Essay Touch How to write an essay titled Touch

Touching the Future can write about the future technology on display at the Shanghai World Expo.

Uh......If it were stronger, it would be best to write a stream-of-consciousness article on this topic! Of course, the writing should be slightly better, and avoid running accounts!

I rub that he wants to take this essay to the contest! Everyone's report him! Stop writing!

What to touch? Why touch and not use it any other way....Think along the way.

Touch happiness. I still remember when I was a child, I would be elated by the birth of my neighbor's kitten, I would be happy because I got a beautiful candy wrapper, and I would live in my own fairy tale every day, and I felt so happy! Now, as the years pass, the joy seems to be diminishing day and night.

Reading boring textbooks every day, swimming in the sea of words, and flying high in the sky of the topic, you will only be elated by making a difficult problem. The head is crowded with knowledge, and there is no place to hold "yourself". When the sun was also tired, sprinkled on the edge of the sky with a touch of afterglow, I leaned on the windowsill and asked myself:

Are you happy? One day, I was shocked to hear that a classmate had leukemia. She was a good friend of mine and I still have the fond memories she left me.

Her petite body and sweet smile still came to my mind clearly. Now, she ......After the shock, I fell into deep thought. Early morning.

Draw the curtains, and when the first rays of sunlight shine in, reach out and touch the sun and enjoy the warmth of winter: the evening. Push the door and get out.

At first glance, I was attracted by the beautiful scenery on the horizon. The dark blue sky precipitates the beautiful gifts left by the sun, yellow, pink, crimson, purple, layer by layer like sandwich biscuits, it seems that you can really feel its sweetness! The treetops of a large tree are embedded in it.

It had lost its leaves, but it showed a tall torso, and a few early stars hung from the branches. The moon also appeared on the side. They complement each other.

It makes for a wonderful picture, ah, how beautiful! Stretch out your hand and touch it gently, there is a good feeling, maybe this is happiness! Yes, that's happiness!

I don't pursue much happiness, but I observe the details, and there is happiness in the details. It dawned on me that to have life is to have the greatest happiness. Because we enjoy life every day, we never feel its preciousness, and we often wake up when it is about to pass away.

Only with life can we read, study, feel the warmth of the sun, and appreciate the wonderful picture ......Suddenly looking back. But the happiness is in the lamplight! Feel life with your heart and touch happiness with your heart!

It was very late at night, and there was the sound of my mother's even breathing in my ears, and I turned over as little as possible, but accidentally touched a warm and rough hand.

That's Mom's hand.

Touching my mother's hand, my ears echoed when my mother told me about when I was very young. At that time, my mother's big hand held small hands, and my little hands were wrapped in my mother's soft, slender but powerful hands at that time. Mom said that I followed her like a little follower, pestering her to play with me and clapping my hands, and my big hands clapped my small hands, and my mother deliberately reduced the force, in order not to make my young little palms red.

Touching my mother's hand, the applause of that time rang in my ears again. At that time, I was in the third grade of elementary school, and my composition was excellent in my class. At the parent-teacher meeting, I read my essay aloud, and then looked at my mother in the crowd, and I remember seeing her clapping hard, and then standing up, my mother smiled like a beautiful flower, and the sound was so loud.

Mom's palm is so red.

Touching my mother's hand, my shoulders felt heavy again. I remember that at the end of elementary school, I was hooked on **, and my grades dropped rapidly. At 11 o'clock in the evening, I was still sitting under the light at the desk and hurriedly making up my homework, my shoulders suddenly sank, my mother sat next to me, the hands that had become no longer slender were on my shoulders, my mother's eyes looked into my eyes, she didn't say anything, I felt that the hand on my shoulder was so heavy, so heavy.

Touching my mother's hand, the cool smell of shampoo seemed to overflow my nose again. I remember, it was another final exam in junior high school, I always used to wash my hair the night before, my mother insisted on helping me wash it, my mother's warm hand gently rubbed my head, calloused fingers helped me pull up the hair hanging down in front of my forehead, my nose was full of happiness, it was the cool smell of shampoo. Mom pressed it gently, again, and again.

Touching my mother's hand, my eyes came to me again when she was crying. I remember, that day we had a fight, and the argument turned upside down. The rebellious I said something very hurtful to my mother, and I almost blurted it out.

Mom's slap fell on my right cheek, I was stunned, and suddenly realized how hurtful my mother I said, I looked up in astonishment, and saw my mother's crying face, she was crying, for the first time, in front of me.

The night, as if it had deepened a little more, I withdrew my thoughts, interlocked my palms with my mother's fingers, and fell asleep:

I hope that in my dreams, I can still have these hands of my mother.