The essay on borrowing things as a metaphor should not be too long

An ordinary cylinder, cloaked in red, with an "antenna" on its head, is a candle.

Candles are a very common item, I'm sure everyone has seen candles! It's very cheap and it's available all over the world. You must be surprised to see this, candles are so common, why should I go to such lengths to introduce them?

It is true that candles are ordinary, but I am deeply attracted by the spirit of silently giving to others. It illuminates itself, illuminates others, and does not ask for anything in return. Thinking of this, I can't help but think of the cultivators of the flowers of the motherland, the pillars of the pillars of the motherland, and the teachers who have paid silently for us.

Every day, the teacher comes back to school early to teach us the principles of life and impart a wealth of knowledge. Everyone says that the teacher is a gardener, a guiding light in the vast sea of people. But I would say that the teacher is a candle.

A teacher for one day, a father for life. "The teacher has cultivated the flowers of our motherland with hard work and sweat, so that we have become contributors to the motherland, and we have never been selfish to ourselves and do not ask for anything in return. If there is no teacher in your life, just like there is no candle in the event of a power outage, your life will fall into darkness.

At this time, I remembered an ancient poem I memorized last semester: The spring silkworm is dead to the end, and the wax torch turns to ash and tears begin to dry. This sentence could not be more suitable for teachers.

The teacher still insists on attending class until his gray hair is gray, like a candle, sacrificing himself to illuminate others.

Oneself. Candles, it's so ordinary, and it's so great. In the future, I will also be like a candle, silently pay for the society, selfless dedication!

One night, I was doing my homework in my room while my parents were surfing the Internet. Suddenly, the lights in the room flashed a few times, and before I could react, all the lights in the house dimmed. Ah, there's a power outage.

The house was pitch black, and I couldn't see my fingers. I was sitting alone in a dark room, a little scared. At this moment, a bright light appeared next to the door, and it turned out that my mother had brought me a lit candle.

Mom put the candle on my desk. Suddenly, the whole room brightened up by the candlelight, and I was relieved to write my homework in the candlelight.

Finally, I got my homework done. Just as I was about to leave the room, I stumbled upon the half-burned candle. I sat down again, staring intently at the candle and watching it burn little by little.

At this time, I was moved by the spirit of the candle. It burns itself, but it brings light to people. Although it has an ordinary appearance, it has a rare spirit.

At this moment, in my eyes, it is no longer an ordinary candle, but a great person, a person with a spirit of selfless dedication. It is not for fame and fortune, it never thinks about itself, but silently lets the fire that burns itself illuminate the darkness. It dedicates its life to humanity, so to speak, without reservation.

This is the spirit of candles.

Suddenly, the lights in the house came back on. It turned out to be a call. However, the candle on the desk had burned out and turned to ashes.

Although the life of the candle is short, it brings light to people during this time of power outage, and it is meaningful in this life. At this time, I remembered a maxim: "When the spring silkworm dies, the wax torch turns to ashes and tears begin to dry."

Although the candle is ordinary, it has a spirit of obscurity and selfless dedication. We must be a person with the spirit of candles, and contribute our own strength to the society and the country!

You can't write it yourself, it's a nasty, bad student.

The candle, although it is not as bright as the lamp, I love it. Because it is always dedicated in obscurity.

Candles are usually indifferent. However, when the power goes out, it will always stand up and use its life to drive away the darkness and bring warmth and light to everyone. The minutes passed, and the white cylindrical body of the candle became shorter and shorter, but this did not allow the small one to extinguish the fire until the last moment of its life.

Its short life is all about giving to others. Every time I pick up a candle, I feel a warm current flowing through my body. Because I marvel and admire its spirit.

This spirit is what we should learn from.

Candles, how ordinary it is, and how great it is! It is always silently dedicated. It's not as bright as the lights, but I love the spirit of it.