Essays that describe the noble qualities of the characters don t be earthy 5

In the morning, listen to the birds outside chirping crisply on the branches; Listen to the fallen leaves fall to the ground with a "swish". At this moment, I seemed to hear the "swish" sound of the cleaner's broom rubbing against the earth. The sound is so elegant, so melodious, the birds, the leaves, the dust, the earth, all of these things are like the accompaniment to the sound of the cleaner sweeping the floor, playing a melodious "Morning Symphony".

It was such a morning that the simple cleaner came to my mind, causing me infinite nostalgia and reverie. It was a quiet morning, and the cleaner got up early and came to the street late to clean up. The "sizzle" sound of the cleaner sweeping the floor broke the silence of the early morning.

I sat quietly in front of the window, stopping to watch the cleaner. The cleaner was dressed in green overalls, with a big braid on his head, a white mask on his face, two watery eyes set on his pink cheeks, a white glove on his hand, and a broom. On the stone ridge, a mother and son sit.

I faintly heard the conversation between mother and son. "Child, don't be like that sweeper in the future, sweeping around the street with a broom, what a shame! We're going to live a life of glory and prosperity instead of working hard under the dust, you know?

The mother was educating her son. "Got it, Mom, I must raise a lot of money in the future so that you can live a happy life! "The young child chimed in.

Kid, it's good you know! Mother said, throwing the finished bottle of mineral water on the ground. The child reached out to pick it up, and the mother was furious and stopped her son

Why do you have to pick it up, do you have to lose my face to be satisfied? Don't be like the aunt who is sweeping the floor, always living in a dirty world, like a frog sitting in a well watching the sky, with shallow knowledge, doing this kind of low-level work. When the child saw that his mother was angry, he quietly stretched out his hand again.

Hearing these words, the anger in my heart erupted like a volcano, and I felt indignant for the cleaner. What's wrong with the cleaners, if it weren't for them, then the earth would be dirty, they are so noble, so beautiful, how can you who call yourself noble compare to those cleaners? And who is purer than those conscientious cleaners?

Just as I was struggling with the cleaner, the cleaner crept up to the mother and son, bent down, and built the mineral water bottle. I left in a hurry. Looking at the back of the cleaner in the distance, at this moment, my heart is really not a taste, as if I have knocked over the five-flavor bottle.

Ah, I admire them, they give us sweet milk. They sprinkled every drop of sweat on the boundless fertile soil. Ah, they create beauty, they are the creators of beauty, I admire them!

The moon in my heart (the selfless dedication of my loved ones).

At the end of an overgrown path leading to a mountain village, an old man in his sixtieth birthday stood in the moonlight and looked down at the road ahead. The dim shadow was pulled by the light of the moon, and the old elder ......This is the deepest impression she made on me when I was a child, she was my grandmother.

At that time, my mother was busy, and I always stayed with my grandmother for a few months of the year, and those months were the happiest times of my childhood.

My grandmother loved to play with flowers and plants, especially herbs. Reluctant chickens and ducks to peck food, reluctant to trample on children, reluctant to wind and rain, every day when the sun sets, my grandmother will take me to the spring water to water them, so that after a few months they grow up, pick, wash, dry, and then put away, not easy to give away, to keep for me. When I was a child, my coughing and irritation disappeared in these faint herbal scents.

Grandma never forgot her piglets, chickens, and ducklings wherever she went, and always tried her best to rush back to feed them. Despite all my efforts, in addition to subsidizing the family, I was reluctant to taste the fat pig and fat chicken, and sent them into my bowl, and then looked at me eating deliciously with a smile, and said: "Grandma only eats vegetarian and does not eat meat."

When I reached the age of going to school, I was taken home by my parents, and my grandmother happily sent me away, but secretly wiped her tears behind my back. A few years later, the backward small mountain village has also developed, and my grandmother's house has installed **, and my grandmother is happy like a child, and she has to play a ** every day to read a few words, what "the watermelon at home is going to ripen, when will I eat a few", "there are many herbs planted at home, I want to send it to you", "the fat pig at home is going to be slaughtered, come and eat" ......Anyway, whatever she says will eventually turn to me. When I said goodbye to me the year before last, my grandmother's hair was silver again, her legs and feet were already difficult to move, and her cloudy eyes were no longer recognizable, but when she heard my voice, she could still call out my name, and took my hand and babbled words that only she understood.

When I left that day, she struggled to get me to the entrance of the village. In the moonlight, Grandma still watched us leave as she had seen when we were separated, but her back was even more stiff, and her shadow was stretched out. A bright moon, a path, an old man, this light picture is engraved in my memory.

Sometimes love doesn't have to be loudly proclaimed, it doesn't have to be ups and downs, it doesn't have to be vigorous, just like the clear moon above the stone, gentle and soft, illuminating everyone's heart. I think everyone has a moon in their hearts, and I have it too.