I m in my third year of junior high school, and I m in urgent need of five excellent narrative essay

Write it yourself.,Today's children can't write narratives.。。 It's true that those who publish articles are all harming teenagers.

, "It's a Beautiful Landscape".

"My Sky Forever".

"It's all - the fault of it".

"Smiling Proud--".

"Life Needs-".

"How to solve worries, only -".

"If I I-".

"Tell you, I'm -".

"In My Eyes-".

"Life Needs-".

I grew up in Fatherly love.

Tick tick ......Once again, the rain is washing nature! It's like my father used his warm and philosophical words again and again to heal the wounds in my soul.

At this moment, my heart is seriously infected with the virus again. I had a quarrel with my good friend, and I couldn't get angry. When I got home, I didn't like anything, and I wanted to be anxious with anyone who didn't provoke me, so that the dog was afraid when he saw the dog, and the cat was afraid when he saw the cat.

When I was writing my homework, I actually blew up my pen. When my father heard this, he sat down beside me and said, "What?

Feeling bad again? You had a fight with a friend, right? It's normal for friends to quarrel with each other, but it's up to you how you deal with it.

Find your own reasons first, and think about whether you have not done a good job. Be tolerant between friends, don't be petty, and be brave enough to apologize to your friends if you are wrong, true friendship can stand the test, and friends will not worry about you. Don't study with a bad mood, it won't work.

After listening to my father's words, my mood suddenly brightened, just like the sky after the rain, so bright and pure as new. My mood is sunny again!

My life grew with my father's love: when I failed, my father would use the flame of his love to rekindle my hope; When I am frustrated, my father's love will turn into a wave of heat, surging in my heart and encouraging me to keep moving forward; When I was proud, my father's love formed an ice seal, sealing my pride and complacency in the ice sculpture, and giving me a humble way of doing things.

With my father's colorful love, I have my colorful life, and I am grateful to my great father, who let me grow up happily and become more perfect under a baptism of love.

Remember a blue umbrella.

My gaze has been tied up in a blue umbrella for so long......

It was blue, as clear as the sky.

When I was a child, my mother always came to pick me up from school with a blue umbrella, and my head was blue, and my shoulders were shrouded in blue, and there was a blue rainless sky as far as I could see.

Later, on a rainy day, I looked up and talked to my mother, but I found that half of my mother's sky was a gloomy gray, and the wind mixed with raindrops fell into my mother's gray sky, my mother's shoulders were wet, and the hair on her forehead was also wet, and 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 gaze falling on the tilted handle of the umbrella, "It's true, the umbrella is crooked." Mom stubbornly said, "No, there really is no ......."”

Later, when I grew up, I no longer asked my mother to pick me up on a rainy day, and the blue umbrella faded in the cabinet year after year, and I thought I had forgotten about it.

Maybe it's a coincidence, it's a rainy day, and it's the blue umbrella again, under the umbrella are my mother and me, and I'm almost as tall as my mother holding the umbrella.

My gaze fell so unconsciously on the handle of the umbrella, and the scene was mixed with the scene when I was a child, my mother was shrouded in a blue, rainless sky. 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," Mom repeated. "Mom, it's really not crooked, no. There was a long silence under the umbrella, but when I looked back, I caught a glimpse of sparkling water across my mother's cheeks.

The faded umbrella reappeared as clear as the sky blue.

I finally understood that for so long, my mother has held up a rainless sky for me, and now, I want to give my mother a happy day, even if Meng Jiao said that whoever is careless will be rewarded with three springs.

So my eyes were drawn to the blue umbrella, and I was the one who fought under the lamp late every night, and I was the one who shuttled to the make-up class site every weekend ......