Essay Truth flows in life

What do you want to say, the cups are already empty, I close my eyes and my heart is snowing heavily, the weather is cold and freezing, is it time for love to settle the bill, only the loneliness of paying for each is left.

Inscription. I sat on a low stool like a fool and ate my father's peeled melon seeds, and my mother sat alone on the edge of the bed crying, which is the earliest picture I can remember of my parents arguing.

Day after day, I spent in this silence, there was no light in the house, it was always dark and dreary, and I wandered in silence like a ghost. During that time, my mother always asked me the same question: "Who will you be with?" I shook my head like a fool.

Mom sighed and shook her head, even though I didn't know why.

Finally, when I was 9 years old, my dad walked out of the house with an old suitcase. My mom and I stood like statues, silent.

What do you want to use to melt this silence, sigh in the cold air around you, turn into smoke and drift away, all the things in the past, roll into a snowball in your heart, afraid that tears will flow before you speak.

Dad's tall, thin figure eventually disappeared at the end of the road, and I would only look at the back and cry quietly.

A few days later, someone hired by my dad drove a truck and took away some of the furniture from the house. Suddenly, I felt that this home would be so empty. Dad didn't come that day, and Mom didn't cry.

There was really one less person in the house. It's just that every time I eat, I always unconsciously take three bowls, and when I look at the table, I find that there are only two lonely stools ......

Time really flies, seven years later, my father's face is getting thinner and thinner, and his hair is graying a lot, and every time I go to see him, I can't help but turn my back - I don't want him to see me crying. And my mother, too, is getting thinner and thinner, I tried, I tried, but I didn't have the strength to put together this broken mirror.

On Women's Day this year, I bought a bunch of carnations for my mother. Mom didn't say anything, she didn't do anything, she only used crystal tears to express her touch. I sat quietly, watching over my tearful mother, thinking of my father, who was in the other corner of the city, soothing my bleeding ......

A little touched by the passage of time After going through the long river of years, feeling the weight of life and the confusion of reality, we are often accustomed to complaining and indifferent, but we forget to be moved. Touching is a person, an event, a scene, or even a moment that flashes out in a trivial day. They don't need any artistic rendering to moisten our eyes and warm our hearts.

There are many shells buried on the historic beach, and I would like to be a shell picker to collect pieces of lost touch. At the time of the incident, Lin Hao, a 9-and-a-half-year-old second-grade elementary school student, was buried by a collapsed house with several classmates before he could run out of the classroom. Under the ruins, Lin Hao, who is the squad leader, not only organized singing, but also comforted the girls who cried due to excessive fright.

After more than two hours of hard struggle, Kobayashi finally crawled out of the rubble, but instead of escaping from danger, he returned to the ruins and rescued two classmates, who suffered multiple injuries to his head and upper body as a result of saving his classmates. When the reporter asked him why he wanted to save his classmates, he said, "Because I am the class president."

I was touched by his responsibility. I can't believe that in this ruin, which is filled with the smell of death, there is still a heart of curiosity buried. A child, holding a flashlight, wandered in the ocean of knowledge with a faint light.

I was moved, although this time ** ruthlessly hurt her, but it did not extinguish her demand for knowledge. I was touched by her intellectual curiosity. There was a mother who was prostrate and holding her child, protecting him.

When rescuers found out, she had already died, but the child in her arms was unharmed. In the child's swaddling clothes, they found a cell phone with an unsent text message on it: "Child, if you can survive it, remember that mommy loves you!"

The mother left her life to her children and death to herself. The text message she gave to her child before she died was also the only token she left to her child in this world. Her text messages touched me.

Without the joy of winning the grand prize, without the brilliance of being a star, the ordinary and ordinary little things in life made me understand the book of life and truly experience the true feelings of the world. It was the touching again and again that made me mature and realize the true meaning of life. Every touch is a purification of the soul and a sublimation of love.

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