Anxious, anxious, anxious, urgent, with the theme of finding the footprints of love, can you write a

Yes! You can first write that you are a very rebellious child, always disgusted with your mother's nagging, and then suddenly wake up through a few small things, and find that maternal love is the greatest and most selfless ......Then turn the easing of the relationship with the mother step by step into footprints!

MotherIn everyone's growth path, mothers are dedicated to a selfless emotion. My mom was the same, but her love for me took another form.

In order to broaden my horizons, my mother took me on trips since I was three years old. In order to learn to be strong, during the journey, although I was still babbling and walking and wrestling, my mother would never hold me, and even when I fell, my mother would look at me with "stern" eyes - looking at my pleading eyes, watching me burst into tears until I got up. I don't understand my mother's ruthlessness, and I only remember my mother's faint words:

One day you will get up on your own, one day you will have to walk on your own, I am for your own good. "I am very aggrieved, for the sake of my mother's ruthlessness.

There is one more thing that sticks in my mind. When I was young, my mother asked me to learn the piano, a piano lesson, I was in a very bad mood, so I was always listless in class, and my mother on the side did not leave me any affection, and I was counted down in class, and I finished the next course with anger. I thought I could go home easily, but unexpectedly, my mother inexplicably called me to the side of the road and told me what I had learned in class.

At this time, it rained in the sky, and the rain fell on me, but my mother ignored it completely, and I was trembling, and tears couldn't help but flow, but tears have never been useful to my mother. Looking at my mother's tense face and raised eyebrows, a pair of eyes scorched by anger shot out two cold lights, and I could only choose to obey when I was young. But in my heart, I really hate my mother.

The rain was still falling, and my mother's face softened a little, and she continued to explain the content of the class to me until I understood. Looking at the water on my mother's face, I don't know if it's rain or tears.

It was in this "deep hatred" that I spent eleven years. However, in the past 11 years of growth, with various achievements, I truly understood the meaning of my mother and slowly chewed on this love. It turned out that every garment I worn, from top to bottom, was washed by my mother's own hands, and those hands were warmer than the hands that held me in the heavy rain.

It turned out that I didn't know that my mother's simple phrase "come home early from school" was called "concern"; didn't know that the mother dragged her tired figure in the kitchen and was busy called "love"; I didn't know that the cup of hot milk in front of me in the morning was called "happiness" ......Now that I've grown up, I understand that this other form is good intentions.