Please help me find a few articles about fatherhood and motherhood, thank you

When the students copied the knowledge written by the teacher on the blackboard, have you ever thought about what left the handwriting on the blackboard so that we can get the knowledge? As my classmates know, it's chalk.

The chalk is short and white, and looks very inconspicuous, with one end pointed and one end wide, like a wooden stick. It is made of lime. You don't think it's short, small, inconspicuous, and not as shiny and ornate as pens, brushes, and pencils, but it can be far more useful than pens, brushes, and pencils.

It is precisely because of this little chalk that he silently sacrificed himself that he cultivated batch after batch of outstanding talents in the motherland.

In the classroom, the chalk is silently lying on the ordinary lectern, silently waiting to dedicate his life, the gray-haired teacher, taking its white and flawless body, let it dance freely with the sound of "squeak", with the graceful dance of chalk, on its unique stage, depicting a line of handsome and beautiful fonts. However, with the end of this "song of dedication", the chalk's body gradually shortened and ended. But it was never afraid, but silently shortened until it was reduced to powder and vanished into the air.

Although it does not have a mouth that can speak well, and a gorgeous coat, and some of it is only silently giving, it is no wonder that some people will compare it to the most glorious profession under the sun - teachers.

Do you still underestimate this little chalk? There is greatness in the ordinary.

There is a kind of love in the world, it is everywhere, it makes you take it wantonly, and it makes you accept it calmly: there is a person in the world, who is unknown, and gives you all her love without asking for anything in return. This kind of love is called mother's love, and this person is called mother.

The alarm rang mercilessly while I was asleep, and I rubbed my eyes and reluctantly crawled out of the bed. It's really comfortable for my mother to not go to work today, and she can sleep until she wakes up naturally, and she doesn't have to go to school, which is really a beautiful thing. I thought to myself, and at the same time I was a little jealous.

I had a final exam today, and my mother just threw me a sentence of "take a good exam" before going to bed last night, and that's it. So I complained about my mother's indifference.

When I opened the door, the living room was bright, and the sound of the soymilk machine working was faintly heard in the kitchen, and I walked to the kitchen in confusion. "Morning! Go brush your teeth and wash your face, breakfast is almost ready.

The oncoming sound of admonition. "Oh. "Looking at the bread and boiled eggs on the table, I was stunned.

When did my mother get up? Could it be that when I met "Zhou Gong", he had already dragged his tired body to prepare breakfast for me? When my mother got off work yesterday, she said that she was very tired and needed to sleep in.

After washing, I accepted the tenderness as usual. "It's an exam today, you need to eat more! You have to take the test well, and only when you are full can you have strength.

Mom started babbling on and on again. And I, there is always a word without a word, from time to time with an "um" sound, I am always like this.

Riding a bicycle is like going back to my childhood.

At that time, every day, every time, as long as my mother was there, it was endless nagging, but I never listened seriously, and sometimes I thought that my mother was looking for me, which was unreasonable, and I didn't feel a trace of unease, and sometimes, I even replied directly "You are annoyed". Is that my response to my mother's love? I smiled wryly.

Kindergarten, elementary school, every time I go to school, I feel relaxed, because all the books, all the snacks, my mother helps me to hold, I don't have to worry about anything. Sometimes, I occasionally feel my conscience uneasy, that is, I ask "Do you want me to help you", "No, you just go by yourself." When I heard my mother's answer, I was so relieved.

Hehe, it's my thing, but I asked if you want me to help you.

Looking back on this, I don't feel regret and guilt, when did the care that tired me become so dazzling? Those verbose and fault-finding testimonies to my stupidity and unfilial piety. It turns out that those love, those gentleness, are worth cherishing and deserving of me.

Meaning. In the face of her, I began to understand, I began to understand, I began to understand, I began to understand that what you have must be grasped well, because it becomes meaningless to cherish it after you lose it. Mother's love, give me a chance to cherish.

In this colorful world, who taught us to learn to say the first sentence, who taught us to learn to take the first step, who led us into the paradise of knowledge, let us climb to the peak of science, it was their parents who selflessly dedicated themselves, they fed us with sweet milk, nourished us with the nectar of love, they were the first teachers in our hearts, and there are many unforgettable memories in my childhood stories.

I remember when I was in kindergarten, every night, when I lay in the warm quilt, my mother told me that interesting story in her gentle voice, which made me intoxicated by the story and slowly fall asleep.

Time is flying around me, I changed from a naïve child to a primary school student who is about to graduate I remember the first math test in the sixth grade, I think high scores are like catching fish in the basin——— nine out of ten, but, it backfired, the truth is like a naughty child always loves to play tricks on people, careless, I only scored 88 points, at that time I really felt like I knocked over the five-flavor bottle, very uncomfortable, I really don't know how to explain to my parents back home, when Dad asked about the score, I swallowed, Two tears couldn't help but flow out of her eyes, and when my mother saw it, she asked, "Is it miscellaneous?" I said

I only took the test for more than 80 points, and my father listened to it, so he comforted me and said: "Don't be sad, it doesn't matter if you fail once, as long as you learn a lesson and work hard in the future, you will definitely be able to get good results" Mom took my hand and said kindly, "The mother of failure and even success, come, Mom and you analyze together" After listening to the encouragement of my parents, the "sad plum" in my heart disappeared, and my mother helped me analyze the reasons for my mistakes while teaching me to be careful in doing things, and I also listened to them.

Mother's love, what a warm and kind word, in the process of growing up, you can clearly feel the breath of mother's love everywhere, as soon as you say that your mouth is full of mother's love. But who has really paid attention to and read the mountain of fatherly love?

When I was a child, I was only in middle school, I saw other children riding bicycles to play, so, I also wanted to learn, so I asked my father to buy me a bicycle, at first my mother taught me to ride a bicycle, I rode a bicycle, my mother held the back seat in the back, afraid that I would fall, I have been holding on to death, not daring to let go, for fear that as soon as I let go, I will take the bicycle to lie on the ground together, just like that, I learned a bicycle for a week under the "care" of my mother, but I have not learned.

When my father saw this, he said to me, "In the future, my father will teach you how to ride a bicycle," and I said happily, "Yes, yes."

That afternoon, my dad started to tell me to ride a bicycle: I was riding on the bike, pedaling the pedals, and my dad was not supporting me in the back, unlike my mom, my dad just gently held on to the saddle, and I was afraid of falling, so I kept shouting to my dad: "Dad, hold on, dad, don't let go, or I'll fall."

Dad just smacked in the back: "Uh-huh, uh-huh." "I staggered ahead and rode hard, muttering

You can't let it go, you can't let it go. When I got up a long way, I looked back at my father, but I found that my father was "gone", looking into the distance, it turned out that my father was standing far away, looking at me, I thought to myself: Ah, my father didn't help me, thinking, somehow, I fell down with the bicycle, my father hurried over, I stood up, pointed to the bicycle and said:

Daddy, help me out. But Dad shook his head and said, "Help yourself."

I said angrily, "Hmph, it's all your fault, I fell, really." "But didn't you learn to ride a bike?"

Dad said proudly. At that moment, I read fatherly love. A father's love is like a mountain, he is not as delicate as a mother's love, but sometimes it is greater than a mother's love.

I read it: there is a kind of fatherly love called "letting go".