Narrative essay on lamps, essay on lamps .

Light the heart lamp (1).

A few small three-story buildings, a small yard with a big kapok tree, red walls and green tiles, factories rumbling outside the walls, car horns, this is my home, an orphanage on the outskirts of the city. The only thing that really belongs to me is the iron frame bed. A notched porcelain basin in the cafeteria and the sky seen from the kapok tree.

Even among these "outcasts" I was a special one, because I was brought here by my parents, the well-dressed man and woman, when I was five years old. All the children here looked at me with disgust and laughed at me. All the adults spoke to me in a tone of pity and disgust, and I did not resent them.

Because every time I wash my face, I am frightened by the face inside, and the blinding bright red crawls all over most of my face, and they say it's because of the fire. I also hated this face.

The director of the orphanage was very kind to me, he was the only one who would look at me and smile, his eyes were full of tenderness, and my mother used to look at me like that.

I sat under the kapok tree and looked at the sun in the sky, it was sunny and comfortable. But it doesn't brighten my heart. From afar, I saw the dean walking towards me, with a smile in the corner of his eye. She walked under the tree and asked me, "Yang'er, do you like this tree?" ”

Well, I prefer the sun in the sky, it's very bright and bright. ”

Do you know why you love the sun? Because you don't see hope, and the sun represents hope. ”

Wish? "What do I wish to do? The dean said, "Do you know what color kapok is?" Red. I closed my eyes and remembered the blinding red, and my voice became sharp: "I hate red!" ”

You'll like it, Yang'er, you've been here for more than half a year, and you haven't interacted with anyone else, so come to me tomorrow and paint with us. ”

The dean asked me to paint with a few other girls, and I really didn't want to hear the ridicule of others, so I ran away from the tree, for fear that when I turned around, I would see the tree bright red.

The next day, as expected, as soon as they entered the classroom door, several girls who were drawing screamed, "Ah! What are you doing here, you ugly bastard! Go away!

The dean immediately scolded, "What are you doing! She's here to paint just like you, and you're going to treat her like a friend!

So I started painting.

Unexpectedly, I had a talent for drawing, the dean smiled from ear to ear, and the girls gradually talked to me, but there was still horror in their eyes, the light in my heart became a little bigger, and the days became happier, and I began to laugh, and the face was not too terrible.

That day, the dean said that the kapok had bloomed, and I was still a little apprehensive in my heart, what would the red tree look like? The dean took my hand, "Don't be afraid, go and see, believe in me and believe in yourself." "Under the tree, I slowly opened my eyes and was stunned, such a bright color ......

The dean smiled and asked, "Is it pretty?" ”

I nodded subconsciously, and the dean whispered, "Red can be beautiful, you can also be beautiful, be confident, open your heart, okay?" "The walls of the heart are torn apart, and the sun fills the heart.

The dean's love and the fiery kapok finally opened the door of my heart at this moment and lit up my heart.

Consider the phone, think about it, think about it.

Writing Bai Ideas: You can write "street lamp", with du "street lamp" obscure, send light to people without asking for anything in return, to elaborate on the noble spiritual quality of street lamp, the center should be clear and so on.

Text: I like the obscure street lamps on both sides of the highway the most.

Whenever the messenger of the night quietly descends to the world, the street lamps on both sides of the highway are lit up, and the orange lights are soft, warm and quiet. Under the soft light of the street lamp, everything around is there, Shen Yun, everything seems to be in a dream, so quiet and mysterious. Our small town is also more beautiful against the soft light of the street lights.

The light hung through the mottled trees, and the delicate grass under the trees lay quietly in the soft light like a sleeping baby, peaceful and peaceful. People who have worked hard all day walk leisurely under the street lamps, innocent and lovely children play under the street lights, and cheerful laughter floats in the starry night sky.

As the night wore on, the casual crowd gradually dispersed, the noisy town quieted down, and the sparse pedestrians were uncles and aunts who worked the night shift. At this time, the street lamp is still silently contributing its quiet light, shining all the light of Baiji on the earth, giving some light to the night, illuminating the way forward for the people who walk at night, soothing the fear in their hearts for them, and sending them a trace of warmth.

The guards on both sides of the highway stood tall with their heads held high, never bowing their heads in the wind and rain; Day by day, year after year, it always silently sticks to its post, appears when people need it most, and sends light, warmth and joy to people.

There is a faint taste called happiness. The smell that surrounds my nose is the smell of my mother's hair.

Mom loves me. Together with my home. Someone once said, "Home is a person waiting for you in the dark night with a lamp." "And mom is the one who lights the lamp.

The night wiped out the last rays of the setting sun, and the night was shrouded. In an instant, a few mischievous stars popped up in the sky. The moment I was wrapped, a light directed me home.

Through the glass window, I faintly smelled my mother's hair, and I instantly noticed that the smell of home was so strong.

The sorrow of a child is always doubled by the mother. "I can't remember who said it, but I never forget it.

When she was sick, her mother snuggled up to the bedside and guarded her, her blood-red eyes filled with tears; When I failed, my mother was always frustrated than me; When I was in pain, my mother was always sadder than me. This is the ordinary and great mother.

After several springs and autumns, Fang woke up and understood that this fist loves his son and his mother's love. But now my mother is suffering from illness in a distant place. I learned that there is no greater love in the world than this strong maternal love.

In my dreams, I still smell the fragrance of my mother's hair, and I follow my mother's habit of lighting a lamp every night. By the glass window, let the night dim and tell your mother, "I'll wait for her at home". I have grown up as a confused person, and I have matured as a naïve person.

I remember what my mother taught me in life, and learned that the lucky only have the responsibility to care for the unfortunate, that there is no reason to discriminate against the unfortunate, and that I have learned to regard the misfortune of others as my own sad ......

I want my mother to see the lights, think of her children, and think of home. Because, tonight I lit the lights again......

The lamp turned on: "A drop of water never dries up until it is put into the sea, and a man is most powerful only when he merges himself with the collective." "Yes, only collective development can lead to individual progress. We must always work for the good of the community.

That's what I want to say the most.

On Thursday morning, the moment I walked into the classroom, I noticed that the classroom had changed, it was much cleaner and brighter. Look closely, "Yikes! The lights are fixed," I shouted involuntarily.

This incident made me happy throughout my morning self-study, and I remembered more things. I think this unique feeling is not only for me, but also for the whole class. But this convenience is not a blessing from heaven, but a hard work of teachers and students.

A few days ago, a lamp in my class was "blinded", which made the teachers and students very distressed, in order to ensure that the students' learning was carried out normally, the teachers began to "rescue" the work, looking for wires, looking for switches, finding faults, solving problems, and asking maintenance personnel to ......They are like bees collecting honey. In order to restore the "health" of the electric light earlier, even the usually naughty classmates in my class actively participated, running errands, doing small jobs, and communicating ......completely threw away the previous embarrassing appearance, and suddenly became serious and industrious. After 3 days of busyness and rushing, calculation and thinking, this light finally turned on again.

Although its appearance is much older and rougher, its practical value has not diminished back then, but surpassed those young tube lamps, and the light it emits is so white, beautiful and charming. I think this light is the best testimony of the efforts of teachers and students, the most valuable reward they have received, and the crystallization of the unity of teachers and students.

This little thing in life makes me feel a lot, the interests of the collective need to be safeguarded by us, everything should be based on the overall situation, our contribution to the collective does not need any return, as long as the collective needs it, we are satisfied. Isn't there a saying that "power does not come from the body, and it does not have to be for oneself"? Let us always remember this sentence and let the lamp of unity always shine in our hearts!