The number of words I searched for about the topic of growing up was about 350 to 400 words

Grow. Time flies by ......We grow unconsciously.

With the shards of sunlight under my feet, I walked to the old house.

The old house is very ordinary, just a wooden house, the red couplet on the door has long been eroded by the years, and the stone slab under it has been polished into a pleasant gray by years of rain, which is very ordinary.

There wasn't much left in the room, just a bed, a table and chairs.

Gently wiping the dust off the chair, sitting on the chair, I remembered my grandfather. He used to sit here and tell me stories: "Wu Song fights the tiger, Zhou Yu of the three qis, Journey to the West......"Even if I want to hear it now, I don't have the opportunity anymore.

Go further inside. It's the kitchen, and I remember that I used to use coal for cooking. The white lime is somewhat peeling off, revealing mottled marks.

There was a large pile of dry wood next to it, and it seemed that I could still smell it, a smell of charcoal. It was as if I saw my grandmother's kind face smiling at me again; "Come, look, how delicious. ”

Looking at the stairs up the second floor, I wanted to jump up the wooden steps like I did when I was a child, and as soon as I jumped one step, the planks made a heavy noise, which made me worry about whether the planks could bear my weight, so I had to do it. When I remember the "babbling" sound of the wooden board when I was a child, I liked to jump on it, and I would be like a child who got a lollipop.

Standing on the balcony, I looked up, the sun was shining, and I looked into the vegetable garden, and the ginkgo trees had already grown past the wall, rustling, as if to welcome my arrival. A few farmers are working hard there.

In the process of growing up, we cried, we laughed, we succeeded, and we failed. With the passage of time, we gradually become mature and sensible. Yes, growth records pain, but also engraved joy, along the footprints of growth, step by step, we move towards maturity, towards the future.

Growing pains.

The process of growing up is the process of troubles.

When I was a child, I didn't know what troubles were, and I didn't seem to have any worries.

In the past few years of primary school, the wind and waves were calm, my parents held an "umbrella" for me, and the teacher shielded me from the wind.

When I was in junior high school, I learned the word "trouble" in Chinese class, and when I thought about it, I didn't have any worries when I entered junior high school. I was restrained, I didn't dare to speak loudly, I didn't get the top 10 in the exam, I failed in the math competition, and the class activities I worked so hard to manage didn't work well......What bothers me the most is that the name of the English specialty class is Sun Shan. My parents didn't blame me, my teachers didn't blame me, and my classmates encouraged me sincerely.

I fell and didn't bleed, but the bruising hurt me more. I was depressed, I blamed myself, my heart was bleeding. I began to feel that the troubles were not so frivolous and could be forgotten, that I had failed so many people and broken their hearts, and that I was sorry for the hard work of the teachers and parents.

Now that I'm in high school, I'm at the beginning of another fork in the road in my life, and I'm going to face a new choice. Now, I am worried about the score, and in the face of the unsatisfactory score, I have a question mark in my heart. "How do you explain when you go home?

Will the teacher criticize? Will classmates laugh? "To be honest, I really don't know the bottom in my heart!

I don't want to taste wrestling without bloodshed anymore. Why do people grow up? Why do you have to stumble to grow up?

The troubles of growing up are like stars in the sky, and I can't count them endlessly, so I have the answer: don't worry about frustration, let alone worry about troubles. Man is the master of life! Stepping on the beat of the times, let us bravely face the troubles of growth.

Yes: Growing in laziness.

For the children of 1997.