Composition: traces of concern in my heart

The trace of concern in my heart? Huanggang candidates? Now, my heart has been worried about the corridor next to my grandmother's house, and my closest grandmother and grandfather live next to the corridor. However, I have forgotten the paradise of love. ? I spent my childhood at my grandmother's house. At that time, every summer, my grandparents often led me to the corridor, found a seat in the crowd, put down the cold chair, sat down happily and enjoyed the cool in the corridor together. At that time, the corridor was very hot, just like the empty ping in the courtyard of Beijing quadrangle. The corridor is ventilated all around, and it feels particularly cool in summer. At that time, my favorite thing was to sit next to my grandmother and listen to her stories. Grandma gave me a cattail leaf fan and told me the story of seeing Japanese devils when she was a teenager. These are my favorites. As for me, while drinking sweet wine and making eggs, I feel indescribable comfortable listening to these wonderful stories. My grandfather always smiles and sits next to me, watching me chat with my grandmother. Slowly, with some knowledge in my mind, I love to argue with my grandmother. Grandma has never read a book. She always said that the sky is round and the earth is square, but I argued with her that the earth is round and the sky has no boundaries. She is an adult, and I always can't beat her, which makes my young mind very unwilling. ? Later, when I grew up, I learned a lot of knowledge that my grandmother didn't know, and I also learned all kinds of new things. I gradually feel that my grandmother is ignorant and I don't want to go to her house. I know that as long as I go, she will tell stories about those Japanese devils. I can recite all these things backwards. ? On the first day of May Day holiday last year, grandma called me to visit her home the next day. I said "hmm" casually, but I didn't want to go at all the next day and played video games in my own house. The next night, grandma called and eagerly asked me if I was sick. She said she waited for me in the corridor all day, but she didn't see me. She was worried to death. My heart trembled. Am I going too far? ? On the third day, I went to my grandmother's house. Walking into the long-lost corridor, there are no children, only some old people, alone. Watch in the hallway. When they saw me, they were as happy as if their children had come back. At this time, grandma has already greeted me. She pulled me and asked, "How are you, son?" "hmm." I smiled and nodded. Then I heard an old voice: "My grandson hasn't come for a long time." I was really shocked by the sound. ? This corridor, once full of laughter and happiness, is now full of old people's loss. All the children who grew up here have disappeared. I looked at my faltering grandmother, and suddenly my heart ached: Look at what I have done before-leaving an old man hopelessly in the corridor, but using false excuses to perfunctory an old man's expectations. I broke the heart of someone who loves me. Is it a crime? ? "Come in, it's cold and the ground is cold." Grandma called me when she saw me still standing in the corridor in a daze. I said loudly, "Grandma, I know that the earth is square and the sky is round." Grandma gave me a look and smiled proudly: "Yes, how could I be wrong!" "