Who am I? Where do I come from? Where do I go? A 400-word essay

1 Some adults tell children that they picked it up from the field. Some people may even think that a wise Creator fabricated human beings. So, where did we come from?

When I was a child, I was very curious about this question. As the tip of my smile trembled, I already understood that human beings are born from the mother's body in ten months of pregnancy. Later, I finally had a God-given opportunity for me to observe—my sister-in-law was pregnant! From two months on, my sister-in-law walked cautiously, and at three or four months, she began to vomit. During this period, you cannot take medicine when you are sick, and you can only rely on your own resistance to drive away the disease. As my sister-in-law's belly grows day by day, people are looking forward to the birth of this little guy more and more. Mom was sure it was a boy because my sister-in-law's belly looked very pointed. As expected, I couldn’t escape my mother’s fierce eyes, and I finally got a nephew!

The eldest brother was also happy from ear to ear all day long because he had a son, but who knows how much suffering his sister-in-law suffered while he was so happy! The doctor forcibly cut a large incision on my sister-in-law's belly, took the child out of her belly, and then sewed it up! Normally, even if I were pricked with a needle, I would feel very painful, let alone making an opening in my own flesh! What a hidden secret lies behind this! It is said that within a month after giving birth, you are not allowed to get out of bed, touch cold water, eat salty food, watch TV, make phone calls, do this or that. And my aunt often asked for home remedies because my sister-in-law's milk supply was not enough, which made my sister-in-law mute and had to eat Coptis chinensis - she couldn't tell her the pain.

After seeing what my sister-in-law has gone through, I no longer look forward to birthdays. Because my birthday is the day of my mother’s suffering. In fact, it is not me who should celebrate my birthday, but my mother! I want to tell people all over the world: When you celebrate your birthday, don’t forget to say a word to your mother: Happy birthday, Mom!

2 Where is happiness? Happiness is insignificant in the mountains of gravel. Where is the happiness? Happiness is small yet great in the vast sea water. Where is the happiness? Happiness lies in the rice fields filled with autumn harvest, full of harvest joy. Where is the happiness? Happiness is in the flowing stream, clear and transparent. Happiness - everywhere! Look! Where is the happiness - The footsteps of spring are approaching, and the spring rains are coming. The air is mixed with the last ray of winter chill. The rain is falling aimlessly. School is over, and my mother is waiting anxiously with an umbrella. , when she saw me, she held up an umbrella, hugged me under her shoulders, took out the hot milk from her bag, and handed it to me. The milk is hot, and the mother's heart is hot. She held it with both hands. The steaming milk made me cry quietly in my heart! Is this happiness? Summer can't wait to be in place. The sun radiates tiresome heat like a devil. There are a lot fewer people on the street. The old people under the trees are talking in groups. The small lake in the park is full of people making out and having fun. couple. I always had to do homework until midnight. Whenever it was late at night, I would always look up at the sky full of stars, the sparkling lake, and the lush grass outside the window. My mother would quietly open the door and bring a bowl of cool food. The refreshing mung bean paste came in, and while he wiped my back with a wet towel, he helped me check my homework and looked after me patiently. . . Yawning from time to time, yes, my mother is sleepy after a hard day's work. This should be happiness, right? The autumn wind blows through the treetops, and the golden maple leaves fall one after another, falling into the shimmering lake with the wind. Summer has just passed, and the cool wind of autumn makes people very comfortable, but I, who have been frail and sick since I was a child, always have a fever at this time. , cold, my mother would cook a bowl of red dates and winter melon porridge every day to relieve heat and cough, and to prevent colds. I will never forget that late autumn morning, when the strong aroma of rice porridge came from the kitchen. How many late autumn mornings were there? ah! My mother got up early and went to bed late, but she never cared about it.

Is this also happiness? Finally, the cycle of four seasons has reached the last season, the coldest and warmest season. Although the cold wind howls, it can never cool my mother's caring heart. This year's winter is colder than before, and my mother understands that winter is always cold. She realized that my hands and feet were most likely to become cold and numb, so she stayed up late to knit me a pair of gloves and a pair of cotton slippers. When I put them on, there was always an inexplicable source of warmth running through the soles of my feet. Is that love? Every morning, you can smell the fragrance of milk wafting from the kitchen. It is the milk carefully prepared by your mother. Isn't this also happiness? Where is the happiness. . . Happiness is in the mother's loving eyes, in the caring heart, in the aging wrinkles, in the words of silent prayer, under such broad shoulders, there. . . . . In love everywhere. . .