The deep imprint of the composition, the trace of the memory of the composition

1. In my life, there are many things that I will never forget, but what is the most memorable for me? I will never forget the fact that I lost the election for deputy squad president, and this incident has left a deep imprint in my mind, and it will never be erased.

It was a sunny day, and I returned to school with excitement and nervousness. Do you know what day it is? Today is the day of our class, the first class of the fifth grade, to run for the new members of the class committee.

You must be wondering: what does it matter to you that people are campaigning? Because I'm also going to run for a position – the vice-president of the fifth grade class.

This is the first time I've been running for class leaders since elementary school!

The afternoon finally arrived, and after a speech by the host, the competition began. When it was my turn, I went up with nervousness, and as I spoke, my nervous mood relaxed, and I read as if no one else was around. After coming down, many of my classmates told me:

Well said, vote for you! "I listened to the joy in my heart, and thought that I must be able to be the deputy squad leader. A day passed, and a day passed, and I looked forward to the stars, and the moon finally looked forward to the day when the results would be announced.

It took me these two days to truly appreciate what others often say; "Spend your days like years"! The taste. I arrived at school early that day.

I kept thinking in my heart, and kept saying to myself, "Will I lose the election?" What if I don't make the cut.

In the afternoon, the teacher finally came to the classroom and said, "Today, I want to announce the new members of the class committee. "The teacher began to read:

Squad leader: Zhou Zhuohui. Squadron Leader:

Huang Siyan. Deputy squad leader: Qin Zhenghua.

In that instant, my whole body collapsed. I'm defeated.

At that time, I wanted to cry out loud, but I didn't dare! How dare I in front of many classmates and in front of Mr. Wu! Think:

Why do my classmates distrust me so much? Qin Zhenghua and I have so many votes, why can't he get me. And Mr. Wu didn't trust me either.

Mr. Wu, am I really that bad? Why can't you give me a chance to exercise, this is my first time running, you didn't give me a chance, so how can I have confidence next time! The more I thought about it, the more I hated Mr. Wu and his classmates.

In hindsight, I thought about it a lot, and finally figured it out. I know that I don't blame Mr. Wu and my classmates for this, it's my own fault, it's my shortcomings too much, my classmates don't trust me, and I will continue to improve myself and do my best. I hope that when the new members of the Nether Class Committee are announced, the teacher will read:

Deputy squad leader: "Xue Kai! ”

In our ordinary daily life, everyone is familiar with composition, which is composed of words, through human thoughts, through the organization of language to express the meaning of a theme. So how is a general essay written? The following is the trace essay in my memory that I have collected for you, and you are welcome to learn from and refer to it, I hope it will be helpful to you.

In the vast sea of people, having you is the greatest happiness in my life.

The winter sun seemed to be still chilling, and the breeze was blowing, and I seemed to see my grandmother staggering towards me through time and space. At this time, I remembered the days when I was accompanied by my grandmother.

In the early morning, when the fog was about to break and the dew was still sensitive, I took my grandmother's old hands and said, "Grandma, grandma, let's go to the field to pick Chinese cabbage, okay?" "Grandma smiled and saw me:

Okay, let's go pick Chinese cabbage! "My grandmother and I carried a small basket on our backs and walked on the road in the countryside, probably because of the early morning dew, the path was wet and wet our trouser legs. "It's not a pity to be stained, but the wish is not violated."

The vegetables in the field grew "fat and strong", and the eldest was the eldest, and my grandmother looked at these fruits in exchange for sweat, showing a bright and innocent smile.

Grandma took the sickle, bent over, and put the vegetables in the basket, and the cabbage in the basket lay comfortably like a baby. I followed my grandmother's movements and used my "little sickle" to dig cabbage. The sunset dyed the sky red, and that glimmer of light shone on my grandmother's face, which seemed to reflect her wrinkles, "Hey, grandma is old."

Let's go home, kid, and eat stir-fried cabbage tonight. Seeing my grandmother waving to me with a basket full of baskets, we went back.

The fried cabbage is really fragrant, and it goes well with rice, and it has a homely taste.

When I was growing up, there were always many different kinds of "family affection" wrapped around me, and this was the trace in my memory.

Tags: essay memory.

Time can change everything. What was once a solid stone bridge will now be a ruined wall, and a once flat avenue will now be a pothole. Only the deep footprints are still silently watching the vicissitudes of the world.

Life is a long journey, and many people will go forward desperately, so the string of footprints will be left behind them. But I'm going to say "no" to that, I'm going to go backwards. Walking backwards, I can see the footprints I left behind – landscapes that were once forgotten.

Walking backwards, I saw the footprints of parting. We used to read together, we used to play, we used to spend the wind and rain together. On the day of parting, the sparse raindrops hit us mercilessly in the face.

We were still so stubborn that we never said "goodbye". In this way, we all turned our backs and walked in the direction of the two untouched points. Only the crying of raindrops was left.

At that moment, it was confused.

Walking backwards, I saw mature footprints. Once upon a time, I learned to think, to think about the true meaning of life; Once upon a time, I learned to comprehend, to comprehend the warmth of the world; Once upon a time, I learned to taste, to taste love and hate; Once upon a time, I learned to feel, to feel joys and sorrows, ......When I understood that these were signs of maturity, the moment, was pleasantly surprised.

Walking backwards, I saw the footprints of happiness. Happiness doesn't need much reason. It is a blessing to be able to walk quietly through the streets and alleys with your companions; It is a blessing to be able to enjoy the moon with your family on the night of the full moon in the Mid-Autumn Festival.

Happiness is just plain, no flowery rhetoric, no pithy language, only a bit of tranquility, peace in the heart. I found that I had happiness, I left the footprints of happiness, and at that moment, it was beautiful.

Deep footprints, deep footprints. The footprints are on the road of life, and the road of life is condensed in a string of footprints. From these footprints, you can see a different kind of scenery, and you can find the most beautiful in the past.

The footprints of spring are the breeze, the footprints of summer are showers, the footprints of autumn are the fragrance of rice, and the footprints of winter are plum. These are the deep footprints of the four seasons in my heart.

In the bubble of beautiful memories that filled me, there was a bubble that was extraordinarily gorgeous, and it contained a person who impressed me the most - an old woman.

It was a sunny winter afternoon. I was walking on the way to the bookstore, and there were a lot of pedestrians on the side of the road. At this time, a fashionably dressed young man ate a cake while walking, and casually dropped a piece of wrapping paper.

The paper swirled low in the air. I glanced at it, but didn't pick it up, thinking; I didn't throw it anyway, so it's okay. The others just looked up and watched the piece of paper fall to the ground little by little, and had no intention of picking it up.

There is suddenly such a piece of waste paper on the clean road, which is particularly dazzling. But I walked into the bookstore on my own.

When I was shopping for books, I saw through the glass window that your plastic paper was moving little by little in the wind. Then. From a distance came an old woman on crutches, walking with difficulty, bent over, hunched over.

The wind blew the piece of paper under its feet. She looked down and looked around. After a moment of hesitation, she slowly bent down and picked up the paper with difficulty; Then she got up again little by little with her hand on her crutches, carefully put the piece of paper into the trash can, and then she walked ......

Sixth grade: Zhang Lixuan.