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In the ordinary study, work, and life, everyone has written an essay, which is composed of words, through people's thoughts, and expresses the meaning of a theme through language organization. What makes a good essay? The following is a kind of voice that I have collected and sorted out in the depths of my memory - narrative essay 500 words, I hope it will be helpful to you.
The morning sunlight poured into the room in a perfect arc, and a piece of gold was dimly parted.
I sat in front of the window, staring out quietly, but my mind flew back to when I was a child.
5 years old. On a sunny morning, Dad held my little hand tightly and paid no attention to the murmur coming out of my mouth: "Dad, I don't want to be separated from you, I don't want to go to kindergarten, I don't want to go!"
I looked at my dad with tears in my eyes, but he didn't pay any attention to it, pulled me, and said coldly, "Let's go!" Go over by yourself, I'm going to work!
I looked at his back in fear, and at that time, I saw his eyes full of concern and love, but I didn't think about it at all, because I didn't understand.
12 years old. I'm going to take the exam, I'm holding a gourd silk in my hand, my hands are full of sweat, because it's an 8-person competition, only two people can succeed, it's almost my turn, Dad suddenly said, "I'm not going to watch you play, I'm waiting for you outside!" I whispered in frustration, thinking to myself, I hate this unkind father, I walked up to the podium, and clearly saw the figure of my father, the familiar back, and the moment I turned my head, I caught his concerning, loving gaze, and I didn't think about it again, because I didn't understand.
12 and a half years old.
That day, it was my birthday, and I was looking forward to my birthday cake, when my father came back, he threw the cake on the table, and said coldly: "Eat it yourself, I have something!" With that, he walked ......I hated him so much at the time, I thought:
How can there be such a father! But when he turned around, I saw those loving eyes again, and I saw those eyes that I couldn't understand, what was wrong with me!
Right now. Dad said, "Silly girl, what are you doing there?" "I was startled and gave my dad a smile back, and at this moment, I understood," ...... silence is better than soundThose are ......”
A look, a look back, all contain a strong love, happy flowers bloom wantonly in my heart, at that moment, I understand!
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A voice that touches my heart.
I haven't been home for a long time, I miss the people in my hometown, the trees in my hometown, and the sound of the small river in my hometown.
The car was speeding fast, and my light heart floated out of the window like a wisp of smoke, and flew towards the small river surrounded by greenery. Seeing that I was dumbfounded, my mother gently pushed me before carrying me back from the little river, and I said, "When I see this river, I think of the little river in my hometown."
Xiaohe, I'm back.
The first thing that catches your eye is the rows of tall metasequoias, as if they are guarding the river, protecting it from the noise of the world. A little closer, you can hear the sound of gurgling water, clear and beautiful, like a ** master playing a beautiful song, all things in heaven and earth are infected by this sound, quietly listen to the sound of nature; Like a newborn baby babbling, this voice is the most primitive and pure, and it can touch people's hearts the most. When you get closer, you can see that the river water is crystal clear, the aquatic plants are abundant, and the fish are playing.
Pick up a piece of gravel, throw it hard, and jump merrily on the water, once, twice......I simply took off my coat and jumped into the water, not having time to notice whether the temperature of the water was appropriate, I only felt that my body was suddenly refreshed, and I swam back and forth in the water for three or four times to wash away the dust on my body, wash away the fatigue around my body, and wash away all the unpleasantness in school. Walk out of the river, lie on the grass on the bank, let the wind mixed with the smell of algae blow on your chest, blowing away the water all over your body. With the earth as the seat, the white clouds as the quilt, accompanied by the morning glow, stepping on the sunset, how can the noisy world on weekdays be compared with such a quiet life?
Today's people are accustomed to hearing the shouts on the streets, the sounds of various advertisements on TV, and the sounds of various popular **, and a few people are willing to trek through mountains and rivers to listen to the sound of low and hoarse flowing water in this barren mountain and wilderness, and taste such primitive and natural sounds. Under the impact of modern civilization, people have to make all kinds of efforts for their own survival, and even spend their entire youth to seek knowledge and earn money. May the beating hearts have a haven of their own, and I love the sound of the river in my hometown, guiding me to the retreat of my soul.
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You can write about the mother's, father's, or other relatives' voices [those who write these should write stories of caring, caring, and loving their children];
A friend's voice [perhaps it should be traced back to the memory, the past, the things that happened before, and then his voice and him are very memorable to you];
The sounds of nature can also be written;
What happened after an hour, such as returning to my alma mater, listening to the sound of reading aloud, talking with people, and laughing, reminded me of what happened when I was in this school before, when I was so old, and the voice at that time was deeply recorded and hidden in the depths of my memory.
These are just your own thoughts, first of all, you should first clarify the topic of "there is a voice", what is it, or whose voice it is. "Memory" then must be traced back to the memory, then what happened at that time. "Depths" why he is in the depths of memory.
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Writing about a sentence your parents said to you made you feel a lot, and since then, this sentence has been buried in the depths of your memory.
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