A 600 word essay on the subject of a poem

I have an appointment with the classics.

I have an appointment with a classic book, "Journey to the West". When I was a child, I always loved to listen to my parents tell me so many interesting stories ...... "Journey to the West".

On the day I was a child, my mother told me the story in Journey to the West: "There is a story in "Journey to the West" called 'Three Dozen White Bone Spirits'. The white bone spirit is very cunning, she wants to live forever, so she wants to catch Tang Seng and eat Tang Seng's meat.

So he thought of a way, when Sun Wukong went to make a fortune for Tang Seng, the white bone spirit found that this was a godsend, so he turned into an eighteen-year-old woman and walked in front of Tang Seng, deceiving Tang Seng and the remaining two apprentices. Just about to start, Sun Wukong came back, and he recognized it with his fiery eyes that it was the white bone spirit who raised the stick and beat it, but the white bone spirit left the fake corpse, and the real body returned to the white bone cave. Tang Seng originally wanted to drive Sun Wukong away, but under the persuasion of the two apprentices, he stayed.

Later, the white bone spirit changed one after another, and Sun Wukong saw through it, and beat the white bone spirit to death with a stick. Tang Seng thought that he had been ** one after another and drove him away. He went back to Huaguo Mountain to play with his monkey grandson.

At this time, when I thought about it, I realized Sun Wukong's strong will and the spirit of tolerance for others. Now I can't help but have a poem in my heart, "I am not afraid of broken bones, I want to leave my innocence in the world", I found the truth of being a man from Journey to the West.

Once, in the final exam of primary school, I was the third in my class in Chinese! When the teacher reported the scores, I noticed that there were a few people who were only one point lower than me, and I breathed a sigh of relief and thought to myself, great! I was the third, and the teacher said that there was a reward for the first three.

After a while, the teacher sent the roll down, I looked at my paper with satisfaction, and suddenly found that there was a typo, I took a closer look, it was really wrong, but I thought about it, it doesn't matter, anyway, it's just a point, I lost it or the top three. I "scanned" my paper again, and I found two more typos! If I lose it, I'll drop a few places!

Do you want to talk to the teacher?

Suddenly, a classic story flew through my mind, I told the teacher that I had three typos and wanted to fix them, and the teacher looked at me with approval, and my heart seemed to be happier than the top three......

The scriptures have made me understand the truth of being a human being, and it fills my mind with a wealth of knowledge. Classic, it is waiting for me to dig its ...... on the road of life

Have an appointment with tea.

Thunder rumbled, raindrops the size of walnuts fell onto the earth, and on the sturdy tea trees on the mountain, patches of tea were enjoying the moisture of the rain.

Early in the morning, I went to the mountains with my eldest mother to pick tea, and yesterday's raindrops were still hiding in the grass on the roadside, and swallows, sparrows, and many unnamed birds were flying freely.

We crossed the creek and came to the tea grove. Row by row, cluster by cluster, like soldiers neatly arranged. Big Mom jumped down, followed by me.

I picked the freshly drawn shoots like my mother, the pale green color, fresh and tender. The eldest mother also sang a song while picking, called "New Song of Tea Mountain", and boasted that she danced the tea picking dance when she was young and won an award! But looking at his skillful tea-picking skills, I can't help but believe it.

Happy time always flies quickly, and after a while the basket is already full of tea leaves. Strength work is always done by men, and I carried the basket and ran to my mother's house.

Next, the work of roasting tea leaves will be handed over to the big father. He first heated a large cauldron, the pot was placed a little strangely, it was placed at an angle, and then the pot was coated with a layer of oil, called tea oil, and the tea leaves would not be scorched after applying this oil. After pouring the tea into the pot, the big father's big hand was like a spatula quickly stir-frying the tea leaves, over and over again, I saw that my hands began to itch, so I shouted to the big father to teach me to fry tea, the big father couldn't resist it, so I had to let me try, at first it was okay, but then I felt that the pot was getting hotter and hotter, and my hand no longer dared to stretch in, so I had to reluctantly give up learning to fry tea.

Big Dad smiled lightly and continued to stir-fry skillfully, "No wonder Big Dad has so many calluses on his hands, it turns out that they are all fried tea leaves." "I was thinking, the tea leaves are fried, and now there is only a small pile left in the basket that was originally full, and I have to fry it again.

Playing with the tea leaves that have lost their moisture and appear to be dry made me really feel: a hard work, a sweetness.

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