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What are the traces? And what kind of ripples will it cause? Elaborate on such a process:
Life is probably a kaleidoscope, with prisms and polished spheres dividing the world into pieces, and after each rotation, you can see the traces of different life past. At this time, we take out a opaque box, it is a special and magical box, press the shutter "click", the traces can be preserved for a long time, can be tasted and reminiscent at any time. Well, that's the trace, and it has two processes – deduction and being memorized.
In the three years of junior high school, our class changed classrooms twice. When we were in the first year of junior high school, we were arranged by the school in a two-story house, and our class was in the second classroom on the second floor, there was no electric fan, let alone air conditioning, and the glass that was not very strong made a loud noise when the wind and thunder blew, which made people feel very insecure. The new school building is brand new and sturdy, but after leaving the dilapidated old classrooms, the students are reminiscent of the old classrooms
There are corridors on both sides of the old classroom, the corridors are very spacious, and the trees in the old campus are tall and verdant, and there is often a breeze blowing from the left to the right with the fragrance of plants. The classroom of the second year of junior high school is on the second floor of the large teaching building, and there are no curtains, and when the evening is in the preschool, the sunset will shine in through the front door, and it will extend from the desktop of the first student in the second group to the back, which is very warm. In the third year of junior high school, the classroom was moved to the fourth floor of the large teaching building, and at the beginning it was very unaccustomed to climbing the stairs, and every morning I was panting into the classroom, and at this time, the school was building a new teaching building, and the two-story house for the first year of junior high school would be useless.
During the three years of junior high school, we spent three classrooms and stored traces in many places. The three blackboards that have been written and erased, erased and written, and the boards full of various subjects are repeated over and over again, and you can't see them again, but they remain in the minds of every student; The six doors that open and close, in the opening and closing, are printed with the palm prints of each of our students, and our hearts are preserved; Every conversation, every lesson, every laughter that echoes in the air of the classroom, these traces are engraved in our sea of life, helping us to move forward bravely, and the waves stirred up by us beat the gorgeous music of life.
We leave traces, and traces will encourage us to grow.
The homeroom teacher of the third year of junior high school has always cared about me. My grades are always up and down, unstable, unsteady, and rough. Whenever I failed, my teacher always helped me find a breakthrough, and she told me
The next time you rise up, you will only be able to see how much effort you put into your struggle. "These words give me the motivation to persevere in overcoming every little obstacle without being in a hurry to meet the great light at the last moment. Until my sophomore year of high school, I was able to move forward with confidence in myself, and it was inseparable from the traces of encouragement that too many people left in my life.
Caring for others is a beautiful trace, which will give others the strength to work hard and the belief to move forward.
In the colorful kaleidoscope, in the fine film, the traces are a kind of imprint that allows us to forge ahead in the aftertaste, each trace is old and new.
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Many times, a parent's love is like a bird that flies across the sky – it comes and goes without leaving a trace.
It was a dark evening, and the wind was blowing outside the window, so I finished cleaning the classroom and began to pack my school bag, and I was ready to go back to my house in Leadtown. "Click" A thunderclap suddenly sounded in the sky, and then the heavy rain poured down I secretly screamed in my heart, put my clothes on my head and rushed out, just arrived at the school gate, two familiar figures flashed into my eyes It's my father, and my mother, but both of them only have an umbrella in their hands Mom smiled and said to me: "Your dad and I came directly from the office, and we didn't bring more umbrellas, let's fight together."
No, the rain is too heavy, and both of them will be wet, so I'll give this umbrella to Shihao. Dad hurriedly said as he stretched out his umbrella. "I fought with my dad.
Saying that, I jumped under my father's umbrella, my father held the umbrella in one hand, and tried his best to hold my shoulder with the other, and the three of them and the two umbrellas were hidden in the mist, and I felt so happy and happy at that moment.
Suddenly, one picture after another flashed in my mind: I remembered that I forgot to take my homework book with me because I was in a hurry to go to school, and after my father found out, he ran to send me to the classroom; I remembered when I forgot to get home because I was playing basketball, and my mother was hurrying around looking for me; I remembered his eager voice in the microphone when I called my father on a business trip: "The fuse is in the toolbox on the balcony, and you must not forget to pull down the brake knife first when you put on the fuse"; I remembered every time I took an exam, my mother's advice before leaving home:
Don't panic and believe in yourself. "There are so many memories of the past that I can't help but cry.
The love of parents is like the fragrance of lilies, which slowly converges and no longer drifts away. I think there may be no one in the world who will say that they don't love their parents, but can they say that they can fully repay their parents' love? Perhaps far from it.
In the eyes of my parents, love is to walk with you, and you will never get tired no matter how far you go, so I will never forget my father's ardent words when he held my draft composition: "Change it, change it again and you can transcribe it." "I will never forget my mother getting up early in the morning to make breakfast for me - life is too long, and this moment is happiness.
As I write this, I can't help but think of the biblical prophet Elijah covering his face with his hands, not daring to look God's face in the face. I think that parents can enjoy this right, and they have the holy things that "God" has sown on the earth.
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In this world, there are many traces. Traces left by people walking by, traces of rubbing on the desktop, traces of pen drawing on paper, ......But I think that some traces are not only superficial, but traces left on the soul, maybe the past that you remember vividly from your childhood, and I have learned a lesson from this once.
It seemed to be the summer of seven years old, my mother took me to Tongyuan piano shop to learn violin, we arrived there only at nine forty o'clock, the teacher did not come, I played in the piano shop, playing, after a long time, I found that my mother was gone, I hurriedly ran out of the door and looked around, "Oh, it turns out that my mother is talking to someone else across the road", I thought to myself, while continuing to fiddle with the balloon in my hand, at this time, before I could react, a gust of wind blew my balloon off, I was about to catch the balloon, In a hurry, I kicked it, I hurriedly chased it, the balloon naughtily jumped onto the road, I rushed up desperately, "bang", a red motorcycle sped past my lap, I was hit to the ground, my legs were bloody, fortunately there were no fractures, I was so scared that I couldn't cry, just sat stupidly, my mother also ran over, distressed and accused me of being so careless, and picked up a cigarette butt next to me and stuffed it into my pocket (I heard that it can keep children from being frightened).
Alas, this "accident" has taught me only a profound lesson, and it has also left deep traces in my mind.
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In my memory, my father was strict and my mother was gentle.
I remember that after a final exam in the second semester of the fifth grade, my parents who were full of confidence said: "The questions in this exam are too simple, especially in mathematics, you can definitely score more than 95 points, so you can wait for my good news!" "My parents were very happy and made me a lot of delicious food, which made me feel happy.
But on the day the results were announced, I was dumbfounded, like a bolt from the blue, I, an excellent student who has always been at the top of the class, only scored 89 points in this exam! I returned home nervously and timidly handed the notice to my father, who happily took the notice and threw it to the ground, and my father's face immediately turned cloudy. Said to me angrily
What's going on? Didn't you say you could score 95 or more? I said timidly
I, I don't know, maybe I'm too coarse and careless. "How many times have I told you, don't be careless, don't be careless, check carefully after you do it, don't look around, you just won't listen!" "Alright, don't be so fierce with her.
My mother came over, stroked my head, and said kindly, "Do well next time, you have to work hard!" "I was very uncomfortable and determined to study hard and get good results in the next exam.
Sure enough, in the next final exam, I became the first in the whole grade with an excellent score of 98 in mathematics, 97 in Chinese, and 100 in English.
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When it comes to "love", we are no strangers. There are traces of love between teachers and students, between relatives, between neighbors, and even between people who have never known each other. Love in a glass of fragrant milk in the morning; Love is in the bright and warm sunshine; Love is in the spring breeze of Hexi; Love is in the cordial greetings and smiling faces of any person.
Love is all around us.
When the weather is cold, my mother brings a dress for you to put on, and the whole body is immediately warm. No, it's more of your mother's love that warms your heart. When writing homework, I made a typo, and when I sat down, I handed me an eraser and sent a smile.
I must be very happy in my heart, and I write smoothly and write like a god. Is it the clean workbook and neat writing that make us happy? No, it is the love of our classmates, and the friendship of everyone gives us strength, makes us feel comfortable and full of academic energy.
When the test results are sent down, it is very unsatisfactory, and you are in the midst of self-blame and grief, and the teacher pats you on the shoulder, comforts you, and encourages you. The warm current wells up in my heart, and I am determined to study hard, live up to everyone, and live up to the teachers who have worked hard to cultivate me. This is the love of the teacher, the love of the teacher and the student makes you forge ahead, turn grief into strength, and stand up bravely again.
There are many people who are patient with Mo Fengxia: the impoverished Hong Zhanhui took in a sister who was not related by blood, and provided her with school, calling him a man. Take care of her and take care of her.
Let's ask, who can adopt a lonely little girl who has never met each other in a pot? This is not only the virtue of the Chinese nation, but also the action of this family. Love is all around us.
The flowers bloom because the sun gives them love, the willows sprout because the rain gives them love, the peach and plum bear fruit because Mother Earth gives them love, and the crops ripen because the farmer uncle gives them love. We mourn the defenders, outside of us.
The strange words opened, and the thought was not very strong. But the rice-sized flower still struggled to give off its full fragrance. This fragrance is a love for the world.
It doesn't expect anything in return, and it's even easy to forget. It is silently adding color, a reminder, and a love to this world. It is the embodiment of love.
True love is not reciprocated. As long as there is a place in the world that can accommodate osmanthus flowers, it is the existence of love.
Every love is unassuming. Ordinary, but noble. Every love has a noble silicon element that cannot be analyzed by chemistry.
With a little love from everyone, the world will be a better place. May the fragrance of osmanthus around us become more and more intense. The original life is more and more fragrant.
May we all be able to exude this intoxicating fragrance. The original world is full of love.
Your smile has lit up my world.
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