My sight---Remember a blue umbrella. My sight has been tied to a blue umbrella for so long... That blue color is as clear as the sky . On those rainy days when I was a child, my mother always came to school to pick me up under a blue umbrella. The top of my head was blue, my shoulders were also covered in blue, and everything I could see was blue without rain. sky. One rainy day later, I looked up to talk to my mother, only to find that the half of the sky where my mother was was a gloomy gray. The wind was mixed with raindrops, which fell into my mother's gray sky. My mother's shoulders were wet, and the hair on her forehead was also wet. It got wet, but I was still in a blue sky without rain. "Mom, the umbrella is crooked," I reminded, "No, the umbrella is not crooked." Mom replied softly, my eyes fell on the tilted umbrella handle, "It's true, the umbrella is crooked." Mom said stubbornly Said, "No, really not..." Later, when I grew up, I no longer asked my mother to pick me up on rainy days. The blue umbrella faded year by year in the cabinet. I once thought I had forgotten it. . Maybe it was a coincidence, it was another rainy day, and there was that blue umbrella again. Under the umbrella were my mother and me. I, who was almost as tall as my mother, was holding the umbrella. My eyes fell on the umbrella handle unconsciously, and that scene was mixed with the scene when I was a child. My mother was shrouded in a blue sky without rain. And my shoulders were wet and my hair was wet. "The umbrella is crooked," my mother reminded me, "No, it's not crooked." "It's true, the umbrella is crooked," my mother repeated. "Mom, it's true that it's not crooked, no." There was a long silence under the umbrella, but when I turned around, I saw crystal water droplets streaking across my mother's cheek. The faded umbrella returned to its previous blue color, as clear as the sky. I finally understand that for so long, my mother has held up a rainless sky for me. Now, I want to give my mother a happy sky, even if Meng Jiao said that no one can speak an inch of grass with a heart, but three springs will be rewarded. So my eyes were tied to that blue umbrella. I was the one who fought under the lamp every night late at night. I was the one who shuttled to the tutoring place every weekend... All of this was because of that slanted blue umbrella. umbrella. That blue color is as bright as the sky, making me dare not take my eyes away, and I will never dare to look away. Choices change instantly because of love. There are many choices in a person's life, but the only ones that cannot be chosen are your parents. When you try to choose, love will make your choice change instantly. ——Inscription: The slamming of the door ended another quarrel. The tears after the quarrel did not fall as usual, but were replaced by deep teeth marks on the lips. Quarrels, often between mother and son, start with talking about study and end with crying and slamming doors. This section seems to have become a habit. Only this time, while controlling my tears, I prayed silently in my heart: Please give me a chance to choose, let me choose a family without quarrels, and let me have a mother who truly loves me and understands me. Praying over and over again, like a spell, made the uncontrollable tears burst out of Deliang's eyes. I was immersed in tears, immersed in the world of dreams, and immersed in the dream of spinning. There were no quarrels at home, it was very warm, but everything was just like in reality; the mother in the dream was very gentle, and her eyes were full of love, but it was just the same as in reality. Reality and dreams alternated until I opened my eyes that were swollen from crying. The mother in front of me must be the mother in the dream. Her eyes were full of concern, but they were realistic. I could clearly see the anxiety in her eyes, the shallow wrinkles on her forehead, and a few less obvious white hairs. "You have a fever again. Take medicine, drink more water, and sleep well for a while. Don't forget, take medicine and drink more water, huh?" This is my mother, because she is still nagging like this, but I have never been so nagging. I took a serious look at my mother's face, which already showed signs of aging.

Maybe it’s because I care too much about expressing my personality as I grow up, maybe I base my incomprehension on my mother, maybe I escape my mother’s care and always let myself stay in the so-called grievances, and I don’t have much strength. I felt angry again, as if I had a piece of "Xiudou" in my mouth. The sourness had slowly melted away. I had touched the sweetness, and the sweetness was slowly melting away and melting into my heart. I knew, that It’s love. There are many kinds of mother’s love, but I only caught one. I will no longer drop tears in the air and let them drip. I just pray silently in my heart again: If God gives me a chance to choose, I will choose to be her daughter in the next life, regardless of whether there are any quarrels or not. Do you not understand or not, I want to be her daughter, and I am willing to spend my whole life in exchange for her lifelong health and happiness. Mom is still busy, and her back looks blurry in my eyes. She didn't know that her daughter had made a very absurd choice, and this choice changed instantly in her daughter's heart just because of her love. Feelings of happiness: The weeping willows on the shore gently dance their arms, bidding farewell to the reluctant sunset; the sky quietly prepares the swaddling clothes of dreams, waiting for the birth of the first star; at the end of the sky, the earth quietly bids farewell At the last touch of sunset, only the wind is still lingering in people's ears, whispering softly. I would have loved to appreciate the beauty of this evening. But I was so confused and annoyed today. A few boys were having a fight not far away, and I glared at them angrily. Suddenly a boy fell in my direction, and the new glass on my table suddenly fell to the ground, and the beauty disappeared. I couldn't restrain my anger, and shouted: "You are looking for death, why don't you give me compensation?" "Xiaomei came to return the novel someone lent her. I accidentally turned it over and found that the corners of the pages were badly folded. "Tell you, don't expect me to lend you books again!" After saying that, I turned around and left. As soon as I got home in the evening, my mother handed over a piece of clothing: "I just made it for you to try on." I took it and threw it on the floor without even looking at it. "The clothes you made are so tacky, I don't want them." "My mother didn't say anything else, she just picked up the clothes gently, wiped off the dirt on them, turned around and left. Looking at the lonely and thin figure of my mother, a deep guilt welled up in my heart. That night, I thought a lot, what is happiness? Happiness is tolerance, understanding, and dedication... But how much have I achieved? I often blame myself for being too sad, and I also feel the existence of happiness. In fact, it is because I have not paid any effort. I am in a state of rapid speed and do not know the blessings... I am determined to change. When a new glass was placed in my hand, I felt guilty and apologized gently: "I'm sorry, I was too impulsive that day." Understanding appeared in the boy's eyes; I put a brand-new novel When I held a bookmark in my hand, my sincerity moved her; when my mother celebrated her birthday and I presented her with the birthday cake I had spent more than a month’s pocket money on, my mother’s eyes filled with tears. I was so happy at that moment. The sunset on the horizon has already set. Although I miss the beautiful scenery when the sun sets, I believe that tomorrow's sunrise will be even more beautiful. There is a scenery in my heart. In my life, I will meet many people. They pass by my life in a hurry and become scenery in my heart. Black and white or color, they are just passers-by in my life. But you, mother, are the watchman in my life. Remember? You standing in the rain, with your white clothes and red umbrella, are the scenery that is indelible in my heart. The day I went to the painting competition, you were sick. The competition venue is not too close but not too far either. I wanted to walk there by myself, so I had to persuade you to allow me to go alone. But when you were about to go out, the weather was not good - it started to rain heavily, and now you couldn't do anything. "It's raining so heavily, and you have to take paints and brushes, how can you do that?" You said to me in a hoarse voice. Mom, why is this? Why did you send me off in the rain even though you were sick? As we were walking on the road, I wanted to take the umbrella for you. After all, you were a patient, but you insisted on taking it yourself. "If you take the umbrella, what's the difference between me not giving it to you?" I couldn't help you, so I had to give the umbrella to you. It rained heavily, but I didn't get wet at all.

The two people walking in front of us also held the same umbrella. Why were half of their bodies wet? I turned to look at you. It turned out that you were leaning the umbrella towards me. I gently pushed the umbrella towards you, but after a while you tilted the umbrella in your hand towards me. You looked at me with doubtful eyes and said quickly: "This umbrella is too heavy to hold firmly." This is such a clumsy lie, but it is so beautiful and moving. Mom, why is this? Why do you pretend not to mean it when you obviously mean it? If it was true, why did you insist on holding the umbrella for me even though you knew it was unstable? When I arrived at the examination room, I saw some parents who had also sent them over. They kept telling their children what to do, but the children waved impatiently and entered the examination room. But you didn't say anything. In fact, you didn't say a few words since we set off, and you were almost silent the entire time. You said you were afraid of infecting me. I walked into the examination room and looked back, only to find that you didn't walk away. You made a cheering gesture towards me and then smiled at me. Mom, why is this? Why don't you go home quickly? Why do I feel so powerful when I see your smile? I think I understand it, I understand it all... Later, I drew this picture in the painting competition with the theme of "Love": In the darkness, a person holding a red umbrella was smiling, and there were drops of water on her body. The white water droplets appear particularly bright in the dark background, and the red umbrella makes this painting on a rainy day seem a little warmer. I named it "Landscape". It's because of love that you sent me to the examination room in the rain despite being sick; because of love, you tilted the umbrella towards me; because of love, you were afraid of infecting me but also wanted to cheer me up; because of love, Only when I see your smile can I feel a warm power... That is the scenery in my heart. The flaming red umbrella is your eager heart; the dripping white clothes are the rain and dew of your love, right? This is a picture that remains in my heart, a landscape of love... Curiosity Why? Both of them are old, and they live in a house only a few meters apart. Why is it necessary to shout every few minutes? Every time I go to my grandma's house, this thing always arouses my curiosity. Grandma is eighty, but she is not blind or deaf, and she can still squint in the house and do needlework. Her grandfather, who was three years older than her, became ill and refused to move around. He always sat on a wicker chair and basked in the sun. They were only a few meters apart. After a few minutes, grandma would put down her work. "Old man!" grandma called. Grandpa didn't respond, so grandma became anxious and walked over with broken steps. Grandpa is fine, fast asleep on the wicker chair. So he laughed like a child and said, "This old man, I don't even notice him even if I call him." This kind of thing happens every day. I'm curious. Is grandma bored? No one speaks? Then why did she just shout instead of chatting with grandpa? What are you calling grandpa for? Are you still shouting like this? I think of grandma’s back every time she sees grandpa well and leaves with satisfaction. The sun always shines on grandma at the most perfect angle, and every time such a picture shines with a warm brilliance. Is it okay as long as someone agrees? I continued to think curiously. That's good. When this happens again, I will cover my mouth and reply slowly like my grandfather: "Alas..." But grandma can tell it every time, whether I cover it with cloth or cotton to make the sound more realistic. "The little girl is causing trouble here..." Grandma's wrinkled hands would pat me gently to show her reproach. Smile slightly. Grandma is still the same, and my curiosity is increasing instead of decreasing. Forget it, I'm burning the boat. "Grandma, why do you keep shouting like this? It's not annoying." Grandma looked at me and smiled tolerantly: "Girl, you don't understand. Only when you know he is well can you feel at ease." Her heart was wet. . It is a drop of dew in the stamen. The curiosity that had been biting my heart like a bug for days was satisfied. When you are here, I feel at ease. This is the most beautiful scenery in the world. What's the big deal? What does it matter if you grow old? When you are here, I feel at ease. I think that's what love is. The people I love and miss must exist well where I can see them, where I can reach them, and where I can walk. I am glad that I have curiosity, so that I can know the care, warmth and love of my grandmother's generation. I know, those calls are saying that as long as you are here, the whole world is here.

Sunshine Zone by Famous Writers Qiao Ye (female writer) One noon in spring, I came home from get off work and saw my mother drying the quilt, so I wanted to dry the quilt too. I took out the quilt and dried it on both ends of the clothesline. After lunch, I went to work. When I came back from get off work, I saw my quilt as soon as I entered the house. Different from noon, they have been exposed to the sunniest area, and the setting sun coats the snow-white quilt with a light layer of gold. But my mother's quilt stayed lonely at both ends of the clothesline, and the shadows of the houses silently drew monotonous and regular geometric figures on them. I walked to my quilt and touched it with my hands. They were warm. Of course they are warm, as warm as a mother's hands. I touched my mother's quilt again. They were cool. Of course they are cool, as cool as the back of mother's hands. Many episodes from the past suddenly appeared in front of my eyes: the bed sheet with the best texture in the house, the room with the best location, the most beautiful pot of flowers, the most delicious dish, and even the pattern when eating. The most exquisite bowl... these things are mine, just like the sunshine around me. I know that for my mother, these episodes are not accidental. In the short but long journey of life, your friends may be what makes you happy, your family may be what makes you beautiful, your career may be what makes you fulfilled, but it must be your mother who makes you warm. She always uses the back of her hand to block you from all the wind and frost that she can, and also uses the palm of her hand to release the endless warm sunshine for you. Mother is the eternal sunshine.