Composition, one thing for my mother, 600 words.

I have been bathed in the sunshine of maternal love since I was born. In order to raise me well, she did everything a mother could do. What impressed me the most and made me doubly grateful was my mother's kind and sincere smile. I made progress, and she smiled and praised me; I made a mistake and she criticized me with a smile; When I was complacent, she smiled and threw some cold water on me; When I was decadent and depressed, she smiled and gave me some motivation ... I am a small tree, thriving under the dew of my mother's smile, and I am a small flower, blooming under the warm spring breeze of my mother's smile.

I am growing up day by day, but I don't know why my mother's kind smile is no longer rare, and it is often replaced by a stern face. Only my desk, desk lamp and countless exercises accompany me every day. "Does my mother not love me?" I thought about it over and over again, and denied it over and over again. I remember when I was a child, my mother taught me to write and recite poems, washed my clothes in the cold winter and cleaned my room in the hot summer ... One day when I was nine years old, it was raining cats and dogs outside, and it was thundering. I suddenly had a high fever. My father is not at home. My mother looked at me and out of the window. She put on my raincoat carefully and resolutely picked me up and ran to the hospital. I fell on my mother's back and clearly heard her shortness of breath. My heart is about to break. I said, "Mom, I'll go down by myself!" " "Mother replied firmly," how is that possible? How can you walk in the rain with a high fever? Cover your raincoat tightly and don't get wet. " My eyes can't help getting wet. The road was slippery on rainy days, and my mother almost fell down. After standing firm, she eagerly asked me, "Are you all right?" I said, "Nothing!" Mother breathed a sigh of relief and said with relief, "That's good, that's good. "In this way, my mother carried me to the hospital with one foot deep and one foot shallow.

When curly hair comes to your hands again and again, an inexplicable feeling will always rush from your heart to your chest. My nose is sour, but I still hold it back for fear that my classmates will see it. The bright red score on the test paper tells me everything. When my mother saw the test paper, she had a long-lost smile on her face. She smiled and said to me, "I fell down and got up by myself." This sentence has accompanied me for more than ten years. It gave me strength and promoted my progress. I sincerely thank my mother.

In the sunshine, I seem to see a gorgeous halo rising behind my mother, which is a halo that only immortals have in ancient legends. This is the most sacred and inviolable maternal light! For this light, only look up!

When I called my long-lost classmate and asked each other about each other's situation, he suddenly asked me, "What did you do that moved your mother the most?"

I was puzzled for a moment. I don't seem to remember, or even want to remember, whether my mother was moved by anything about me. I'm speechless. I am proud of my equal friendship with my mother and brag about how I please my mother. Suddenly, I felt a pang of sadness.

My mother is away on business. She often travels, leaving me at home to take care of my life for many years. My personality is full of independent things. What I want most is independent growth, spiritual independence and economic independence. I seldom miss her deeply, but when I answer her eternal question "Do you miss me" with a negative answer, she always says that I have no conscience. It's her phone again. After a few words, I suddenly asked her, "In your impression, have I done anything that particularly touched you?" She paused for a moment and said, "Of course-"Then she talked about a long time ago, which never left a trace of impression in my mind. When I was 4 years old, my mother once took me to work with my father. In the process of talking with my father, my mother made a suggestion. I don't know why I angered people at work and started yelling at my mother. Before my father could stop me, I rushed to my mother and stood in front of her. I shouted at the workers, "Don't scold my mother, don't scold her." The man froze, and suddenly his anger disappeared. He stretched out his hand to touch my head, but I pushed his hand away and stubbornly dragged my mother away ... My mother continued to tell stories, and I heard the other end of the phone choked, and tears kept pouring out. My mother said it was the most touching thing in her memory. She said that I was very cute when I was a child, unlike now.

I'm not a good boy, at least not now. I talked back to her, jokingly "hurt" her with some mean words and annoyed her with some new words she didn't understand. I seem to have been born like this, and I have long forgotten that I am cute. My mother often complains and hopes that I won't grow up, so that she won't get old and I won't be angry with her. I don't know what I did when I was a child, but I remember that I was willing to cross the road by holding my mother's hand, and I was still saying to my mother, "Let me lead you across the road." Before going to bed, I still held my mother's hand, fearing that the devil in my dream would take me away. ...

I, when I grow up, my mother is old. When I was older, I learned to talk back and argue with my mother. She always lets me down. I still remember my mother apologizing to me like a child who did something wrong after dyeing my school uniform colorful. I still remember when my mother saw her satisfactory composition, she said "Oh, my article is overdue" in that joking and sad tone. I still remember my mother crying because of my unreasonable ambivalence. I still remember that my mother was chilling for my heartless language. Although it is sunny for both of us after this little episode in life, I am really worried about my mother.

And I, what did I do? I'm not qualified to say what I did to move my mother. I didn't get any grades that really made her happy, and I didn't have the skills to show off. When she was ill, I was unable to take my mother to the doctor except to hand her a glass of water and take some medicine. I know my mother has a heavy burden on her shoulders. She wants to support me, an ignorant person who has spent a lot of money and time. I heard that she sometimes cries at night. My mother is not an absolutely strong person, but she never transfers this burden to me. But what did I do? My tears came down again. My mother said she didn't like to see me cry all the time, but I was still so disobedient.

Me, regret it? Guilt? Is it shame? Is it pain? Is it sadness? Is it sour? Is it pain? Is it heartache? Both, none. ...

Mother is not kind, she hits me; Mom is not beautiful, she is old; Mother is not wordy, but likes to listen to others; My mother's career is very ordinary, and she is still working hard ... but my mother gave me a personality that makes me proud of being strict and lenient; With her youth, I grew up; With her habit of listening, she gave me a sharp mouth that always argued with her; She used her life's hard work to get everything around me. ...

On the other end of the phone, my mother called me twice, which made me stop thinking. She asked, "Why do you ask me this? Are you going to write a composition today? Are you looking for material from me? " I smiled. I seldom write about my mother in my composition. In my mind, it's too vulgar, but my mother always says, why don't you use such a good living model? I must be very touched that you want to write such a composition praising your mother. ...

I know my mother is actually easy to satisfy. She can be moved as long as she writes a composition. As long as she cares, she can be moved. As long as you love her, you can move her. Just stand in front of her and say "don't scold my mother, don't scold her", and she will be moved ... but I never gave it to her when I grew up. ...

Mom, I wrote this article. I care about your present situation. You don't know what you are doing when you are on a business trip. I want to tell you that I love you! Mom, am I qualified to say, tell you, tell everyone-"Everything I have done has moved you and made you proud"?

Praise mother.

I got deeper and deeper. This world?

One world.

The pentaphyllum is full of poems.

mother

I am your forced mature child.

The child is wearing a faint tsing yi.

I am a handful of dirt, and you love every aspect of it.

Tonight you sit under the eaves of the country.

Wash your fingers gently.

One of the five leaves

An autumn leaf

Dream cave

Mother and son are watching you by the river thousands of miles away.

Don't tell me where life takes place.

Something pierced my river.

Tears of reproduction! !

There are many stars tonight.

ripple

Nocturne melodious

Mother's fingers are covered with the sanctity of youth.

The pentaphyllum is full of poems as heavy as autumn.

Her son stood on trembling hair.

Don't get excited about the flute blowing out of my mouth. ...

Your life touched my dream of walking with you.

Every autumn, I shoot a horse under the tree.

Every autumn

I am under the tree.

Beat a horse

1, mother in the storm

Life is like walking on a stormy road.

Mother is at the front.

Send some umbrellas to protect the children from the wind and rain to their mothers.

Mom pushed it to me again.

Ah, the child under the umbrella,

Mother outside the umbrella,

Rain is no longer rain,

It was a tear of happiness that God sent to the world.

Thank you for your hard work, Mom.

The human body can leave,

People don't leave,

Just as we will never forget our ancestors,

Forget about mother.

Mother is the quilt on her body,

Without her, she would feel cold.

Mother is the salt in the dish,

Life is tasteless without her.

Mother must have her pain.

The pain of wandering,

It often hangs on her face,

Interwoven with laughter watching children.

3. Great maternal love

Pick a bunch of the brightest roses,

With all my dear words to my mother,

Mom said I was stupid,

Roses are flowers that symbolize love.

I don't know,

It is also a flower that the child gave to his mother.

I haven't heard my mother tell jokes about my childhood for a long time.

I regret it,

Those who fall asleep before listening.

Mom said, silly boy,

A mother can never finish what she has to say to her children.

Is to sleep in the grave,

You are also my eternal concern.