Flowers Blooming in the Deep Memory _ Five Selected Compositions

Her figure was left in a faint pink fragrance, and blood was thicker than water. We are held together by the kite of fate, and walk hand in hand in this bright July. Now I'll collect and arrange excellent compositions for you. If you like this article, you can refer to it. Welcome to continue to pay attention to our follow-up updates.

Write in memory (1)

There is a kind of flower that will never fade, because it blooms in your heart.

? Notes before the text of a book or after the title of an article.

"Come, come and see! Oh, hurry up! " Breathing heavily, I climbed to the top of the mountain before complaining, so I held my breath. Large tracts of dandelions are in full bloom in the sun, and a kind of earthly beauty spreads in my heart. We sat down, and no one spoke, as if afraid to disturb this fairyland. Sister Shinko brushed the pompoms out of my hair and looked at me with a smile. At that moment, I had an idea: Sister Angel might be a fairy.

That smile is a little transparent and a little far away. Then, I opened my eyes and sighed, and it was another dream. But that smile is so real, is it really a dream? I sat up and turned out of bed. A bunch of dandelions is inserted in my pen container. "Sister Xinzi-"I murmured, gently pulling out a dandelion.

Noko was my childhood friend. She is three years older than me and much more sensible than me, so my grandparents assured me to play with her and let me call her sister. I often find some scars on her. She just laughed and said that she accidentally scratched it at work. Actually, I know it was her stepmother. I don't know why, I cried when I saw those injuries, as if I were hitting me. Sister Angel just lowered her eyelids and said nothing.

One day, she mysteriously told me that she had found a good place, so I urged her to take me there and finally climbed to the top of the mountain. What I saw was dandelions that appeared in my dreams countless times. Sister Zhenzi smiled at me and said, "It's really beautiful." I gave a gentle "grace" and said that we should play more. As a result, it rained and we almost got lost. When I got home, grandma said sadly, "Are you exhausted?" I didn't answer. My heart has already flown to the cry of sister Shinko next door. Her stepmother was hitting her, and I clenched my fist.

But in the later days, we often went there to see dandelions. Sister Zhenzi said, "Do you know what the flower language of dandelion is?" I shook my head, and she looked into the distance with a complicated expression that children should not have, either sad or firm: "Dandelion's flower language is forgotten love." I looked at her and said, I don't understand. The loss in her eyes passed away and was replaced by a full face of laughter. She said, "Come on, let's find a bottle, write everything we want to say on it, and then bury it here, OK?" I nodded, thought about it, and wrote on it: "I like dandelion and sister Angel." I remember at that time, I finally learned the word dandelion.

Later, my parents took me to the city. When I came back with a beautiful little gift for my sister Angel, my grandfather told me that my sister Angel had gone to visit relatives. I bowed my head in dismay, but more than a month passed, and I didn't see my sister Angel come back. I couldn't help but stop her stepmother: "When will Sister Angel come back?" "Come back? Hum! It's not bad that a smelly girl has been raised for so many years. " Her stepmother looked at me sarcastically. "You-""Hum, I sent her away." Then he bypassed me and walked back to the yard, leaving me standing there, thinking about the sentence "off."

I dug out the bottle buried by her own hands, took a deep breath and took out a note, which seemed to smell like Shinko's sister and said, "I don't want to be forgotten." After many years, I finally understood the meaning of that sentence and her eyes.

Sister Shinko, no matter what others do, I will never forget you. You are my favorite dandelion and a flower in my heart!

Zhucheng Fan Hua Middle School Grade Three: Chang Yan

Teacher's comment: Teacher Shi

Writing with Memory as the Theme (2)

Flowers blooming in the depths of memory

Shen, Class 607, Nanxun Primary School, Huzhou City, Zhejiang Province.

Have you ever seen the smile of sunflower? The water is Ying Ying, the lakes and mountains are green, and the sunflower in the distance is receiving the sunshine without looking back. You, me, can you still remember this sunflower in your memory?

? Notes before the text of a book or after the title of an article.

Wipe the sky and laugh; Baiyun, smiled; Warm sunshine, a slight smile; I watched sunflowers with you, but I cried?

In that sunflower season, we became best friends. You tell me that your name is Xiao Lin, and I tell you that my name is Xiao Shi. Simple conversations come from the heart. You like sunflowers very much. There are several sunflowers in the back of the kindergarten. You take me to see them every day, but I don't like the dazzling bright yellow, just like my eyes can't stand the light. I can't resist your warm invitation. I always like to hear you say the words you picked from books to describe sunflowers: courage, faith, hope and light. We didn't know how to do this when we were young, but whether we understood it or not, I would clap and smile and praise you for your eloquence.

Since then, you have become a radiant sunflower. I am a girl who loves to cry. There will always be a few "golden beans" with red eyes. At this time, you will draw me a sunflower and smile like it. Your eyes are slightly narrowed, your mouth is curved, and your tone is slightly childish, just like a sunflower elf. You take some melon seeds out of your pocket and say, "Linlin will take you to plant sunflowers!" " "I am also happy to see how you dig, sow and bury, waiting for the seeds to germinate. You are like a big sister, comforting me and smiling at me.

A week later, you graduated, which means you went to Huzhou.

I said goodbye to you before the sunflower. You said you would take good care of our sunflowers, and I promised.

Later, I learned that the flower language of sunflower is eternal.

For eternity, I run to see if it sprouts every day, but I never wait until that day. Now that I think about it, how do fried melon seeds germinate?

One day in Shanghai, I accidentally saw another sunflower field, which was spectacular. The warm sunshine shines on people, and the sunflower is still moving towards the source of faith? The sun. One plant is taller than the other, and the children are playing on the other side of the morning sun. Perhaps, the sunflower will never change its direction, for the people behind it, let them get happiness and carefree.

My eyes are inexplicably soaked, and it seems that it is you in front of me, Xiao Lin. You laughed, but I bowed my head.

Eternity has different forms. Sometimes, like water, you can't touch this wonderful agility; Sometimes it's like a gem, indestructible. I am not a good girl forever, and you are not a strong sister forever, but I know that sunflower has witnessed our eternal friendship!

Spring is coming again, and a hundred flowers are blooming. I'm still waiting for the sunflower in summer. Our seeds can't germinate, but you have become a flower in my memory, illuminating my sky and flooding into my memory.

The distant wind blows, blowing through my ears and into my heart. You, Xiao Lin, I, Xiao Shi, let's watch the eternal sunflower smile together.

? postscript

Sixth grade of Nanxun Experimental Primary School, Nanxun District, Huzhou City, Zhejiang Province: Shen

Writing with Memory as the Theme (3)

Everyone has a flower in his heart, which records the ups and downs of everyone's life.

I remember that at noon in the fourth grade, Mr. Jiang, the class teacher, divided meals in the classroom. When I was taking the rice, I also took a copy for Xiao Li. Unexpectedly, my hand slipped and I knocked Xiao Li's share over. At this time, I found that Mr. Jiang cast a dignified glance at me, then took me aside and gently said to me, "It's a good thing that you helped Xiao Li cook, but you are so small and thin, and you have two boxes of lunch." What should we do now? Either you share a bowl of rice, or you give her your rice, which is your choice. "I looked down, my face became red and white, and I was afraid to look at my classmates again. As I knocked over the rice, I should bear the responsibility, so I decided to give it to Xiao Li. I cleaned up the food, sat in my seat and let my stomach sing "Empty City Plan", smelling the delicious rice, and my heart really felt bad.

Soon, teacher Jiang's footsteps are getting closer and closer to us. At that time, I was very excited and looking forward to the arrival of delicious food. Unexpectedly, Mr. Jiang put his bowl of noodles on my desk, and then bent down and said to me seriously, "Well, don't be sad, eat quickly, it won't taste good if it's cold." A warm current welled up in my heart, and tears of disappointment swirled in my eyes. I cried while eating noodles.

I will never forget the sour and sweet taste. Sour taste is injustice, sweet taste is touching.

Although the sun flower in my heart is not outstanding and unknown, it has tenacious vitality, watching the sun optimistically and slowly blooming its beauty.

Yang Wenting, Grade 6, Shanghai No.5 Middle School

Writing with Memory as the Theme (4)

Many years later, maybe I will still think of that plum blossom, that bright smiling face; At the same time, we will never forget the humble but precious plum blossom spirit!

? Notes before the text of a book or after the title of an article.

I'm not used to winter in Shanghai. It's cold and humid, which makes people feel wet. However, it was on such an unpleasant winter day, a bright but not warm morning, that I saw a plum blossom standing proudly on campus.

Facing the sunshine, it is its smiling face; Through the cold wind, it is its stubborn hand.

I silently watched "Cold Ling Open Alone", and my admiration came to me. I forgot how long it was, and suddenly I was awakened from behind by a person, intoxicated with infinite reverie.

"Classmate, you see this plum blossom for a long time. Do you like it very much? "

I turned around in a hurry, and my vigilant eyes met a pair of well-meaning bright eyes.

"Me? Me? " At ordinary times, I suddenly became prevaricated, and my face "brushed" to the plum blossom beside me.

"Are you also attracted by its lofty character?" Boys see nothing green, as if we had known each other before. "If so, it would be like-minded! Be a friend, my name is Xiaohua, and you? "

Xiaohua? Another name for Dot!

"Xiaohua, it's time for class, or you'll be late if you don't come back!" "coming!" Xiaohua turned around and smiled at me. "You are quick to go back to class. Come and see me sometime! Remember that I am preparing for Class Three! "

The breeze in Xu Lai brought a plum blossom fragrance.

So, on a dull morning, I met Xiaohua: a boy with a bright smile and a plum blossom-like temperament. And I, after that morning, somehow began to like the winter in Shanghai. Although there is no bleak and unrestrained in the north, it has a unique charm of Jiangnan: for example, light plum blossoms, such as small flowers that make people feel kind.

I went to Class 3 in the same grade. I went to find Xiaohua.

I remember one winter morning in junior high school, I accidentally asked him why he was called "Xiaohua". At that time, he paused, then put away the smile on his face, looked at me more hesitantly and said, "Do you have to explain?" "Is it difficult to explain?" I have some doubts about getting an unexpected answer. "No," he lowered his head slightly, looked up after a moment of meditation, and his eyes showed the firmness of the past. "Well, I'll tell you the reason in two years, okay?"

Today, two years later, Xiaohua and I have become friends who talk about everything. The study time in grade three is much shorter, but it will not affect our friendship at all. We will still take time to chat together, talk about plum blossoms and talk about life.

One recent morning, Xiaohua suddenly said solemnly that he would tell me a secret. I laughed, man. What are you selling? Just say it! Then, there was a long silence, and only two people could be heard breathing. Then, Xiaohua took a deep breath and began to tell this secret that he kept secret and never told anyone:

In fact, the name of Xiaohua not only contains affection, but also is a symbol.

Xiaohua likes plum blossom because his mother likes plum blossom, and Xiaohua's mother likes plum blossom because Xiaohua's father is a gardener, a gardener who insists on his own ideals and is not afraid of difficulties.

Xiaohua was born in the north where the economy is not very developed. After his family came to Shanghai, they made a living on the meager salary of their father planting quilts in the urban area.

Xiaohua's father is an ambitious man. He believes that efforts will be seen by others, and one day he will plant miracles. He doesn't complain about being born in poverty and living a hard life. He always creates his own opportunities: from apprentice to gardener, from north to south. Xiaohua's father works diligently and steadily, not only to achieve his life goals, but also to lead Xiaohua, who was looked down upon from childhood, out of inferiority and grow better in the new environment.

After Xiaohua finished speaking, her eyes were red, but she was extremely firm.

I patted him on the shoulder: "Xiaohua" should be an indomitable plum blossom-dare to face setbacks and accept all challenges! In the winter of life, you will exude your own fragrance from the inside out and show your unique beauty. "

He raised a beautiful radian at the corner of his mouth and nodded his head.

"For the dream of plum blossom, for myself, for my parents and for the glory of tomorrow, I want to be strong! Come on! "

Xiaohua knew the cruelty of reality prematurely, so she gained rare wisdom of her peers. I want to tell him:

Xiaohua, although you are from humble origins, you have precious plum blossom spirit. With it, what is there to be afraid of in life?

Oh! Xiaohua, so you are the proud and tenacious plum blossom!

Zhang Yanting, Senior 3, Jianping Experimental Middle School.

Writing with Memory as the Theme (5)

In my deep memory, there is a beautiful scene. When I think of him, it gives me some comfort? Grandma's dilapidated mud tile house, occasionally a few sparrows and pigeons rest on the roof, next to them, a rusty chimney always emits wisps of pale white smoke at noon and at night. Like an elegant fairy, it flies gently into the sky and slowly disappears.

This beautiful scene seems to have taken root in my mind, faint but stubborn. The smoke from grandma's kitchen is so quiet and peaceful that I am in a foreign land, but I never forget it.

Every time I go home, grandma will stand on tiptoe wrapped in a blue scarf and look at the end of the road at the door, but it seems so far away and so long?

Last Sunday, when I got to my door, I saw my grandmother limping here with a pile of firewood picked up from the river on her back. She was hunched over, still wearing the blue scarf and clutching the firewood rope with both hands. Grandma said with surprise when she saw me, "You came back so soon. You didn't come back when I went to get you a quilt to dry. Come on, come inside. It's cold outside. I'll cook quickly. I didn't have a good breakfast at school, did I? Oh, look, where is the coat I made for you? "

Grandma said, carrying firewood into the house, and I looked at the chimney outside. After a while, pale white smoke came out slowly. I walked into the house and stood outside the burning house, watching my grandmother pick up firewood with a veteran like bark, kneeling on the ground to chop wood, break it up and send it to the stove. Looking up, grandma's eyes were filled with a few drops of turbid tears, and her eyes were slightly yellow. I think this is because I was smoked by fireworks for a long time. Grandma's white hair is mixed with some firewood scraps. Although grandma is usually neat and loves cleanliness, she completely ignores this moment?

The cold weather, the faint smoke on the roof floating into the sky, mixed with the holy white clouds and the vast blue sky, warmed my body and mind, unforgettable.

"You go and tell your mother not to let him cook tomorrow night. Your family will come here for dinner, and we will take care of jiaozi. " "Take these peppers with you when you leave. Your parents love them. " "Take the exam again, don't stay up late to study!" "Remember to put on the coat I made for you when you go back. It's too warm. Look how cold it is now. If you have a cold, you will not delay your study! " "Go back and tell your mother not to let him take the quilt and let your grandfather send it." ?

Just open the calendar when you have nothing to do? I see a corner rolled up every ten pages? I see, grandma has made up her mind. When can I go home and look forward to that day day and night?

That beautiful scenery, like a sacred flower, blooms in my memory? The smoke from the kitchen is almost transparent and rises continuously and leisurely in the cold winter.

In caring, loving and caring, he opened a sacred flower; Between wandering and pacing, its fragrance permeates between me and seeps into my heart; Between hope and kindness, the seeds of flowers are planted in my heart, lasting forever and never dying.

Feng Qingkang, Grade Three, Boxing Experimental Middle School, Binzhou City, Shandong Province