Ask for a composition about people.

1. In the early morning campus, the sunshine is pure as water.

The students' laughter is permeated with the warm gold on campus. At that time, we were still young, and every morning seemed to be the same, bright and relaxed. But for the mother and son in memory, it is different.

My son's legs are a little disabled, but he insists on walking on his own legs without crutches. It is undoubtedly difficult for him to climb the stairs. His mother, a very gentle and short woman, holds her son every day and pulls him up the stairs step by step. I only remember their backs, so slow but indifferent. I never look back at them because I think curious eyes will hurt them. At first, the students were curious and looked at them unconsciously, but they didn't show anything strange, as if there were only their mother and son, stairs and sunshine in the world.

The mother and son persisted day after day, and soon the students got used to it. That was in junior high school. I should have forgotten a long time ago. On that day, at the moment they turned the stairs, the sun stung my eyes, and their hesitation and gaze made me unforgettable.

On that day, the students were still walking briskly on the stairs, and the sun was still rising, flowing down the first step through the big window at the corner of the stairs. It's the same pair of backs-the son is hunched, his left hand is holding the handrail tightly, the mother's right shoulder is carrying her son's schoolbag that doesn't match her, and her hands are holding her son's right arm, which seems to be very tight and gently held. My son climbed a step with some difficulty in his left leg, then pulled the handrail with his left hand, supported his mother with his right arm, twisted his upper body and lifted the weight-bearing right leg to a step. Then his left hand reached up and grabbed the handrail. His mother climbed a step and looked at him sideways, but he kept his head down and tried to repeat this action over and over again. The bright morning light outlined the mother's side face, not as bright as the sun. Years have left marks on her face, but her gentle expression has never changed. I always feel that she is smiling gently, but in fact she is not smiling. That hidden smile may be well-meaning.

This is a football fan.

That night, the night was dark and windy, and the moon was high in the sky. Eyes are sparsely distributed in the dark blue sky like stars. That night, it was surprisingly quiet, but my home was very lively, because the fans' father was watching the ball at home and driving the "football part".

Father has a flat head and a dark face, but you can see that his teeth are white. Although he smirked "gnome male-"all day, he really knows football and is obsessed with it.

"Go in! Alas-"Look, my dad is watching the ball again. Just now, his face suddenly slipped from excitement and tension to expressionless and complaining-why didn't the ball score? After a while, he cheered again. Why? Goal! He immediately blushed and was ecstatic, just like a bird, as if to fly high.

According to my mother, it seems that my father didn't go to bed until three o'clock. Before going to bed, he told her how to play well and how powerful his favorite player was. Mom also said that she slept until midnight and was suddenly shouted by her father, "Good shot!" Wake up. He even sings his beloved football when he sleeps!

Not bad this time. In the days of the "World Cup", in order not to be bored before watching the ball, he specially cooked a pot of beef and tomato soup. The ball game started, and he sat in front of the TV to watch it on time. An hour passed, and he suddenly smelled a burning smell. Is the beef soup burnt? He thinks so. He was about to get up when he saw a player "kill" the ball into the penalty area. Dad no longer cares about his beef soup, and always looks at the players on TV with his eyes. Wait until he finishes watching the game, then go to see his beef soup. Oh, is that still a dish? -the soup has been burned to the end, and there is a layer of crispy rice under the pot. There are only black beef and tomatoes in the pot.

There are many other stupid things he did for football: for example, he forgot to buy rice, added monosodium glutamate to sugar porridge, and forgot to clear the mahjong table before the leader came to see him ... there was nothing he could do. Football, dad's medicine; Football is a good way to stop dad from hitting you; Football is an indispensable part of dad's life. ...

My mother is an ordinary middle-aged woman, which reminds me of Jia Pingwa's words: "Ordinary to the extreme, great to the extreme." I finally understood the true meaning of gratitude in my mother.

I went to cram English from 5 pm to 7 pm that day, but as the exam approached, the teacher decided to postpone 1 hour. Because I quarreled with my mother when I went out, I didn't call her back, so I sat quietly for an hour.

When I came home, I took out my mobile phone, and my eyes were blurred, as if there were salty liquids flowing down. ...

At 7: 30, a missed call.

At 7: 33, a missed call.

At 7: 35, a missed call.

7: 40 (SMS): Where are you, son? Hurry home.

At 7: 43, a missed call.

At 7: 45, a missed call.

7: 48 (SMS), Annie, go home quickly! I shouldn't say anything about you today Can you hurry home for dinner?

At 7: 50, a missed call.

At 7: 52, a missed call.

At 7: 53, a missed call.

7: 55 (SMS): Annie, where are you! I called grandma's house and grandma said you weren't there. Come back early! I'm worried about you.

At 7: 58, a missed call.

At 8: 05, a missed call.

Oh, my God! In just 30 minutes, my mother made 10 phone calls and sent three short messages. I really don't know how I sat in my seat as if nothing had happened 1 hour.

My eyes suddenly flashed a picture of my mother's rough hand pressing keys on the mobile phone. The salty liquid flowed down, and I didn't want to admit that it was tears, and I didn't want to wipe it with my hands. I rushed back to my mother with tears in my eyes: "Mom, I'll be right back, I'll be right back ..."

My mother is intoxicated with oil, salt, sauce and vinegar for me, I am intoxicated with trifles, and I … and I should repay her with a grateful heart, shouldn't I?

The physics teacher in junior high school once said, "Action is better than action." So from now on, whenever and wherever, I will call my mother back.

Love is not melodramatic. I think we should learn to love and be grateful when we are loved. ...

I cherish the sunshine and hide the warmth in my palm, waiting to open my heart and give those lonely children a bright smile.

-Inscription.

"Crack, crack", lively firecrackers come and go, loud voices echo each other, venting the joy in people's hearts. Brilliant fireworks bloom in the sky, stars like black silk fall in the sky, and diamonds shine in the dark. The air is filled with a thick atmosphere of joy, interwoven with the colors of strings on TV. I was so excited that I kept jumping up and down like a bird. It was not until soft music came out on TV that I sat back in my chair quietly, because a group of children of migrant workers appeared on the screen, wearing different colors. Some are white, but they all have the same serious expression on their faces. There are children's voices on TV. They are reciting the poems in their hearts word by word-their hearts. Looking at their innocent eyes, I seem to be tasting a cup of bitter tea.

"Our campus is too small for a pommel horse."

It seems that in an instant, my school appeared in my mind. Every morning, we are greeted by the magnificent school gate. There is a huge playground beside the lush path. Volleyball court and basketball court are all available for us to exercise. The magnificent teaching building is hidden in the shade of trees. In the poetic campus, we feel the dream of spring, the luxuriance of summer, the maturity of autumn and the meditation of winter. A school that can't even hold a pommel horse looks like a joke to me. All I can outline is a crumbling tile house.

"Our classroom is very dark, with only a few watts of lights."

"Teacher, I can't read the words on the blackboard clearly." A classmate interrupted the teacher's endless lecture. The teacher frowned and lit two bright chandeliers in front of the podium. This incident sounded the alarm for those sleepy and absent-minded students. I sighed helplessly and looked at some dazzling sunshine outside the window. It casts my shadow on the ground in a large area. I slammed the window and pulled my eyes back to the brightly lit podium. The light outside the window entered the classroom naughtily and blended with the lights in the classroom.

"Our desks and chairs are very old, and they are dumb when sitting on them."

I smiled faintly. The desks and chairs in our class are perfectly matched with high-tech computers, projectors and other equipment. Hooks were designed for students' umbrellas on the brand-new tables, but some desks and chairs are now "squeaky" under the destruction of some students.

I saw the children on TV. The red scarf on their chests is as bright as a burning fire in the spotlight. They stood stubbornly, but their voices were so soft, as if they were integrated into the melody of music, and the lights drew a faint outline for them.

"However, our homework is neat and our study is not bad!" Their voices suddenly increased a lot, which shocked me. "Others compare with my parents, and I will compare with others tomorrow!" Their eyes are full of brilliance in an instant, and they sincerely express their love for their parents and life. The thunderous firecrackers outside the window seemed to be isolated from the world for an instant, and their firm voice like a declaration echoed in my ears.

In my heart, a warm current is full of poetry, and I am immersed in this poem.

Silently, I branded this poem in my heart, which taught me to cherish everything I have in my heart now. What I long for is a kind of tolerant quality, be kind to people around me, whether living or studying, and return the warmth they gave me to those in need in the same way.

The children of migrant workers have little, but they have created a lot. Their simplicity and enthusiasm are like a piece of uncut jade. Although their edges and corners are somewhat different from those of cities, their innocence can purify the polluted air in cities. In fact, children in many cities live a superior life, but we grow up in honeypots, but we are so stingy that we don't even give a little love. Let those lonely children thrive like us. They are the flowers of the motherland, the rising sun in Ran Ran, and the grand plan for the future of the motherland also has a part of their structure. A familiar song echoes in my ear: "As long as everyone gives a love, the world will become a beautiful world ..."

For a long time, we have been growing up under the care of our families. We are brave on the road of life, but our families have been holding on to us and pushing us forward with their love. They surrounded us with love behind us and protected us from infringement. And we just keep moving forward, thus ignoring them behind us, so that we can't see the care and care of our families and feel their love for us. Have we ever thought about walking side by side with them and giving them love when they are loved?

Why don't we look back, we have always been by our side, silently supporting our family?

Why don't we walk side by side with them and give them love when we are loved?

Some things, missed is forever; Some people turn all their lives. Don't ignore any love, because after all, how many loves can you focus on?

We should cherish this love in front of us and learn to love by being loved, because not only do we need family members, but family members also need us, our love and our understanding.

Love, sometimes very simple. Even a small blessing can satisfy the family. But for so many years, only family members gave us blessings. Who can give them a blessing? And the family's blessings to us can already be woven into countless loves, but we have never even given a simple greeting to our family. Now let's send greetings to our families and give them love! Love is actually very simple.

Love has no distance. We live with our families every day, and only they have ever given us love. Did we give them love again? This makes the relationship between us worse and worse, and the distance is getting farther and farther, resulting in the so-called "generation gap". No matter how much love the family gives, it can't fill this gap. Only when we love them, will the generation gap disappear and the distance between us get closer and closer. Only by loving your family can you become a real family member. Love has no distance.

Only by being loved can you learn how to love others.