A 500-word essay about people! ! ! ! ! ! !

My grandma and I have been living together.

My grandma is a middle school teacher. She has a pair of piercing eyes under her black eyebrows. She is not tall and her slightly fat body is always busy. Grandma is an extremely serious and responsible person, and I admire her very much.

Grandma is over fifty years old, but she still cares about her students. Students come to her for big or small problems, and she always helps them. I remember one night last winter, the biting cold wind kept blowing. As soon as my grandma and I fell asleep, we heard a knock on the door. When the door opened, it turned out to be a student. The student said: "Teacher, one of our classmates who lives on campus is sick. Our teacher is not here. Can you please go and have a look?" Without saying a word, grandma put on her clothes and left. It wasn't until after 4 o'clock in the morning that grandma came back with her tired body. Looking at her face that was purple from the cold, I touched her cold hands and asked: "Grandma, are you cold?" Grandma smiled and said, "Do something for the students. What does it matter if you are cold?" Grandma's words Stay deeply in my memory.

Grandma cares about her students in every possible way, but she has no time to take care of her own body. Every night, grandma prepares lessons until late at night. Sometimes I wake up and say to grandma distressedly: "Grandma, it's time for you to go to bed." But grandma says: "Go to sleep. We have to go to school tomorrow. I don't prepare lessons seriously. How will I teach the students tomorrow?" I didn't want to interrupt grandma's thoughts anymore and nodded helplessly. Looking at her growing white hair, my eyes became moist. Unconsciously I fell into sleep. In the dream, I saw my grandma. She was holding flowers in her hands, facing a group of children, with a happy smile on her face... In the blink of an eye, I became a people's teacher, following in my grandma's footsteps.

I have a good father

My father is a man of few words. When he was with his mother, he would always hear his mother talking non-stop. His father would just smoke and occasionally respond, which was mostly just one or two words. When guests came to the house, my father would accompany them to dinner, and he would neither let them drink nor persuade them to eat. It seems very impolite to only care about yourself and eat your own food. The same goes for us kids. He rarely interferes with our studies. He thinks that learning is our own business. If you ask him a question, he also says you should ask the teacher.

My father is a farmer, but in many ways he does not look like a true farmer in my eyes. My father finished elementary school and dropped out of junior high school due to poverty in the second grade. Then he and several companions ran to Baotou without telling his grandparents, and attended technical secondary school there for two years. Later, the school was disbanded due to the three-year natural disaster in the 1960s, and my father returned home and continued to be a farmer. My father could write very good calligraphy. If any family in the village had weddings or weddings, he would be respectfully invited to be the accountant and keep track of members and so on. During the Spring Festival, my father was even more busy. The villagers all sent big red paper to my house early and asked my father to write Spring Festival couplets. Often before the Spring Festival arrives, my house is already filled with a festive atmosphere. I learned calligraphy when I was young, and my father asked me to learn to write letters to my uncle in Shandong. What format, how to call it, how to sign it, my father taught me step by step. Although I like his calligraphy, I haven't been able to practice calligraphy for a long time, and even now I still have no form or form. I would go home and drink with my father until I was happy. My father would always point at me and say, "You are the only one who is still a teacher in the Chinese Department, but your writing is not as good as a farmer like me." I could only smile and nod.

My father is a book lover. Every time he goes out, he always puts a book in his bag. If there is really nothing to read, I will bring a few newspapers with me. I remember that the books my father bought personally included the three-volume "Water Margin" published in 1975, the two volumes of "Stories of the Eastern Zhou Dynasties", "Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio" and "Three Words" by Feng Menglong. During the off-farm season, while men from other families would play cards or gamble, my father would sit on the kang and read a book. On rainy and snowy days, I read books all day long. My father's eyesight has been dazzled in the past two years. He bought himself a pair of spectacles and never forgot to read. Sometimes I take a closer look and see that the old man really looks like a scholar. When I returned home during the summer vacation this year, I rummaged through my bookcases and found a set of "Wonderful Views of Modern and Ancient Times" written by Old Man Baoweng in the Ming Dynasty. It was printed during the Daoguang period of the Qing Dynasty, but unfortunately one volume was missing. I said to him, give me this book. My father said okay, I couldn’t see anymore because I was dazzled. My father often said to me with emotion: "During the Cultural Revolution, all the books your grandfather left behind when he was a private school teacher were burned as firewood when I was cooking, for fear of getting into trouble. Otherwise they would be worth money now." I am also very emotional. Fortunately, our generation will not catch up with the era of "book burning" again.

Among the three children in my family, my father loves me the most. He says that I can sit still and be content. In winter, I ran around on the streets all day long, sweating all over my body, and the cotton pants I wore were so hot that they got wet. Before getting up in the morning, my father always lit the stove early, then turned my cotton trousers over with his hands, and moved them closer to the stove to bake them little by little, shaking them slowly while roasting. After a while, I saw the cotton trousers on the stove. A wisp of heat rises. After the baking is finished, my father will use his two pairs of big hands to rub the cotton pants to make them soft. When I put it on again, I felt very warm. My father is a restless person. He often cleans my shoes and cleans them carefully every time. My father took out the bicycle I rode to school every day, and when I got home at night, my father stored it for me every time. It's his job to clean up the car and cheer him up. In his eyes, I seem to always be a child.

The books I read when I was in school were all covered by my father himself and my name was written on them with a brush. I have been a teacher for so many years and I still have my high school textbooks intact. Sometimes I read him and say, "This book is useless. You should sell it." My father always said: "Let it go, let it go, you will regret it when the book is used." I went to college in Nanjing for four years, and every time my father wrote me a letter, the letter always ended by saying, "Don't miss it." Be concerned about money, eat well, and take care of your health. He rarely told me to study hard, but after reading my father's letters, I naturally knew how to study.

Now, I have been a father for more than ten years. When my child was young, I beat him frequently because he was sick and refused to take medicine. When he got a little older, he received a lot of beatings from me because he didn’t like to go to kindergarten. Until now, when I don't do well in studies or exams, I always beat or scold my children. Thinking about my father's treatment of me, and then thinking about my treatment of my children, I feel really ashamed. My father and I see each other several times a year, and once we see him, he gets older. Isn't it? I'm almost forty, can my father not grow old?

In my eyes, my father is a silent person, a person who loves me and loves me, a person who loves reading and writing, and a person who guides more than controls. In my eyes, my father's image is very tall, and I have to look up to see him. I hope my father can live healthy and I am willing to be his child forever.

The galaxy of my memory is filled with past events of growth - joy, sadness, sadness, excitement... In my memory, there is such a thing that I will never forget.

In the second half of last year, my 81-year-old grandma was hospitalized due to illness. She has been in and out of the hospital no less than five times. Weak and sick, he suffered a lot. This summer vacation, grandma finally recovered and was discharged from the hospital, but her body was still very weak, so my father took grandma to live with us. At first, I was very reluctant, because after all, my grandma is an old man and her body is very weak. What if something happens to her? But looking at my father's sad and anxious expression, I agreed.

On Friday night, my father carried grandma to our home on the sixth floor. Grandma is so weak, so thin, and so pale. I changed from fear to concern. How much grandma needs someone to serve her! I secretly decided that I must take good care of my grandma. The next morning, I just woke up and found that my father was missing, but he left a note: "Son, I have something to do today and will be away from home all day. You have to take good care of grandma. I believe you can do it!" I looked at my father. The note made me even more confident! I came to grandma's room and saw that grandma had already gotten up. "Grandma has taken medicine." When I came to the living room, I asked, "Grandma, do you want to watch TV?" Grandma looked at me and nodded happily, so I turned on the TV and talked and laughed with grandma. Watching TV...

Soon, at noon, I carefully helped my grandma into the restaurant. While talking and laughing with her, I tore the tender chicken and stuffed it into her mouth. Eating so slowly, for a long time, grandma finally finished the rice in the bowl. But I'm still hungry. ah! It's one o'clock in the afternoon, and it's time for grandma to take medicine. I quickly helped grandma to the living room, poured a glass of warm water, took the medicine, put the medicine in grandma's mouth, and patted her back so that grandma could take the medicine smoothly... At five o'clock in the afternoon, Dad came back. I told my father about taking care of my grandma, and my father praised me as a good boy who respects the elderly! But I was already tired and fell down.

What a meaningful day! Since this incident, I seem to have grown up a lot. Our elders need our filial piety, but also our care and considerate service. From then on, I no longer quarreled with my grandparents, no longer talked back to my parents, and no longer lost my temper. Instead, they are sensible and filial.

How many gates does a person have to go through in his life?

When I was carried out of the delivery room, the first sight I saw of this new world when I opened my eyes was that my father was crying with joy, and his tears were dripping down my little face. Up, hot and wet. The two people in front of me gave me life. From then on, I stepped into the first door of life. This is the starting point of life. This is a beautiful beginning. I will experience the colorful life from this, I will experience the ups and downs of life from this, and I will use my whole life to repay my parents.

Whenever I go in and out of my house, I feel a sense of familiarity, kindness, reluctance and energy. Walking into this familiar door with a day's fatigue, looking at the hot meals on the table and the happy little goldfish playing in the fish tank, my heart was filled with warmth and relief. With abundant energy after rest, and with the expectations and trust of my family, I walked out of this familiar door facing the rising sun. I look forward to success and I will definitely take home the fruits of my harvest.

When I first stepped into the school gate, I seemed to be in an ocean of knowledge. I am like a small boat swimming in this vast sea. Although there are rough waves, I am not afraid. No matter how big the difficulty is, I will overcome it. There are also my hard-working teachers who use candlelight to dispel the darkness on my way forward and point out the direction of my struggle. Whenever I say goodbye to one school gate and step into another, I will move towards higher ideals step by step.

Only by working hard, fighting hard, and following diligence can we grasp the hand of success. I want to grasp the hand of success and walk into the door of my ideal palace.

When I stepped into the door of society, I saw all kinds of people and things, and saw the rich and colorful life; I saw the success and glory of the hard-working people, and also saw the success and glory of the hard-working people. I have seen the inaction of people who do not seek advancement; I have seen heroes who sacrifice themselves for others and devote their lives to others, and I have also seen the greed, luxury, corruption and depravity of corrupt officials. I must hold myself in check, never lose my way, and be an upright and aboveboard person.

When I knocked on the door of someone else’s heart for the first time, what I saw was the sincerity and enthusiasm of my friends. When others knock on the door of my heart, sadness and loneliness are replaced by honesty, and I become happy. It turns out that understanding others is not difficult, all that is required is sincerity. When two sincere hearts meet together, they will ignite the flame of true love, supporting and tolerating each other.

There are countless doors in a person's life, too many to count. Every door has infinite touches and connotations. If we dig out it with our heart, we will get a lot. When entering and exiting every door, don’t forget to show your sincerity and diligence.

The door is a landscape. The door with hanging bead curtain reminds people of the beauty of the owner of the boudoir; the unique door in the garden changes the scene with each step, which is pleasing to the eye; the ninety-nine and eighty-one nails on the Forbidden City gate show The arrogant royal style; the bamboo curtained door in the Grand View Garden contains a lot of tenderness and charm. My favorite line is "The garden is full of spring scenery and can't be contained, a branch of red apricot comes out of the wall." A door that has not been opened for a long time may be just a simple firewood door, but it leads to another cave where hundreds of flowers bloom. Perhaps, the spring scenery inside the door is not that special, and the spring scenery outside the door is not inferior either. However, a door standing there quietly divides the world into two at this moment, allowing you to imagine the world beyond the door. The beauty. The reason why the door becomes a landscape is not only because of the intuitive feeling it gives people, but also because it brings people a world of infinite reverie.

The door is a barrier. Close the door, feel relaxed, do what you want to do, and live leisurely and contentedly, how good it is! The door blocks all outside noise, making the people inside feel safe and comfortable. In addition to the room door, everyone has a heart door with different transparency. Different from the door, the "blocking" of the heart door is selective: a sincere and sincere voice can often easily knock on the door of people's hearts; on the contrary, people who are repeatedly rejected by others should reflect on their own way of treating others. Sincerity. The door of the heart is necessary, but if you only focus on your own integrity and ignore the splendor of the world outside the door, you will only gradually lose the brilliance of life in loneliness. The door is a barrier, but guiding people from the hesitation of knocking on the door to the surprise of pushing the door in is the more important meaning of its existence.

Maternal Love is Deep_Composition

"Mother! When the storm comes in the sky, the birds hide in their nests; when the storm comes in my heart, I only hide in your nest In my arms." Whenever I read this little poem by Bing Xin, my mother's face, a face full of deep maternal love, comes to my mind involuntarily.

My mother is a middle school teacher. Her eyes shining with wisdom reveal endless love; her hands that have experienced thousands of vicissitudes of life contain a lot of kindness. In my impression, her eyes and hands are connected in series, carrying deep maternal love, turning into rays of light, bathing me in it.

My mother’s eyes always reveal infinite care. When I was very young, whenever I was walking alone, my mother always looked at me with her loving eyes, with a faint smile on her face, as if she was clearing away the obstacles ahead for me; when I was a little older, when I could walk alone When I was going out, my mother gave me some warnings, and then sent me out with her concerned eyes, as if to remind me to be careful on the road. Now, although my mother no longer watches me walking like she did when I was a child, I know very well that her Her caring eyes are watching me move forward on the road of life...

Mother's hands are a carrier of her deep maternal love. Mom's hands are very rough, with wrinkles on them. They become dry and cracked in the winter and are very painful. But that still doesn't stop her from loving me. Once, it was winter, and the north wind blew "whirring", and my mother sent me to school. Suddenly, she turned around and saw my uncovered hands, and couldn't help frowning: "Why aren't you wearing gloves?" I didn't care about it: "I forgot to wear them. It's not cold anyway, so it's okay if I don't wear them." But. But my mother insisted on handing her gloves to me and "commanded": "Put them on!" I felt moved in my heart. I knew that my mother's hands could not withstand the cold wind, so I was unwilling to obey. However, my mother's non-negotiable gaze finally remained. Let me put on the gloves that still had her body temperature. The north wind blew in waves, and my mother's hands burst with blood, which was soaked in deep maternal love. My eyes couldn't help but get wet...

Bathed in the warm glow of maternal love, I felt extremely happy. My mother used her deep maternal love to weave a cradle full of warmth for me, allowing me to lie happily in this cradle. As I thought about it, the little poem echoed in my ears: "Mother! When the storm comes in the sky, the birds hide in their nests; when the storm comes in my heart, I only hide in your arms. .

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My new friend

My new friend Zhang Xiaoni, from Class 1 (1), Xizhong Middle School, Yang City, Huishan District, Wuxi City, Jiangsu Province, entered the middle school and I made many new friends. We talked, laughed, and helped each other, but she was the one who impressed me the most.

She has an innocent face, and her beautiful handwriting makes me envious. I admire you; when I am angry, the sweet voices and the comfort always calm my chaotic heart. Listening to the sweet tone and feeling the temperature of the hands holding me tightly, I My heart is full of warmth. She - an ordinary girl, has completely changed me.

I remember that I was not a "good student" in the sixth grade, and I was not so conscious about my studies. After middle school, I made a friend like her, and I changed. I think I am making progress. It starts from that incident...

I didn't do well in Zhou Zhouqing's exam. I failed completely. It was the first time I had such a bad test. At this time, I was very frustrated and I didn’t want to give myself a chance. She seemed to see what I was thinking, so she came up to me and said, "Zhang Xiaoni, you don’t want to give yourself a chance." Any chance of getting started? "After listening to these words, I felt: Yes, life will inevitably encounter setbacks. If you don't experience wind and rain, how can you see the rainbow? As the saying goes: The sun is always after the wind and rain. Now, my mood has changed from depression again. To be confident.

It was her who gave me courage and confidence; it was her who gave me comfort when I was lonely and depressed...

Now, I stood in front of the mirror, and I realized that I had grown up and made progress. This little bit of effort was entirely due to her words. Without her help, how could I go from failure to success?

Oh, by the way, I almost forgot to tell everyone that she is Yu Rujing

Remember an unforgettable Chinese activity

Remember an unforgettable Chinese activity in Wuxi, Jiangsu Province. Zhang Xiaoni, Class 1 (1), Junior High School, Yangshi Province, Huishan District: "My classmates, due to various reasons at school, the recitation competition in the grade has not been held for a long time. I am very sorry. "This is what Teacher Ding said to us in today's Chinese class.

The recitation competition is currently held in the class, and students with good recitation are selected for the "Grade Competition". It can be said that I have been fully prepared before this and am waiting to perform my "specialty show" and show my style!

On Friday afternoon, the recitation competition officially started. One after another walked onto the podium, and my heart couldn't help but beat.

Ah, it's finally my turn! The heart that I used to be able to suppress can now be controlled no matter what method I use. No more. Suddenly, my heart seemed to not belong to me, as if it had escaped from my body and escaped from my "claws". I thought: Will I forget my lines? Will I be embarrassed in front of my classmates? Will I...

With my heart pounding and not calm, I walked up to the podium and recited the article I had already memorized with my partner Yan Fei. < /p>

"..." Hey, why doesn't Yan Fei say anything?

The classmates all looked at us with doubts, and I really couldn't wait any longer. , I’ll just say it first, “It shook off the dewdrops in the morning...” I recited it loudly with a loud voice. I don’t know why, but the heart that was separated from my body suddenly suddenly returned. It returned to my body, and unconsciously, I regained my composure.

In the end, we scored 89 points and entered the grade competition.

It can be said that the recital competition is a competition that I have been looking forward to for a long time, because there are opponents and competition, and it can be considered a fun experience!

I am waiting for the competition in my grade. Reciting competition! I hope to show my best style!

My friend

My friend Qiu Chuanghao, Class 4, Dahao Middle School, Haojiang District, Shantou City, Guangdong Province, is a human being Communication is an indispensable thing in life. Everyone has a good friend. People without friends will be very lonely. I am no exception. I also have a very good friend. Her name is Tingting. She and I are online. We knew each other, and I couldn’t help but get to know her after we talked. An incident happened between her and me, and I still remember that incident deeply in my mind. Let me tell you what happened.

I remember that the season was summer, and the weather was very hot that day. I went to school very early at noon, but the time was not up, so the school gate was not open yet. I stood there waiting for the school gate to open. After 20 minutes of sweating, the school guard came to open the door. After entering the classroom, I suddenly felt dizzy and lay down with my head on the table to see if I could feel better. Just then a familiar voice said something, asking me if I was feeling well. I looked up and saw who it was. It turned out to be my most hated person, Tingting. How could she be so kind to ask me this question? Acridine. So I asked her if she wanted to laugh at me. She said with a very serious expression that she didn't want to laugh at you. After a while, she applied the white flower oil on me and asked me if I felt better? After school. At that time, she insisted on sending me home because I was dizzy and I couldn't argue with her, so I let her send me home.

After this incident, I went from hating her to becoming a good friend with her, and we still study together today.

We all have the same desire to be a doctor and save people