Osmanthus tree essay 400 words

Under the bare osmanthus tree, there is often a young man lying down.

When I went for a walk in the park with my mother in the evening, I always saw him, he was very delicate, with big eyes and a somewhat handsome face. He was dressed in a rustic coat, black pants and a pair of antiquated sneakers.

He was carrying a worn-out one'The bamboo basket contains a lot of fruits, and when the fruits are sold, they pick up the mineral water bottles that people have discarded, and walk to the other side of the mountain as they pick them up.

But his mother respected him very much, and she always bought the young man's fruit, and when she had drunk the water, she would hand him the bottle, and he would smile and say:"Thank you"!I asked my mother why, and my mother always said that the melons he sold were sweet, fresh and cheap, and his character was very good, and he would always throw away the bad melons, and he would never lose two pounds or two, and he would never let the buyer suffer.

I gradually developed some respect for him, and in the morning I would always hand him the finished milk carton, and he gradually got to know me, and each time he said as always"Thank you"!”

The osmanthus tree beside him sprouted.

One morning, as I walked through the park, I saw an old man, with a cane in one hand and a broken bowl in the other, with gray temples and ragged clothes. I looked at the people around me, and one by one they walked past the old man with a cold face, as if nothing had happened, and couldn't help but turn their heads and walk towards the school. Suddenly, I saw the empty milk bottle in his hand, and walked towards the young man, and suddenly I saw the young man give the old man a large sum of money, one for one, and five for it, which was probably all his savings this morning.

I quietly put down the bottle and walked quickly towards the school with a red face...

The osmanthus tree grows dense branches and leaves.

On Saturday, my classmates and I went to the park and saw a blood donation cart parked on the side of the road. A classmate said that people who donate blood are fools, and I saw the back of the young man in the car and resolutely walked towards the blood donation car. Since then, I have never interacted with that classmate again.

The osmanthus tree spits out buds.

One morning, about two months after the young man came here, my doorbell rang suddenly.

The young man, he held a large watermelon on the table, said a few words to my mother, bowed and left, and since then, he has never been seen in the park again.

Later, I learned that the young man had come to my house that day to thank me, selling fruit and picking up bottles just to save enough for a train ticket to Beijing. His family was not wealthy, so he had to thank us with a watermelon, and he said that he would come to see us again and hope that I could study well.

It turned out that the young man was admitted to Tsinghua University, and he was frugal just to save money.

The osmanthus tree has bloomed, the golden flowers, the tree is full of fragrance, isn't that young man this osmanthus tree?