Five years old. Father's love is like a gentle wave.
The sunset glow is accompanied by the afterglow of the sun, completing the journey of the day; The green worms in the flowers are particularly beautiful; Beautiful peach blossoms are accompanied by drizzle, composing a silent night. At this time, a burst of laughter broke the silence of the night, and the night was sleepless. I am playing with my father.
"Dad, look, the rain is like a chain." "I can see that."
"Dad, listen, crickets are still up so late." "That's your quarrel."
"Ha ha!" "..." "Dad, let's go home." Every word from my father makes me feel infinitely gentle. At this time, father's love is closer than mother's love, just like the waves in the evening, bringing people good memories.
The love of an 8-year-old father is like a calm dead sea. Autumn wind rustling, goose feathers and dead leaves, took away the last trace of warmth, my father was too indifferent to me.
The paper with perfect score is piled up five or six centimeters; A compliment seems ordinary; Bright red certificates are piled in drawers ... aren't you proud to have such a son? ! No, your cold eyes shocked me. Up to now, I understand. You are talking with your eyes: "What are you proud of? Your school is not worth mentioning. You won't know what competition is until junior high school, and you will have these achievements, huh! " 1 1 year-old dad's love is like a lighthouse by the sea, pointing out the direction.
On the platform, a big boy told me to step aside from the goal. I reasoned with him, but he hit me. I came back for you. You told me to give him a good beating and said I wouldn't do it, so everyone bullied me. The next day, I hit him first, but I still fell down. At this time, I saw you, saw your eyes that ignored everything, and my resentment turned into strength. After I defeated him, I found that I had one more thing-backbone.
It only takes eight points to love someone, but you have given me a lot of love, like the sea. I can proudly say, "I am happy because someone loves me."
If I were a flower, father's love is the soil to cultivate this flower; If I were a boat, my father's love would be the rudder to guide me. If I were a kite, my father's love would be to pull my rope. My father is not good at words, but he is strict. When I was a child, Excellence was my father's pride. When I grow up, Excellence is no longer a perfect test paper. My father's expectations began to become a burden to me, making it difficult for me to realize them.
Father began to find that his daughter, who once made him proud, always let him down in life. His father talked a lot at the dinner table, so he didn't dare to eat with his father. In the drizzle, my father came and I wanted to run away. My father pulled me up and I cheered up. We hug in rainy spring.
Hearing these words, an indescribable heat wave came to my mind. My heart was wet, but it was dried by him in this heat wave of fatherly love. I fell asleep sweetly. In this sweet fatherly love, I dreamed that the bare tree actually grew green buds, and the color was so bright green and full of vitality.
I lay quietly in bed, and the moon couldn't bear loneliness, but it still lifted its veil and spilled its radiance to the world. Imagine, maybe she planted the seeds of love, so it is no longer dark.
My father and I must have received a seed. My father's seed is more cultured and exudes sweet love. Perhaps, father's love is a thorn in the flower branch, and children are attractive roses. With the protection of thorns, with the pain and love of thorns, children can be more brilliant and fragrant.
I think, father's love is solid, like a mountain, you can get close to it and feel its breadth and thickness; Father's love is warm, like a fireplace, and you can feel its heat and warmth beside it. At that moment, I realized that it was not my father who didn't love me. His love is deep. The more he loves me, the more strict he is with me. It was my father's sternness that gave me a more precious property-self-reliance. I am ashamed that I didn't understand my father's love until now.
Looking back, my father was a mountain. He stood tall in my heart, so tall and so green.
Father is a down-to-earth, sincere, diligent, simple, honest and loyal person. Father's love is not good at words, but only by heart.
When I first cried for the darkness and pain of this world, my father lit up my whole world like the red and bright sun rising every day on the other side of the mountain. Bundles of brilliant light strung my childhood into a ballad, and I swung around on the swing of time, carefree.
My father's beard rubbed my innocent laughter and filled the mountains. Although sometimes it is too naughty, it will also taste a slap, the birds stop singing, and the forest is empty. It took me a long time to know that fatherly love is a beard and a slap.
Father's eyes are so deep, it has been urging me, but two fences have been erected around me to correct my direction. When I did something wrong, my father's eyes collided with the silent thunderbolt, which shocked my heart.
My father is so stingy when I do a good deed and wait for praise. His seemingly casual eyes always pull my eyes higher and farther. My father's footprints are deep and big. I will always linger in the footprints under his back, touch the texture soaked with vicissitudes of life with tender hands and understand my father.
The extension of time has turned my father's footprints into two parallel lines. I leaned on my father's footsteps with my arms and read every chapter. My father continued to write this silent book for me, and I gradually remembered the good, evil, honor, disgrace, bitterness and joy ... My father's blood surged in my veins, and I began to measure my life by my father's size ... My father's love was a blue sea, and I was boating on the sea, but I never saw my father's deep eyes. My father's role in this world is almost the same! Father is the one who still seems to beat you and scold you the most.
2. A 400-word composition praising my father. That was when I was in the second grade of primary school. My father has just transferred his job. He looks very busy. He leaves home early every morning and often comes back late at night. Maybe it's because I've never met him. After dinner, I finally told him something I had endured for several days and still regretted: "You don't care about me!" " Actually, I didn't take it seriously after that. However, the next day, my mother told me that my father was tossing and turning in bed because of what I said, staying up all night and even crying. Mom said it was the first time she saw a big man so sad. I was young and ignorant at that time. I just listened and didn't care much.
Not long ago, my father celebrated his 45th birthday. Under the candlelight of red wine, my mother mentioned the past, and I couldn't help crying. It is true that I don't spend much time with my father, but think about it, he has given me a lot of love-he loves reading, and every time he goes to the bookstore, he will be happy to choose the right book for me. When he reads a good article, he will cut it out and share it with me. When I am frustrated, give me encouragement and cheer me up; When I was in the spring breeze, he sounded the alarm for me from time to time. ...
Father is not as careful as mother, nor as affectionate as mother, nor good at expressing his feelings, but he silently propped up the family with his shoulders. Only when you personally taste the understanding of fatherly love can you appreciate the sweetness. Some people say that maternal love is the greatest love in the world, but I think fatherly love and maternal love are the same-so ordinary, like a spring rain, moistening things silently.
In my heart, I always believe that my father loves mountains.
3. praise your father's composition. The smell of your father.
There are many unique flavors in the world. What's the smell that impressed you the most? What's your favorite flavor? What I like best is the unique smell of my father.
My father has been engaged in many different industries, but in recent years, he has become an animal doctor (that is, a veterinarian). He goes out early and returns late every day, running between major pig farms and chicken farms. Naturally, contact with animals is indispensable, and there is a little unpleasant smell on my body. But it is this unpleasant smell that makes me feel the depth of fatherly love and the implication of fatherly love.
When I was fourteen years old, I deeply tasted the love of my father, which was an unspeakable taste. Very special, bitter, but sweeter. That night, my father dragged himself back, and just entered the house, my father sat on the sofa. Just as I was about to offer my father a cup of hot tea, a pungent smell of medicine and strong fishy smell filled our small home. I quickly put down the hot tea, stepped back, covered my nose with my hand, frowned and blurted out, "Dad, why are you so smelly today?" "Brother also hurriedly cover your nose and walked away. Father stood up slowly, shook his head helplessly, turned around and walked slowly back to the room.
The next day, my father was on a business trip. I haven't smelled strong medicine on my father for more than ten hours. That night, I stayed up all night. I tossed and turned in bed and began to miss the smell of my father. I remembered my father's sad and disappointed figure when he returned to his room last night. Thinking of the accidental injury in my childhood, I felt a little warmth in my father's arms. I think of my father, who gets up early and is greedy for black every day so that we can eat well, dress well and live well. I don't know how many tears he shed and how much thought he spent. . This scene makes me feel sour when I think of it. At that moment, I realized that I used to hate the smell of medicine-the smell of fish I got to feed my whole family, which was so fragrant that it permeated my life, moved me and intoxicated me.
The next morning, I dialed my father's phone, and his gentle words still came from the phone, which was still the fragrance that touched me.
I will never forget the smell of my father, and I will always cherish the taste of my father's love.
Ask for an article praising my father. Father's love is like a lighthouse by the sea, pointing out the direction. On the platform, a big boy told me to step aside from the goal. I reasoned with him, but he hit me. I came back for you. You told me to give him a good beating and said I wouldn't do it, so everyone bullied me. The next day, I hit him first, but I still fell down. At this time, I saw you, saw your eyes that ignored everything, and my resentment turned into strength. After I defeated him, I found that I had one more thing-backbone.
It only takes eight points to love someone, but you have given me a lot of love, like the sea. I can proudly say, "I am happy because someone loves me."
If I were a flower, father's love is the soil to cultivate this flower; If I were a boat, my father's love would be the rudder to guide me. If I were a kite, my father's love would be to pull my rope.
My father is not good at words, but he is strict. When I was a child, Excellence was my father's pride. When I grow up, Excellence is no longer a perfect test paper. My father's expectations began to become a burden to me, making it difficult for me to realize them. Father began to find that his daughter, who once made him proud, always let him down in life. His father talked a lot at the dinner table, so he didn't dare to eat with his father.
In the drizzle, my father came and I wanted to run away. My father pulled me up and I cheered up. We hug in rainy spring.
Hearing these words, an indescribable heat wave came to my mind. My heart was wet, but it was dried by him in this heat wave of fatherly love.
I fell asleep sweetly. In this sweet fatherly love, I dreamed that the bare tree actually grew green buds, and the color was so bright green and full of vitality.
I lay quietly in bed, and the moon couldn't bear loneliness, but it still lifted its veil and spilled its radiance to the world. Imagine, maybe she planted the seeds of love, so it is no longer dark. My father and I must have received a seed. My father's seed is more cultured and exudes sweet love.
Perhaps, father's love is a thorn in the flower branch, and children are attractive roses. With the protection of thorns, with the pain and love of thorns, children can be more brilliant and fragrant.
I think, father's love is solid, like a mountain, you can get close to it and feel its breadth and thickness; Father's love is warm, like a fireplace, and you can feel its heat and warmth beside it.
At that moment, I realized that it was not my father who didn't love me. His love is deep. The more he loves me, the more strict he is with me. It was my father's sternness that gave me a more precious property-self-reliance. I am ashamed that I didn't understand my father's love until now.
Looking back, my father was a mountain. He stood tall in my heart, so tall and so green. Father is a down-to-earth, sincere, diligent, simple, honest and loyal person. Father's love is not good at words, but only by heart.
When I first cried for the darkness and pain of this world, my father lit up my whole world like the red and bright sun rising every day on the other side of the mountain. Bundles of brilliant light strung my childhood into a ballad, and I swung around on the swing of time, carefree. My father's beard rubbed my innocent laughter and filled the mountains. Although sometimes it is too naughty, it will also taste a slap, the birds stop singing, and the forest is empty. It took me a long time to know that fatherly love is a beard and a slap.
Father's eyes are so deep, it has been urging me, but two fences have been erected around me to correct my direction. When I did something wrong, my father's eyes collided with the silent thunderbolt, which shocked my heart. My father is so stingy when I do a good deed and wait for praise. His seemingly casual eyes always pull my eyes higher and farther.
My father's footprints are deep and big. I will always linger in the footprints under his back, touch the texture soaked with vicissitudes of life with tender hands and understand my father. The extension of time has turned my father's footprints into two parallel lines. I leaned on my father's footsteps with my arms and read every chapter. My father kept writing this silent book for me, and I gradually remembered the good, evil, honor, disgrace, bitterness and joy ... My father's blood surged in my veins, and I began to measure my life by my father's size ...
Father's love is a blue ocean. I went boating on the sea, but I never saw my father's deep eyes.
It turns out that in this world, fathers play similar roles! Father is the one who still seems to beat you and scold you the most.
5. How to write a perfect composition for the 2006 Tianjin senior high school entrance examination: Father loves my father, who is a farmer, and he is very ordinary. My father made me feel his love for me in a special way. This kind of love is boundless, profound and delicate. Every time I think of my father's love for me, my heart surges. That was when I was admitted to a middle school in the city. My father sent me to school. Although the road is not far, my father insisted on sending it, so I had to agree. On the way, the sun is shining. It was so hot that I looked at my father: face, purple sauce; Eyes bloodshot; The straw hat has been taken off, and the sparse hair is close to the scalp. "Pinger, have a rest!" Father said, and took out two eggs from his pocket. "Dad, you eat." I pushed over. "Dad has ... here is ..." I took the egg and found a cool place. My father squatted down not far from me, and his bearded chin moved with the movement of his mouth. I looked intently. What do I see? "potatoes!" I couldn't help shouting. "Is this ... delicious?" Delicious ... "the father vaguely concealed. Ah! Father, you work hard every day, not only busy with work outside, but also taking care of your mother who has been ill for many years. Seeing that all the neighbors around you are rich, you make us eat and dress well for our brother and sister to go to school, and you are still so bitter with yourself ... My heart is so astringent that I can't say a word. The school is here. I said, "Go back." "Ah, ping son, study hard! Use this 30 yuan first, and I'll come back in a few days. Ah? " With that, my father took some crumpled bills from his pocket and stuffed them into my hand. Ah! Hands, father's hands! What good hands! Ivy-like blood vessels, dry fingers like bamboo branches. Careless, I never found my father so thin. Father, you don't talk much, and your limited words have no profound truth, but your love for me is so vast, so profound and so delicate. Father, don't worry! Your heart, I understand the teacher's evaluation that this is a rare masterpiece of the senior high school entrance examination, and it is a typical article of one person and one thing. Through the description of the father sending his daughter to school, he showed his deep love for his daughter. There are many materials to show fatherly love. The author chose his father to send his daughter to school, and carefully portrayed the image of an ordinary father. There are not many words, and there is no profound truth in the limited words, but the love you gave me is so vast, so profound and so delicate. "The article uses a variety of descriptive methods, vivid and touching. The simple and simple dialogue between father and daughter is vivid and vivid; Sincere inner monologue is just right; The carved portrait depicts a weather-beaten ordinary farmer deeply in love with his daughter. In addition, this paper uses a variety of expressions, and the lines are full of understanding and deep love for my father. Lyricism deepens the center of the article and enhances its appeal.
6. I praised my father for 650 words in composition. Dad, I want to say to you: "Thank you for igniting the hope of the soul;" This love is like a touch of green. You're angry. When you notice your weather-beaten face, you will frown every time you write a composition. No matter how you write it, the article will always be like a running account.
So you bought me a lot of books. In order not to let me be lazy, I saw the wrinkles in your eyes and didn't even say a word of praise, which made me feel extremely depressed. I rushed into the room and cried silently. I hated reading books since I was a child.
You asked me to keep a diary every day. I should play computer less. I hate that iron doesn't turn into steel. There will always be parents to help guide other people's children, and I can only learn to ride a bike by my own groping. At that time, I was scarred and learned to observe. Every year after the tour, you always ask me to write a composition and record the little things around me. You also took time out of your busy schedule to supervise my reading. I will certainly remember your teaching. "
Dad, the love you gave me is like fire. But when I am excited to run to you and show off to you, you always look down on me. When I am busy, the role of father has always been a symbol of severity in my heart.
Learn to ride a bike when you are young. Tireless, over and over again, covering the sky, not arrogant; It was you who made me love reading with your strictness.
When I found myself nearsighted; This love is like a street lamp, illuminating my way forward, and watching TV is far away. When I got to know you, I found that you were old-I accidentally saw a silver thread on your head; It is you who let me know with your severity that you should take care of your eyes; This love is like rain and dew, nourishing the seedlings. Dad, I want to say to you, "You have worked hard. Thank you for everything you have done for me. See if I can make progress and help me review patiently."
You often remind me to hold my head high when writing. "When I realized that everything you did was for me, it was you who told me with your sternness to be independent and hate writing more.
7. The center of an article I want my father to praise is that my father never praises me. I praised my father with his praise.
Every time I see the empty iron cage in the corner of the balcony, I think of my father's praise.
Five years ago, there lived two little golden bears in this small cage. I was withdrawn at that time, and they were my only fun objects. However, I didn't expect one of the bears to die soon, and I was very sad. The other bear seems more sad. He doesn't eat or drink all day, and it really hurts me to watch it weaken day by day.
One day, my father said to me, "Do you really like bears? Look at that. What a lucky life you are, with all the beautiful things in nature, and your little bear, not only lost the company of day and night, but more sadly, it comes from nature, but can't have nature. "
I savored my father's words, and finally, I understood. ...
On a charming summer night, my father and I took the little golden bear to a quiet river in a remote suburb. Blue sky, green grass, clear river-these things that should belong to every life, this is the first time my little bear has seen them. It looked at everything around curiously, as if it could never get enough.
I can't finish reading it. I held it and squatted down slowly. "Look," I said. "This is your new home, all yours!" It seemed to understand what I meant and climbed out of my palm happily to the grass. "Goodbye!" "I have tears in my eyes. But there is unspeakable joy in my heart. The bear got farther and farther away from me and finally got into the grass and disappeared.
Father patted me on the shoulder and said, "You did the right thing! I am happy for you, because you know how to treat life well, and you have begun to understand what true love is. "
My father's praise made me unforgettable, which reminded me. We should cherish and treat every life well and become a real person.
Comments: The language description in this article is concise and profound. The little author described his father's two speeches, both of which were carefully designed and processed: in form, the language was vivid and infectious; From the content point of view, the speech points to the center and reveals the essence of things. The child's psychological description is true and delicate, full of children's breath. In addition, the father's actions such as patting the shoulder are also very characteristic of the father, which is true and credible.
Father doesn't know how to express love, but mother makes our family get along well. He just goes to work every day, and mom makes a list of our mistakes and then scolds us.
Once I stole a piece of candy, he asked me to send it back and told the candy seller that I stole it, and I was willing to unpack it for him as compensation. But mom understands that I'm just a child.
I broke my leg on the playground swing, and my mother always held me on the way to the hospital. Dad parked his car in front of the emergency room, and they told him to drive away, saying that this parking space was reserved for emergency vehicles. Dad roared, "What kind of car do you think this is? Coach? "
Dad always seems a little uncomfortable at my birthday party. He is just busy blowing balloons, setting the table and doing housework. It was my mother who pushed the cake with a candle and let me blow it.
When I look through photo albums, people always ask, "What's your father like?" God knows! He is always busy taking pictures of others. My mother and I took countless photos together, all with smiles on our faces.
I remember my mother once asked him to teach me to ride a bike. I told him not to let go, and he said he should let go. After I fell, my mother came to help me, and my father waved her away. I was very angry and decided to give him some color to see see. So I immediately climbed on the bike again and showed it to him myself. He just smiled.
When I was in college, all the letters at home were written by my mother. Besides sending a check, he also sent me a note saying that his lawn was beautiful because I didn't play football on it.
Every time I call home, he seems to want to talk to me, but he always says, "I told your mother to listen."
When I got married, it was my mother who shed tears. He just blew his nose loudly and then walked out of the room.
I grew up listening to him say, "Where are you going? When will you go home? Does the car have gasoline? No, don't go. " Dad doesn't know how to express love. only if ...
Could it be that he expressed it and I didn't notice it?
9. My father, who paid silently in his praise articles, has always been my strong backing. I flinched and he cheered for me; I failed, he encouraged me ... Sometimes, I think my father doesn't care enough about me, but think about it, he has done a lot for me! When I was in primary school, I had no idea about composition. When the teacher asks me to remember a thing or a person, I mostly keep a diary and write a few heartless words to deal with it. Then one day my father suddenly asked me to read the composition. I smiled and shook my head after reading it. Since then, every time I finish writing my composition, my father will take the initiative to help me revise it, and I can only copy it neatly in my composition book after I finish it. On one occasion, the teacher assigned an essay entitled "My father and I are better than childhood", mainly to let us understand a truth: the old and new societies are two worlds, socialism is good, capitalism is bad, and so on. We should cherish today's hard-won happy life. I never heard my father tell me about his childhood, so I pestered him to tell me about the past when I got home. My father's story is very nice, with many touching plots. But when it comes to my pen, it becomes a ruthless running account. Naturally, this kind of composition can't pass my dad at first. My father took a page I had written and revised it. I skipped to the yard to find a friend to jump on the rubber band. When I came home sweating, I found that my composition had changed from one page to three pages. I immediately shouted coquetry: "It's been so long, when shall I copy?" My father ignored me and turned to the living room to watch TV. I barely copied three pages of composition, but I didn't expect this composition to be read by the teacher as an excellent model essay in the class after it was handed in. When the teacher commented on my composition on the podium, it was really touching, and my heart was really like honey, not to mention how beautiful and sweet it was ... Maybe I was an ambitious person since I was a child, since that composition was praised by the teacher. I am addicted to the feeling of being on cloud nine after being praised. In order to be praised by teachers in the future, I began to take the initiative to ask my father to help me revise my composition. When I said it was revision, I basically asked my father to help me write my composition. Every time I get a composition topic, I scribble two strokes casually, then push the draft paper into my father's hand and say, "Change it!" " Then I went out to play by myself. My father didn't complain, and he helped me revise it meticulously every time. In many cases, this is basically equivalent to rewriting it for me. My father cares about me silently and pays for me. My father is always the best in my heart.
10. How to write a composition praising my father? 1. Teaching objectives 1 Through guidance, practice and evaluation, students can master the writing method of grasping the characteristics of characters and showing people by events, thus stimulating a sense of success in practice.
By recalling, describing and praising his excellent qualities, let him know how to appreciate his father and feel his affection. Second, teaching preparation composition paper, crayons, courseware third, teaching process 1) Loudly praise: Students, who can tell the truth to the teacher? Who do you love most at home? Mother is the kindest and gentlest relative who gave birth to me and raised me. Her selfless love for us may still be visible and tangible.
However, according to the report of scientific research, in a family, the father's image and personality have a far-reaching impact on the child's life. So, I think, today, with the theme of "Dad is real-",we will go into the world of Dad and give a spiritual gift for the upcoming Father's Day.
The teacher first makes a psychological survey: those who think that dad is a good dad raise their hands; Dad makes you raise your hand proudly; The teacher took the lead in praising his father; (Slide) Who dares to praise Dad loudly? (Use dad's truth-talk about the topic) 2) Model essay leads the way: praise dad. You can't shout slogans in vain. You have to grasp the place that impresses you the most, that is, the characteristics of the characters, so that (writing on the blackboard) will be justified and based on facts.
How to grasp the characteristics of characters? Read this composition first (the teacher recites, and the students think: What kind of person is dad? Where are the characteristics of dad written? (Point out the characteristics) (Praise the teacher) Learn to appreciate: It can be seen that if a character wants to leave a deep influence on people, he must grasp the characteristics of the character in appearance and personality. What's your dad's image? Somebody say something.
What's your father like? Can you describe your father in the following sentences? Sentence pattern exercise (choose one) affectionate memory: transition: Just now, we grasped the characteristics of the characters and said: Dad, your composition has been half successful. However, the expression of a character's personality characteristics is not a few concise descriptions such as appearance, but a person can only show it through real and concrete things, which is called-showing people with things.
(Writing on the blackboard) Especially when this matter is critical, it is particularly important to describe dad's language, movements and demeanor. Let us deeply remember our father, a proud father.
Draw it in the form of a stick figure, and say dad in your heart while drawing. Teacher Mai can get extra points for teaching a good composition.
The expression of true feelings: students say things and teachers comment. (Projection shows the results) Emotional pen tip: Students practice calligraphy, teacher award.
Summary: Students, on the road of our growth, my mother gave us meticulous love in the image of a gentle woman. This kind of selfless love is like a trickle, which warms our hearts and is branded in our hearts. However, the father's role in the social family is under heavy psychological pressure, and his love for his children is often more serious and profound. Let's pay more attention to observing and studying our father in our life and learn more from our father and other relatives. This is a lifelong lesson given to us by the teacher after these two classes.