Speech by the spokesperson of the school for targeted poverty alleviation

A mother's love.

A writer once said: The contest between nations is essentially a contest between mothers. I agree with that.

I can't measure a mother's love for her children with a balance or a thermometer, or even describe what it looks like. All I know is that the power from my mother is so ordinary and so great, and its light is dazzling and shocks the whole world.

A mother's love does not distinguish between spring, summer, autumn and winter; A mother's love is no matter where the world is. Before I knew it, it had been more than a year since I left my hometown, and I was quite emotional when I thought of the gray hair on my mother's temples and her expectant gaze at me. On the scales of love, as my body grew heavier and heavier, my mother silently increased the weights, and without complaint took on the hardships of my growth, moving the weights with difficulty, maintaining the balance of the scales.

The mother once waited for her daughter to return from school in the autumn wind and rain, the hair wet by the wind and rain, the wrinkles burned by the sun, and the wayward daughter sometimes made an awkward fight over a popsicle. Sometimes, the daughter listens to her mother's nagging and covers her ears impatiently. Sometimes, the daughter is tired of the single and boring life at home because of the restlessness of certain thoughts in her heart.

Sometimes, when the daughter's school sweeps her eyebrows in front of the dressing mirror, she never notices the crow's feet that have been unintentionally expanded by the years. And my mother tolerated everything I had, still giving her daughter fiery love in silence and bringing meticulous care to her.

May 12 is the holiday of all mothers in the world. And how can my mother's love for me be measured and compensated by a formal festival? From today onwards, I want to be a person with ideals and ambitions, study and live seriously, and strive to achieve success in my studies in the future.

I think that's what my mother's wish is great.

The line in the mother's hand, the wanderer's shirt, is densely sewn before leaving, and he is afraid of returning late. Whoever says an inch is careless, and he will be rewarded with three springs. This poem by Tang Dynasty Meng Jiao always made me light the candle of longing and an eternal belief and pursuit in the days when I left my mother.

BYOND has a famous song "I Really Love You", which sings about the love of all children for their mothers. But after 19 years, I didn't really do anything for my hard-working mother, and I didn't even say a word of ordinary greetings.

Whenever I stand in a foreign land and look at my hometown, looking for my mother's familiar back, I always have a lot of thoughts. Today, my daughter, who is studying in a foreign land, cannot bring a beautiful bouquet of carnations home to see my dear mother, but with the help of a ray of sunshine in front of me and the light wind blowing through the south, I send my blessing to my mother: "Mom, I love you! ”