600 words of fatherly love composition should be written by yourself.

I haven't seen an open-air movie for years.

I remember when I was a child, my home was in the countryside. At that time, things like TV and DVD players were not seen in the countryside, let alone enjoyed. Therefore, if there is a movie in any village, people in the surrounding villages will rush to see it. In the open field, it was dark and spectacular.

At that time, my father was still young and a movie fan. Every time such a good thing happens, he rides his old "permanent" bike, which can't be permanent, and takes me to chase after fun in the dark.

At the cinema, my father pulled his car beside him and stood far behind the crowd. At that time, I was not as tall as the bench where others sat. My father always puts me around his neck and puts me down until the end of the movie. I remember once, watching the legend of the white snake, I fell asleep riding on my father's neck and peed all over my father. Father patted my ass and smiled and said, "Hi! Hi! Wake up, it's all' Jinshan'! "

Many years have passed, and I have grown taller than my father. In crowded places, I no longer need to rely on my father's shoulders to support me. Going home during the Spring Festival, one day I heard that someone in the neighboring village was getting married, and there was a movie in the evening. Several childhood playmates invited me to join in the fun. I said to my father, "Dad, I went to the movies!" " "

Father said, "Go, what are you talking about? You are not a child! " "

"You're not going?"

"Go by yourself, I'm over 60 years old, so why bother!"

Not many people come to the cinema. Let's find a place to stand. After a while, a father and son came over. The child kept crying out of sight, just like his father did many years ago. Father said, "there is no one here who can match your position!" " "Holding the child around his neck, the child giggled at the height.

I don't know what happened, but my eyes suddenly got wet. For so many years, I have been looking for an action that can accurately represent my father's love. Isn't this the result I'm looking for?

I think of a lot of past events, and I am no longer in the mood to watch movies. Go home alone.

Knock on the door. My parents fell asleep and my father opened the door wearing a coat. "Why did you come back so early? The movie is not good? "

Looking at my father's gray hair and his obviously hunched back under the dim light, I was in tears and didn't answer anything. I just put the coat that my father put on me when I went out just now on his thin body.

Yes, the father has been building a cornerstone for his son all his life, pushing his son to an ideal height, pushing him, and unconsciously getting tired and old.

I know that in this life, no matter how high my life coordinates are, I can't reach the height of fatherly love. Although I can't see, I have a ruler in my heart!

Liu Yong's Hands-Free Dad also mentioned many articles about fatherly love.

The full text is as follows:

There used to be an interesting story in the newspaper. The owner of a kindergarten in Taipei collected more than 100 photos of children in order to get to know their parents, and found that most of the fathers in the photos had no hands.

"In the eyes of children, the father is a person who lacks contact." The director said so.

Is it true that fathers don't have much contact with children?

I remember an old professor said:

"A man is like a male bird. When the female bird hatches in the nest, the male bird's responsibility is to go out and find something to eat. So men can't stay at home. His occupation is to go out to work. Men love children too much, which will affect their career development. "

His words influenced me for a long time, but after seeing a wonderful picture, my concept changed.

The picture shows the frozen South Pole. Thousands of penguins stand upright in the same direction, like hundreds of "blackhead tombstones", standing in the snow.

Curiously reading the instructions, I found that a penguin was hatching eggs. They put eggs on their feet and wrapped them in their bellies and thick feathers. Those eggs that can maintain MINUS 37 degrees in the snow and ice at MINUS 40 degrees. What's even more surprising is that these pro-penguins are all penguin fathers.

In the more than 50 days when the penguin father hatches eggs, the penguin mother will go far away to find something. "She" ran for more than two months, and the penguin father didn't eat anything, so he stood upright. Because if they leave for a few minutes, the eggs will freeze. When the little penguin hatches, before his mother comes back, his father will spit out his gastric juice and feed it to his baby.

In a biological film, I saw a wading bird commonly known as "Jesus bird". The job of taking care of the young birds is entirely undertaken by the males. In the film, two birds are playing in the water, and the male bird is watching. Suddenly, he saw the crocodile swimming over. The male bird immediately rushed to the bird's side, spread his wings, squatted down, put the birds under his arm and flew away.

I think even birds know that couples will adjust their roles according to the situation. Why in human society, many people think that only mothers can take care of children. You know, men not only love their children very much, but also deprive their children and their fathers of the opportunity to fall in love when their wives don't let their husbands "do it".

I remember a short message saying:

"It's so dark and windy. Dad went fishing. Why doesn't he go home? "

I remember a poem by Lin:

"I work hard, day and night. Hungry, afraid to buy food. I walked down the street and saw other people's children and surrounded them with noodles. Look after other people's children and run into the bakery to buy bread; Looking at other people's children, I squeezed into the candy store to buy candy ... I thought as I walked: I should give my children some pocket money after I go home and secretly put it in their schoolbags. " ("Think while walking")

I remember the anti-Japanese movie "The Roar of China" said:

"For our children and grandchildren, we will continue to fight."

On my way home from the office, I watched the men coming in and out on the road. After work, many people pull their heads forward. I thought, who took their heads away?

Is it home? Is it a child?

Every time I see bodies all over the battlefield on TV news, most of them are men's. I wonder how many of them will be the father of the child. How many of their children will really realize that their father killed for his family and was killed for his family?

Today, I want to say to every child who has "never painted for his father":

Don't think that your father doesn't love you because he doesn't hug you. Their hands may be working with black engine oil, they may be digging dirty sewers, their hands may be sore on the computer keyboard, and their hands may be eager to make more money-here you are.

Their hands don't even know how to cherish themselves!

So, don't wait for him to reach out and hug you, you should reach out and hug him first and say:

"Dad, I love you!"

In addition, I remember that there seems to be an article "Father's Love Like a Mountain" in Selected Works of Contemporary China. But this is better.

I haven't seen my father for more than two years. What I can't forget most is his back. That winter, my grandmother died, and my father's errand was also unloaded. This is a day when it never rains but it pours. I arrived in Xuzhou from Beijing, and I plan to go home with my father. When I went to Xuzhou to see my father, I saw something in the yard and thought of my grandmother. I can't help crying. Father said, "Well, don't be sad, but God never shuts one door but he opens another!" " "I went home to sell pawns, and my father lost money; Borrowing money for the funeral again. The situation at home these days is very bleak, partly for the funeral and partly for my father's leisure. After the funeral, my father will go to Nanjing to work, and I will go back to Beijing to study. Let's go together. In Nanjing, a friend made an appointment to go sightseeing and stayed for one day. The next morning, I will cross the river to Pukou and get on the bus in the afternoon. Because my father is busy, he has decided not to send it, and found a familiar waiter in the hotel to accompany him. He repeatedly told the waiter to be very careful. But he finally worried that the waiter posted it inappropriately; I hesitated for a moment. In fact, I was twenty years old that year, and I have traveled to and from Beijing two or three times, so it doesn't matter. He hesitated for a while and finally decided to take me personally. I advised him not to go two or three times; He just said, "Never mind, they can't walk well! "We crossed the river and entered the station. I bought a ticket and he was busy looking after the luggage. There is too much luggage, so you have to tip the porter to go. He is busy bargaining with them again. I was too smart at that time, and I always thought he was not nice to speak, so I had to interrupt myself. But he finally negotiated the price; Walk me to the car. He chose a chair near the door for me; I spread out the purple coat he made for me and sat down. He told me to be careful on the road, to be alert at night and not to catch a cold. And let the waiter take good care of me. I laughed at his pedantry in my mind; They only know money, and believe that they have nothing! Can't people my age take care of themselves? Well, now that I think about it, I was really smart then. I said, "Dad, you go. He looked out of the car and said, "I'll buy some oranges." "You stay here and don't walk around." I think there are some vendors waiting for customers outside the fence on the platform over there. To get to the platform over there, you have to cross the railway, jump down and climb up. Father is a fat man, so it is naturally more troublesome to walk there. I was going to go, but he refused, so I had to let him go. It was not difficult to see him limping to the railway and leaning down slowly, wearing a small black hat, a big black jacket and a dark blue cotton robe. But it is not easy for him to climb the platform over there when he crosses the railway. He climbed up with both hands, and his feet shrank again; His fat body leans slightly to the left, showing signs of hard work. Then I saw his back, and my tears soon flowed down. I quickly wiped away my tears, fearing that he would see it and others would see it. When I looked out again, he had come back with the bright red orange in his arms. When crossing the railway, he first scattered oranges on the ground, climbed down slowly, then picked them up and left. When I arrived here, I hurried to help him. He and I walked to the front of the car and put oranges on my fur coat. So I dived into the dirt on my clothes and felt very relaxed. After a while, I said, "I'm leaving. Write to me there!" " "I watched him go out. He took a few steps, looked back at me and said, "Go in, there's no one inside. "When his back was mixed with people coming and going, I couldn't find it anymore, so I came in and sat down, and tears came again. In recent years, my father and I have been running around, and the situation at home is getting worse and worse. As a teenager, he went out to make a living, made his own living and did many great things. I didn't know the original environment was so depressing! He was so sad that he couldn't control himself. If you are depressed in the middle, it is natural to send it out; Family trifles often touch his anger. He treats me differently. But I haven't seen him for the last two years. He finally forgot my fault and only thought about me and my son. After I came to the north, he wrote me a letter, which said, "I am in good health, but my arm hurts." It's inconvenient to carry a pen, and the day when I leave is not far away. "I read here, in the glittering and translucent tears, I saw a chubby blue cotton robe and black jacket. Alas! I don't know when I can see him again! Beijing 1925 10

Silent love

Life ends with the disappearance of the body, so missing becomes a way of mourning. Among countless pieces, I picked up some pieces and pieced them together into a person.

My father has been in poor health, and I have lived in my grandmother's house since I was a child. When I was 7 years old, because of my mother's work, I returned home-a complete stranger's home. My father has a bad temper, and my mother is patient everywhere, but I have never seen a smile on his face, as if becoming a veteran of the family is worthy of the name.

He stipulates that dinner must be served before six o'clock every night. Once, my mother cooked fish and ate dinner very late. My father sat in the plush chair without saying a word. The slightly fat body drive is like a rusty kettle. Once heated, it can boil. I dare not go near it for fear that it will explode. It seems that once the gate is opened, angry words will flood in.

Therefore, every day I obey the rules and dare not break the rules. One day, because the bus was late for work, it was already half past six when I got home. I am hesitant, and I have been afraid to enter the door and wander around the house. Father dragged his sick body to open the door and found me at the door. I turned and ran away. Before I could, I felt my shoulder loose and my schoolbag had been taken off. Does he want to hit me? I didn't dare to think much. My father just patted me on the head and took me in. "Are you hungry?" Seeing me nod, I kept putting food into the bowl.

With the aggravation of my studies, I go home later and later, and that rule gradually exists in name only, but my father will still sit in the plush chair and shake his kettle-like body back and forth, waiting for my mother and I to come back for dinner.

Day after day, year after year, finally one day the figure in the plush chair disappeared ... Only my mother would have dinner before six o'clock and then wait for me to go home.

Whenever night falls, I seem to hear his roar in my ear again, and poker sees a grumpy and stubborn father smiling. I know that there is a saying that he has been deeply buried in his heart and has never been able to say it from his closed mouth: "I love you, son!" " "

Feel the father's love

The last class of frustration, accompanied by the teacher's voice and thunder in the air, went on in frustration. Looking out the window, the heavy rain is ruthlessly destroying the earth, and the students are whispering in their ears-they are afraid of heavy rain!

As time goes by, I am on pins and needles. Looking at the rows of black cars at the school gate, I am very anxious. How I wish he wouldn't come!

I can't remember clearly what the teacher said on the platform. In fact, I don't listen at all. I looked out of the window again. Fortunately, he didn't come. I breathed a long sigh of relief. ...

When the fatal bell rang, I rushed out of the classroom with my schoolbag on my back and plunged into the endless rain curtain. Rain poured on me quickly from overhead, but I'm glad he didn't come. Looking back at the school gate, the students got into the warm and spacious car one by one, and the sound of motor gradually drowned my thoughts ... "Son!" A thunder woke me up from my dream. This familiar voice ... no! Look inside, here he comes! He has an old umbrella in his hand, an old man's bike. The rust on the bike is as irregular as the wrinkles on his face. He has a smile on his face. Although he is very kind, I feel uncomfortable all over. "Dad is late, sorry, take an umbrella quickly, and Dad will take you home." He said slowly. Car after car passed by me, and I felt that my classmates in the car must be staring at him and his worn-out bike with disdain. My face felt burning pain ... he seemed to know something, took out a worn-out five-dollar bill from his pocket and handed it to me carefully. "I have to leave early. Go home by car. " Say that finish, get on the bus and disappear into the rain with the sound of "creaking, creaking". Where he stood, there were only many raindrops and two cigarette butts still smoking. I know he never smokes. ...

A stream of heat rushed to my heart. Some people say that handstand can prevent tears from flowing out, but my tears are out of control and I am very confused. He is my father! Poverty cannot change the affection between father and son! I flew forward to catch up with my father and hugged him tightly. Two fiery hearts melted everything. ...

I remember it was a hot afternoon and my father came to pick me up from school. I'm on the bike, because I got good grades in the exam, so I'm happy to be "alive and kicking" on the bike. Happiness is accompanied by tragedy.

Because I was sitting behind the bike, and because I was very happy, my feet kept moving, and accidentally, my right foot was "inserted" into the rear wheel. Suddenly, my father and I fell to the ground together. When my father saw that I couldn't stand up, he quickly lifted me up from the "hot" ground and told me to stand where I was. Don't move or go away until my father puts the bike away and helps me upstairs. I'm standing downstairs. Still like a statue, my feet kept shaking and tears kept surging. Passers-by saw me so miserable and came up to me and asked, "Is it okay, little friend?" "Never mind, I ... my father will ... come." Five minutes later, my father came down from upstairs and helped me upstairs step by step.

When I got home, my father ran near and went out to help me get the medicine box to treat my wound. He gently helped me lift my trouser legs. He cried, crying so sadly. Tears immediately wet his eyes, and his eyes immediately turned red. It was the first time I saw my father cry for me, and he quickly disinfected it with alcohol. In the process of disinfection, in order to avoid my pain again, my father disinfected me carefully, seriously and slowly. My dad also "whizzed" me with his mouth! After disinfection, he painted me with mercurochrome. After all the cleaning, my pain at first has been much better. Thank my father for his concern.

When I can walk, the first thing I do is to see how my father's hands are; Yes Because I know that these warm and considerate hands have done everything for me, I feel my father's love for me!

There is a standard family of three. The husband and wife live in a yard with a 4-year-old boy, and their life is calm and happy. On this day, my father was reading in the house, my mother was cooking in the kitchen, and the little boy was riding a tricycle happily in the yard.

The car kept squeaking, and of course the noise reached the house. The couple reacted differently: when the mother was busy in the kitchen, listening to the noise made by her son, she felt particularly sweet and practical; Father frowned as he turned the pages. Obviously, the noise affected him. Then, he realized that his son's car was broken and should be repaired, so he got up and got the tools and called his son to come and fix it for him.

After the tricycle was repaired, there was no sound when the boy pedaled again. Father returned home with satisfaction and peace of mind, and he could concentrate on his studies. But at this time, the mother in the kitchen felt uncomfortable, because to her, the creaking sound of her son's tricycle was like nature. She can't do anything well without the accompaniment of this voice.

The unknown gentleman said, what can you two analyze about this little thing?

Let me say first: the sound of the light bulb is music to my mother and noise to my father-maternal love is warmer and more emotional, and fatherly love is stricter and more rational.

The man pointed out that the mother didn't realize that there was something wrong with the car, and the father got up to get the tools-the father loved more responsibility.

I said that doesn't mean that maternal love is muddled love. You don't know that a mother loves to hear her son's voice, which is not just an emotional need. Subconsciously, she listened to the creaking sound suddenly far away and near, and she could grasp her son's condition in her heart: did she ride too far, fell down and stumbled? Once the voice disappeared, she was immediately alert to whether there was an accident-the sense of responsibility for maternal love was hidden in a corner that she didn't even realize.

At this time, the two people across the street looked at each other very unexpectedly, and the quarrel stopped.