A passage I want to write to my father on Father's Day

Thinking about writing: a high sense of meaning is the center and intention of establishment. It is necessary to ensure that the feelings and thoughts of the article are correct, in line with the nature and laws of objective things, in line with China's basic political principles, in line with people's basic moral requirements, and can give people positive inspiration.

Text:

I have been afraid of my father since I was a child. At that time, I was very young, I didn't know how high the sky was, and I often watched white clouds. I don't know how big the land is, but there will be people over there. My father pointed to the night sky and said, there is a heavenly palace in the sky, where cowherd and weaver work and weave, and clouds hang in the morning and evening. He took me to the high slope behind the village and pointed to the continuous surroundings, saying that there were mountains outside the mountains and people outside.

I'm confused. There are more ideas in my dream. I have been afraid of my father since I was a child. At that time, I was very young, the sky was full of magic, the earth was really attractive, and I dreamed of growing wings, tumbling and driving auspicious clouds. Father, with a serious face, took out some books and said there was gold in them. I stupidly opened it and found that the square characters were as dense as a forest, facing each other across the street and not knowing each other. I hope they treat me like a stranger, too.

Holding my father's finger, I approached the dense forest. Time never stops, which cultivates my gentleness. Lightning is no longer terrible. I dare to glare at the dark clouds and walk in a secluded place. I'm an adult, too. After walking in the Woods for some days, I met a creator-exorcism in ignorance and evil spirits in practice. Fire is steel, be flexible.

Father looked at the heat, so he had to beat his chest and beat his feet, adding oil and vinegar to convince people. On the morning of Xinfeng, where the wings are gradually growing, my father released the young falcon, but the invisible trace has been weak for decades. Stumbling in the wind and rain, struggling in the rough. The key word, take a look when you hesitate. So I boldly went forward, so I bravely rushed. As if leaning against the green hills, the thrust feels like a thousand pounds. Confucius said: The deceased is like a husband.

Suddenly, I became a father, too. On the way of my youngest son's running, my father chenchen and I were in a bad mood. Always use his pale experience to guide his son to be a man.

Every time I look back, my father, who is getting old day by day, really looks like a mountain with his back bowed. Snow is like silver on the top of a mountain. His blood will dry up and his blood vessels will be half full. He is always afraid that one day it will solidify and tears will wash his heart again and again! Time is heartless. The father takes the belt, the son sends the son away, and the father and son walk around, which is the foundation of human reproduction.

Blood ties, handed down from generation to generation, eternal, the only constant is the spirit!