Ask for an essay named Support with a word count of 800 or more

When I was very young, it was popular to watch a game in which a child put his hands in the palms of his parents, put his hands on them, and let his feet go free. I love the feeling.

I always begged my father, and sometimes my grandfather, to spread out their big rough hands and help me. Hold your hands and your feet in the air. Every now and then, I really felt the big hands that were supporting me quickly tighten and grasp my little hands.

Although those big hands trembled in the support, they held the joy of my childhood steadily.

Later, as I grew up and grew taller, I could no longer fly in the palm of their hand. I learned to play parallel bars. Yes, with your hands in the air and your feet in the air.

However, the feeling of taking off is no longer the joy of flying, but the tremor of fear. What is grasped in the palm of his hand is no longer warm care, but a cold metal bar. The palms of my hands became numb under the influence of temperature or pressure, and I lost my balance.

I never understood why the parallel bars tamed in the concrete floor made me feel so insecure, while the hands of my loved ones could give me solid warmth in a slight tremble. Only now do I realize that in fact, the source of support is love. When I was a child, I relied on the power of love in those big hands; Growing up, I was afraid of the indifference of parallel bars.

Trees support the birds' nests. The birds sing carefree every day because they know that no matter what the storm, their home will be safe and sound. The majestic trees support the bird's paradise with love.

Marble columns support the vines. The vines take a leisurely walk every day, because they know that until the sea is dry, this tough Optimus Prime will stand here and let them climb and rest. The towering stone pillars support the future of the vine with love.

Support comes from love, which is a deep emotion poured out in an eternal posture.

The love that supports is flowing from heart to heart with strength. Just like the Chinese butterflies on the ice rink in Turin. They clasped their hands together, interlocked their fingers, and held their hands together, their feet free.

The love conveyed in that support made the injured Zhang Dan write the legend of chrysalis into a butterfly with a smile in the undried tears.

It is precisely because support comes from love that it will be sublimated in transmission and return. The birds released return the smart sky of the forest, the ripe vines return the joy of a bumper harvest on the stone pillar, and the victorious Zhang Dan returns an affectionate hug from his partner. And what do I use to repay the support of yesterday's love?

Maybe it's today and tomorrow.

Today, love is a growing struggle that supports the hope in the hearts of loved ones.

Tomorrow, love turns into a crutch and supports a brilliant sunset.