Who can help me write an essay on family affection ! About 600 words or so

1 Grandma's canvas shoes.

The breeze blew in front of the bed, and went gently, leaving only the paper wind chimes outside the window, echoing leisurely, like a grandmother's long whisper, although it was not pleasant, but it was also serious.

The fire in front of the stove rose with a thick heat and spread out like twilight. The light of the fire reflected on my arm like a splash of wheat. The water vapor in the furnace pushes up the lid and makes a "fluttering" sound.

I closed my eyes and listened carefully to the soft sound of my grandmother's canvas shoes rubbing against the ground.

Grandma, I can't remember the songs you taught me when I was babbling, and I can't remember the whispers you whispered when I fell asleep. I can only listen to the echo of the paper wind chimes you weave as they sway, the aftermath of the water in your boiler where you boil water.

Pluck the paper wind chimes and smooth out every wrinkle as if touching your calloused hands. Each bell leaves a trail between your fingers, and every fold leaves a crack in your palm. I seem to see you sitting peacefully at the head of the bed, with your hands folded with paper wind chimes and reading glasses behind your loving gaze.

I seemed to hear the needles slowly passing through the bell, rubbing and squeaking, and stringing wind chimes, swaying and singing in the breeze.

In the hazy morning light, my ears seemed to linger, and the strange symphony of pots and pans played in front of the stove. Open your sleepy eyes and listen, it's the sound of you cooking for me after waking up in the morning. So I got up in my clothes, and I saw you in front of the fire, adding wood to the stove, and the stove in front of me was steaming with fluttering water.

Your canvas shoes tremble slightly with your body, and under your thin figure, there is a sound of the soles of your shoes. In the firelight, my tears melted away with the wood in the stove.

Now you are gone from me, but whenever I close my eyes and listen, the paper wind chimes outside the window and the water vapor in the furnace tell me that your canvas shoes are again at the bedside and by the stove.

Mother-child affection is an eternal theme. It is this family affection that is thicker than water that accompanies us through every unforgettable day and composes our colorful life.

Through that window of history, I peeked, I saw the family affection, and saw the stories of the past, the present and the future.

More than 100 years ago, thunderstorms, torrential rains, raging winds rushed to the small boat carrying the child, the child and the mother on the shore cried heartbreakingly, but to no avail, so the flesh and blood were separated, and the wind was howling, it sneered at this scene, laughing at the emaciated mother who could not change the fate of the separation of flesh and blood. Not only did I see this century-old tragedy, but on the other side of the window, I saw the thoughts of the heavens in the days when flesh and blood were separated. The stars are changing, and the years have passed, but they are thousands of miles apart, and they are also separated by the thoughts of mother and son.

Yes, family affection can be diluted by distance and time! In the long night, the fishing boat was lit with fishing lanterns, and through this faint firelight, the son seemed to see the thin figure of his mother as she watched with tears. "Mother", my great mother, I must return to you!

Hope" made the son believe that the darkness would one day be dispelled by the bright sun, and finally on a sunny morning, the little fishing boat sailed into the harbor where he was born, and the mother and son wept and rippled, and were very excited, and the window of history watched quietly, and it was proud of the mother, and for the son. It remembers the joy and tears of that moment.

However, I found that my mother still had a trace of depression hidden under this joy. It turned out that the mother also had a son, his name was Taiwan, although Taiwan and his mother were only separated by a gorge, but Yi Yi was not able to throw himself into the arms of his mother. There was helplessness in his eyes.

On a dying tree next to the window of history, a bird with a wounded wing cried: "Mom, I want to go home, go home .......""The cry of the bird makes the heart ache of all who hear it. Ah, I saw that the mother of the wounded bird flew to save her child, and the mother bird was tired of flying to find the bird, but at the moment she did not stop, but was busy treating the bird's injuries and finding food for the bird.

At last the little bird was healed and flew in the air with his mother, and looked around: the old dead tree had sprouted new shoots under the moisture of the rain.

The wind is clear, the clouds are quiet, the sky is blue, and the grass is green. Because of family affection, the world becomes wonderful; Because the family affection is there, the mother and the child will be reunited.

Our most precious thing is family affection.

It's a key.

Open the window of our hearts.

Let the heart be warmed and strong.

It is a clear spring.

Wash away our fears.

Let the heart be nourished and courageous.

It is an electric light.

Illuminate the darkness in your heart.

Let the heart be bright and self-colorful.