white-collar workers and old people with blue veins standing out. There is also a three-or four-year-old child, who was held by his mother and came to the donation box. He broke his small storage jar and respectfully picked up every coin. I think they all heard the voice in their hearts at this moment.

When can I hear heartfelt cheers: good job! The people in the disaster area will definitely thank you! We saw that beautiful "angel"-kindness. As long as we act, everyone has the opportunity to hear the voice from the bottom of my heart!

The voice left in my heart is invisible and intangible, and I can only feel it with my heart. There are many different voices in my heart.

The parrot's voice has always been hidden in my heart, which was accumulated when I was a child. I remember buying a parrot with green feathers at home. I didn't know it would "talk" at that time. Occasionally, when I play with it, I will talk to myself. I didn't expect it to be repeated to me. Its voice took root in my young mind, because at that time I always naively thought that my parrot was the embodiment of the elf and was sent by my fairy sister to accompany me. Thus, the parrot's voice became the first beautiful voice in my heart, and it grew with me.

With the growth of age, the voices become more and more diverse.

The second thing that impressed me was my father's voice. When I was in the fourth grade, I did badly in the math exam once, and I was afraid to take it home to my parents for fear of being scolded. But the test paper had to be signed by my parents, so after some ideological struggle, I finally signed my name by imitating their handwriting. Later, my father found out. He didn't scold me, but told me the truth sincerely. One sentence touched me the most: "Be true to yourself and face your achievements bravely." My father's magnetic voice is imprinted in my heart and has always inspired me. Since then, I have never made a similar mistake.

The third voice, which I "heard" on TV during the Wenchuan earthquake in 2008, was a little girl holding her mother and crying and shouting "Mom". The heartbreaking voice gave me a deeper understanding of love and affection.

In the course of more than ten years' life, I have heard many voices, and only these three impressive voices have left a mark of growth in my heart, which I will remember all my life!