Write an excellent composition 1 Remember what we taught when we were young? That is the treasure left by our parents, and of course it is also a trace.
The traces at that time were given by my father, and of course those teachings also left a profound influence and image on me. Let me understand the meaning of traces, that is, the process we saw on the road, hard and tired.
A teenage boy, who is almost an adult before he grows up, knows that his father is worried about his work. Sometimes when his father looks at him, he always feels that he should teach his children, otherwise it will leave sequelae. He is especially a boy. It would be much easier if he were a girl.
That day, his father called him in and made him a real man. "Son, you are going to be an adult. You can't idle away every day." Father taught me.
"Yes, dad, I'm almost 18, so don't teach me. I also have dignity! " That boy is a little shy. "Dad, if it's okay, I'll go back and do my homework."
"Come back, who let you go? You don't even listen to me? " The boy's father said.
The boy wants to come, and so does his father. He was miserable and immediately turned back.
"From now on, I will solemnly correct your arbitrariness." His father seems to be serious.
"What personality! You are not ignorant, I have been like this since I was a child. " He predicted that it would end today.
"Well, that's it for today, you should pay attention!" Father said.
The next day, the boy really took things seriously, not only doing things seriously, but also wriggling and thinking like a little girl.
Yes, this story is really true.
Father always educates us so seriously, but we ignore it and fan the flames everywhere. Father left us too much, but took very little from us. That's father's trace, mother's experience.
There are no traces of wings in the sky, but I have flown.
-inscription
"March to the goal, come on!" The coach told me that I might laugh it off in normal times, but at this moment, I am standing under the rock climbing of 18 meters, wearing a seat belt and helmet on my head and stepping on the first floor of the hole to see how easily others can climb up. I regretted it at once, but I came up and couldn't go down at once. Let's climb higher and then go down, I said to myself.
"Let's cheer for her together?" The teacher called on everyone. At this time, I was about five or six meters above the ground. I hesitate whether to go down. I haven't made up my mind. The sound of refueling came. With the ardent expectations and encouragement of so many students, I had to throw my mind into the recycling bin, hang it in the air for a while and continue to climb. The gravel in the cave grazed my hand and looked up at the dazzling rock wall. Under the bright sky, the rock wall stands tall. The yellow railing at the finish line reflects the sun. Hanging in mid-air by ropes, I went back to the rock wall again, my body clung to the rock wall, my hands and feet were as open as possible, and I climbed up layer by layer. The tightened ropes reminded me that the finish line was getting closer and closer! The sun is slowly flowing, and the halo is sprinkled on me. In the louder cheers of my classmates, I reached out and touched the yellow railing at the finish line. After a short rest, the rope slowly loosened and I began to descend. When the rope finally came to an end, I returned to the ground, and my classmates and coach greeted me with a smile. "Welcome back to Earth!" The coach smiled and said to me.
I sat on the steps and looked at the rock wall. It's hard to imagine yourself up there. I'm nervous about this. When I came down, I felt sore all over. I open my hands. Large and small scratches are medals of victory. The pain all over reminds me that I have conquered18m rock climbing. Maybe no one will know in the future that a girl climbed to the top of the rock wall on an afternoon in October, and the rock wall won't leave my trace, but in the colorful pages of my time, she left a colorful and gorgeous stroke.
The sky remains the same, and I am different.
Trace excellent composition 3 "This problem is 3 1+" Our math teacher, Miss Lin, has been explaining this error-prone problem again! And we are also listening tirelessly under the stage, and our hearts are very warm! Very warm, because I am proud to have such a teacher! She once said, "My favorite thing to do is to teach students!" Do you think such a teacher can be good?
Once, I was sick and had to take a leave of absence to rest at home, so I missed three days of classes. I'd better stick to it and come to class later. Just arrived at the door of the classroom, a familiar figure came to me in a hurry. It turned out to be teacher Lin. She leaned over my shoulder and said kindly, "Li Fei, today is coming!" Are you feeling better? "I nodded and said," much better! " Miss Lin's mouth rose slightly and she smiled more brightly than flowers. She added, "You missed a lot of classes these days when you were ill. Don't go to my office to make up lessons today. " I nodded my head. Miss Lin still smiled like that and returned to the office.
During the break, I took my math book, math book and notebook to the math office. Miss Lin asked me to sit on the small table next to her. First, she told me the knowledge I left behind. I stood next to Mr. Lin, looked at Mr. Lin for a while, nodded for a while, and Mr. Lin pointed to each problem, drawing in circles in the math book from time to time, and carefully explained each problem. Later, I was asked to sit at the table next to me. I did the exercises without asking her carefully. I nodded, and my admiration came to me. But there is a problem that is really hard to understand. The teacher told me twice, but I didn't understand. Even I gave up on myself, but Miss Lin didn't. She told me the third time and the fourth time until I understood. When I walked out of the office, I flipped through a math book with notes written by Teacher Lin. Looking at the lines of words, I couldn't help but burst into tears.
Looking at the traces in the math book, I can't help but sigh: "Teacher, what an admirable profession. Teacher Lin, an admirable good teacher. "
Tracking excellent composition 4 loneliness. Cold and cheerless. Desolate. Dull. Grandma's face is like autumn scenery outside the window, old and weak. My heart rate is getting lower, my pulse is getting slower, and my eyes are getting cloudy. Finally, grandma's life disappeared with the increasingly fierce autumn wind, and the dandelion on the ridge could not be found in the wind.
So, in that cold autumn, there were two sparse stars in the sky, shining in the scattered clouds. Those are grandma's eyes. I think this is why grandpa likes to live alone at night and look up at the stars.
Grandma is like a star in grandpa's heart, illuminating that weather-beaten heart and a chaotic rainy day.
Grandpa is always doing everything silently by her side.
When grandma was in hospital, grandpa would pick a bunch of white dandelions from the fence in the country every day and put this white elf in the window. The breeze blew and the room was white and resplendent. At this time, grandma will open her mouth like a child, and her smile will slowly sweep the whole house like the autumn sunshine outside the window.
In late autumn, grandma can't turn over. Every sleepy night, grandpa will carefully turn grandma's swollen body over. Bathe grandma with warm water. Sometimes, staring at grandma's closed eyes for a long time, and then looking at the endless night sky outside the window, a blush appears in her eyes. He was afraid that he would only find his grandmother in the night sky.
In the winter of solstice, grandma has been walking in heaven for some time. Grandpa and I came to the short grave and looked at the beautifully framed black and white photo. My grandfather finally cried. The deep croak has a power to penetrate time and space. Grandpa rubbed this stone tablet with rough hands, as if touching grandma's white temples and wet palms. He put his ear close to the tombstone, eager to hear grandma's rhythmic heartbeat and laughter. Dandelions flying in the air beside the grave, white with his life. Grandma, can you still see it in heaven?
Grandpa's feelings for grandma are in this delicate place. Finally, like fireworks in the air, it is brilliant and charming.
The traces of time, separated by two generations, can't take away Grandpa's affection for you. ...
Tracing back to the excellent composition 5 "The geese have left their voices, and people have left their names." This voice, this name, is the trace we are pursuing.
Giving oneself up to save others is a mark worthy of praise. However, meaningless "self-denial" seems so pale and powerless. According to a newspaper report, a learned high school student lost his life trying to save a drowning student. This spirit of sacrificing oneself to save others is so admirable and commendable. Although his traces of life are short-lived, he interprets the value with "courage" and expresses the true meaning with "greatness". Of course, it has also left more and more thoughts to the society.
At all times and in all countries, the traces left by many celebrities are always fresh in people's minds. The spectacular scene shown in The Romance of the Three Kingdoms is the trace left by Luo Guanzhong. The hazy beauty contained in Mona Lisa is the trace left by Leonardo da Vinci; Medicine is the trace of Lu Xun's stupid practice from a unique perspective. They realized the true meaning of life and left their own traces.
Some people may say that "being remembered for thousands of years is just as great." How great and heroic such a world outlook and such values are! Not only is it really "infamous for thousands of years", but it "will never turn over". Qin Gui's feat made Yue Fei suffer for a long time; Qin Gui's feat once made Yue Fei feel helpless and at a loss. Qin Gui's feat once brought more trouble to Yue Fei. However, what the world remembers is Yue Fei's bravery and fearlessness, and what the world remembers is Yue Fei's defense of the country. But Qin Gui is "strong" in the traces of life.
"fierce"! The world spurns! The world is cursed!
History always moves forward, and people always move forward. The traces of history always warn everyone: "Only by staying awake will human beings be awake; The traces of predecessors also warned from time to time: don't repeat the same mistakes and walk calmly. People will never forget those who bring them a comfortable life and do good deeds, nor will they forget those who have done all the bad things and ugly faces. But the difference is: the former is immortal, leaving a beautiful trace; The latter has a long history, leaving a disgusting trace.
Everyone's life is short, so everyone should cherish every day, leave a real mark on themselves with solid steps, March towards success and work hard for the future!
Traces of excellent composition 6 geese leave their voices and people leave their names. This voice, this name is the trace, in fact everything is like this. -inscription
Spring breeze and Mao Mao rain
Chunyu has always been like an affectionate woman. Since ancient times, many tourists have been guilty of being prostitutes.
Maybe she is soft by nature, or maybe she seems to have traces, which makes people speculate.
Spring rain always likes to hide in the breeze and come slowly, silently but with traces. Spring rain is a thin thread that floats down from the sky one by one, making the flowers in the pond bloom. She brushed away the branches, dirt and tender leaves gently, and the yellow grass appeared, as if waking it up.
Spring rain falls from the sky like a beautiful woman enjoying the scenery. It is unhurried, but it attracts others to be intoxicated. The filaments are arranged neatly and fall one by one. Sometimes, they will be caught by the spring breeze, turn gracefully in the air and fall to other places.
The yellow grass on the soil and the green branches are silent traces of spring rain, but the silence is full of green.
Xishuiyou fish
Hiding beside a mountain stream, listening to the "ding dong" sound of spring water! Hey! "Singing softly with the birds is refreshing.
By the stream, you can see the trickle of Juanjuan, singing and running down the mountain, passing by several swimming fish, and don't forget Doby. You use your body to pass through the fine scales and water marks on the fish, bend and refract them, and turn them into gold. The stream passed by the fish, leaving a little trace, but it seemed nothing.
But look at the polished stones at the bottom of the river. Soft seaweed dances with the stream, bending down for a while and spinning for a while. It's so uncomfortable! Just as the wind blows the clouds in the air, algae are brought to life by the stream.
The stream also turned her traceless into a trace, from gurgling transparent traceless fine water to the water beside the fish and the dance of underwater algae.
Yes, everything in the world can be traced. What we need is a pair of eyes that are good at discovering and a heart that is close to nature. Don't let the fast-paced life infect you. Since you choose to live weakly in all things, you must learn to discover, observe and listen to the subtle traces left by all things. ...
When I woke up in the morning and saw the marks on the back of my hand, I couldn't help thinking of what happened last month. ...
One day last month, my good friend Xiaotian and I took a walk in the park. Grandpa Sun smiled kindly; Lovely butterflies play naughtily in the air; Hard-working bees happily collect honey. In this harmonious environment, our mood naturally improved, and unconsciously, we came to a big tree. "Ah! Here is a sparrow egg! " Xiaotian said to me in surprise. We looked up and saw a small bird's nest in the tree. "Let's send him back!" I suggested. Unexpectedly, as soon as I picked up the sparrow's egg, a sparrow flew over and beat us with its wings several times in a row. We have to leave.
After we left, the sparrow kept scratching at the sparrow's egg with its claws, as if to clip it up. But that sparrow egg is as smooth as a pebble. How can we catch it? Sparrows are running around in a hurry on the ground, screaming constantly, as if they want to get help from others. "Let's help it again!" I was moved by the sparrow's maternal love. "I'm not going! Be careful, good intentions are not rewarded! " Xiaotian reminded me.
I recall the behavior of the sparrow just now, and my heart is shaken. At this time, the sparrow began to cry anxiously again. "no! I must help him and save that little life! "
I picked up the sparrow egg again and rushed to the trunk desperately. Sparrows are in a hurry, chasing me, pecking and patting. I am angry and anxious: I am obviously helping it! You hit me! But despite my 10 thousand reluctance, the love in my heart urged me to send the sparrow eggs back to the nest. Close, close, only one step away! I put the sparrow egg firmly in the nest and fell into the grass, and my hand was cut by a branch. Sparrows are chirping and chirping happily by the nest. Although my hand hurts, the sparrow's happy appearance made me forget the pain immediately, but I felt very happy.
That scar still exists today, but I have never been unhappy because of this trace. On the contrary, I feel that this trace has brought me honor and made me proud!
Time flies, fleeting, for thousands of years, everything has left its own trace in the world. Some traces are deep and clear, and will not be eroded over the years; Some traces are blurred and soon disappear, while others are unforgettable.
Day after day, year after year, in a blink of an eye, I have stepped into youth from childhood. At a young age, I stand in this world of billions of people. Think about the traces I left. I can't help feeling proud. Who can leave the same trace as me? The answer is no, no one can leave the same trace. Your traces will be unforgettable, and some will make people warm. ...
I also have unforgettable traces. One morning more than ten years ago, I came into this world with a loud cry. Since childhood, I have been naughty, running around, doing nothing, and being taught by my parents is full of tears. After school, the teacher clapped his hands; During the festival, the scars left by fighting injustice ... these traces are unforgettable, but only the traces of time are the most memorable.
I have never seen the beautiful scenery of Guilin, the strange rocks of Huangshan Mountain, the high Himalayas, the bottomless rift valley in East Africa and the fragmented Loess Plateau ... but all these are masterpieces of nature and traces left by years, which last forever and are unforgettable.
The traces left by everything in the world, deep or shallow, bright or dark, clear or vague, have their own unique meanings. There are no birds in the sky, but they fly by. There is no trace of the tiger on the earth, but it runs; There are no traces of whales in the ocean, but the traces left by everything in the world always have their meaning. Let's open our eyes to find it, and look with our hearts, and we will find unique beauty.
Tracking ... the most beautiful!
Nine people will always encounter many things when they grow up, just like the footprints left by walking on the beach, only sometimes deep and sometimes shallow.
It's cold today, and it rained a little, which makes people feel very uncomfortable. When I looked up, I saw a photo on my desk. The people in the photo laughed happily, and my thoughts suddenly reached a year ago.
One day a year ago, at first light, I woke up, got out of bed and looked out of the window: the sun smiled, and the light ran out from behind the white clouds and fell to the ground, all golden. Makes me feel happier. Why are you happier? Because today is my birthday! I hurried downstairs and saw my parents cooking breakfast in the kitchen. I crept up behind them and shouted, "Mom!" "My mother immediately turned around and was obviously startled by me. My father also turned around. My mother said, "What's the matter? You just gave me a fright. " I said with anticipation: "Mom and Dad, what day is it today! "My parents thought for a while, and then my mother clapped her hands and said," Mother's Day! Are you going to surprise your mother? " I was speechless and said, "Mother's Day is still early!" " "Oh. "Mother sighed with disappointment." Then I don't know. "Say that finish also shook his head, next to the father shook his head early in the morning, my heart can't help but feel disappointed.
After breakfast, I went out for a walk and called my friends, but I didn't answer any of them, or I didn't know it was my birthday. I sulked all the way and thought, "Hum, I'm so angry that I can't remember my birthday." I went out to play again today and went home after venting my grievances.
As soon as I opened the door, I was shocked by what I saw: there was a birthday cake on the table, my friends stood around the table with presents in their hands, and my parents stood in front of the table, smiling and extending their hands to me. I don't know what to say at the moment, only that I'm warm all over, and I don't know if I'm sunburned. And that's when the photos were left.
Looking at the photos, I still feel warm all over, not as uncomfortable as before. I think this warmth is the trace left by years.
10 I miss a certain period of time most. I really don't have any worries, but I feel really at ease. No matter how much trouble I have, I just smile like a brilliant flower.
I accidentally picked up a yellowed knife, which seemed to have been rusted for a while. Inadvertently, I was immersed in it, as if I had returned to many years ago. Walk in the long river of time and trace it back.
At that time, I lived in my hometown, a village that could not be found on the map. Now, I go back to my hometown to explore the traces left by walking. Trace is a supermarket in the south of the village. In front of the supermarket, there is an old TV set with traditional Chinese opera in it. The tone of eyah is puzzling. I often listen to it, too. With my grandfather, I will buy some broken mouths, maybe knives. I am often confused. What is grandpa listening to? He can't hear, but he's really happy. I used to think that he just wanted to see his old friends who came together. I think so. I just want to see him. I think so.
Traces, fruit trees in the yard, are really sweet. I don't know what autumn is, but I know that when the fruit is ripe, it will be Qiu Lai. Three kinds of fruit trees, apricot, pear and persimmon, grow quietly when others don't know. Sometimes when I wake up, I feel that the fruit is ripe, which is what I think is the growth of the fruit. When the fruit was ripe, grandma found a long bamboo pole and poked it gently. I am busy picking it up with the basket below. Self-reliance is delicious.
Go ahead. The trace is the wheat field in Houcun, which seems to be golden forever. When the wind blows, it will set off bursts of wheat waves, making the sound of wheat ears colliding, mixed with a little joy. I like to sit in a cool place and get in touch with the taste of wheat, which is a strange and interesting taste. Seeing the change of each wheat plant, I am delighted with some discoveries. I am eager to see that wheat can talk to me as naturally as on TV.
In my thin years, there was nothing important in my life, but I spent it happily, leaving many ordinary traces. Looking at it now, it is still pleasant, but the taste is long.
I walked by and left a mark.
The first trace of the excellent composition 1 1 is on my chin. If you don't look carefully, you'll never see it. And I, every time I look in the mirror, I can see the "crescent moon" and think about its origin. ...
In the fourth grade of primary school, I participated in a training class called "Cambridge Children's English". After class, I skipped downstairs. When I arrived at the school gate, I found my book in my desk and hurried back to get it. In this hurry, I didn't balance well when I went upstairs, and I fell down. My chin hit the protruding part of the stairs, and a red "crescent moon" was born. My parents took me to the hospital as soon as they saw it. I don't remember how many stitches I had. Anyway, JVG doesn't have so many stitches in his head. The doctor praised me straight, saying that I had never met a brave child like me, and I didn't shed a tear. Because of the "crescent moon", my expression was not very vivid for several weeks. "Crescent Moon" told me not to be reckless and "praised" me for being brave.
I have a scar on my left hand that looks like a Nike trademark. In that art class, I have been sitting on the floor, carefully carving my "villain". I don't remember how long I was busy. In short, the more you look at your work, the more you like it, and you play with it repeatedly in your hand. Suddenly, my hand tingled. I saw a piece of meat missing, and it was probably hooked by a wooden thorn. When it scabs and falls off, it forms the "Nike trademark". Although it was a painful experience, it made me fall in love with handcraft.
There are several cocoons on my hand, which have witnessed my ten-year piano career. I began to learn piano at the age of six. For it, I was beaten many times by my father and wanted to give up. But now I'm glad I persisted. They appeared because of my persistence and hard work.
Years have left traces, and these traces have witnessed my growth.
There are no traces of birds in the sky, but I have flown.
-Inscription
Staring at the sky, feeling the rush of time, some melancholy, some sadness. How can we keep the lost youth? So, I embarked on a journey of searching.
Walking through the grass, I saw the grass under my feet. When I lamented the sadness of its death, the yellow grass told me that it also had traces of too green. "Falling red is not heartless, but turning into spring mud is more protective of flowers." It's still tracking.
When I came to the stream, the water was clear and smooth pebbles lay quietly at the bottom of the river. When I lamented the silence of its life, the sound of the stream hitting the pebbles told me that it had also visited the famous Chuanhai and struggled in the stormy waves. Aren't those spots on its surface the best proof?
Walking through a forest, I saw a small snail. When I lament its fragile life, the long water trail behind it tells me that it also has traces of efforts, no matter how weak it is, the front is always the other side it expects.
It turns out that everything can be traced.
Where are my, my own traces?
Grass told me that the happy childhood that day was not the trace of your youth.
Pebble told me that wiping your tears is not a sign of your strength.
Snail told me, isn't that high score paper the trace of your efforts?
Yes, that's my own mark!
The passage of time can't bury my own traces. When I saw the sun, I knew I smiled. When I saw the rain, I knew I was crying. Looking at myself, I know I've grown up. Joy and laughter, sadness and tears are all traces of my own growth.
When it was warm and cold, the wind in early spring blew off a large area of yellow leaves. These southern trees survived last year's severe cold, stubbornly blocking the footsteps of winter for people, but they couldn't reach the budding leaves. As soon as this warm and humid east wind blows, they will return to zero and turn to dust. Isn't life like this? Like a green leaf swaying in the wind, it is endless from germination and growth to the final zero adjustment. Isn't this the trace of life?
Every second, a person dies, a new life is born, the next second, the next second, and so on. Life is either heavier than Mount Tai or lighter than a feather. Every life is struggling for survival, and no one in the world wants to be a feather; Every second, the traces of life have been covered with snow and ice, and many people draw water with a sieve. Life, whether light or heavy, has a final destination, just like fallen leaves always return to their roots. This is the trace of life.
There are only two kinds of people recorded in history, one is immortal and the other is immortal. History has forgotten countless ordinary people. When you can only be an ordinary person in your life, you may not want to roar at the sky in the cold rain! Why? Why? Why can I only be unknown? You may be negative and degenerate, give up on yourself and accomplish nothing. However, time will not stop because of growling, unwillingness and degeneration. Time will not stop because of who, life will continue, and the wheel of history will roll forward forever.
Mr Einstein said: success = hard work+correct method+less empty talk. If you spend your self-pity time studying; Learn to sigh that life is lighter than a feather, so how can life beat you? Even if you are just an ordinary person, but you have worked hard, struggled and made contributions to the world, then you will definitely leave a trace that may not be gorgeous but still beautiful for the world. Just like that fallen leaf, when it has completed its mission and ushered in the growth of new leaves with its passing, who will deny that it has left a touching trace of life on the earth?
14' s desk has traces of being with us for three years, scratches of boredom when we first entered the campus, traces of cheating without reviewing exams, and traces of carelessness in writing papers. However, the last time I want to leave a mark on it is when I leave. Holding a piece of paper on the desk, writing a graduation message, every pen is heavily recorded on the desk.
I am reluctant to give up every drop of my graduation speech. I don't want to give up those accompanying teachers and friends, the exuberance of youth, and the memories of staying in that small place. That sum, when it fell, was heavy and thoughtful, and it was rejected, but it was helpless. We can never refuse the arrival of time, just as we can never stop the pace of graduation.
After the noisy separation, everything is calm again. The glory of the setting sun is sprinkled on the stained desk, the plants in the classroom are still green, and the chalk is lying quietly in the box. They are all waiting quietly, just like those teenagers in blue and white school uniforms will return to their original positions tomorrow, and their reading will still ring at a fixed time every day. However, the graduation message posted on the blackboard behind tells the fact that those teenagers will never come back, and tells the truth that they are about to leave for a distant place after graduation.
Three years later, a batch of teenagers came, the graduation message on the blackboard was torn off, and then it was replaced with a new one. So go on indefinitely. Only the desk in that classroom still has traces of their coming.