Describe the rough hands of the farmer uncle holding red beans composition 200

I realized how difficult it is for farmers. Today, my father called me aside and said mysteriously: "Today my grandma and I are going to harvest wheat. Are you going?" "Go!" I said excitedly, It’s so boring at home.

“Go, you have to work, you can’t just play!” Dad requested. “Okay!” I promise! Grandma is rinsing the bowl, so we set off first! Dad looked I was so tired that "haha" laughed at me for a long time. I was angry but

and speechless, so I turned my back and looked at Maizi. Maizi was shaking his head in the wind like a child. The more I looked at it, the more I liked it. "How to cut, Dad?" I asked puzzledly. At this time, Dad raised his hand and said, "No! No! Children can't be cut. What should I do if my hand is cut?" After that, Dad used I picked up some wheat with my hands and cut their roots with a sickle. After three strokes, five divided by two, I cut a bundle. At this moment, grandma came: "Go down and cool down in the shade of the tree!" "Oh" I replied

In response, I pulled up a few wheat trees to eat. The distant sea of ??wheat fields and the hard-working farmers formed a simple rural picture. Grandma and dad did not complain about being tired. They hunched their backs little by little under the scorching sun. The wheat was cut, and there was no fatigue or pain on the face. There was only the joy of harvest... Finally, time passed and there were piles of wheat on the ground. "Okay, your mission Just pick up the wheat that fell on the ground, and don’t miss any grains." Dad

Dad gave me the order and mercilessly pulled me up from the shady ground. "Oh" I was extremely reluctant. I stood up and sighed... One stick, two sticks... There were more and more trophies in my hands. This tiring and boring job made me feel very boring. I was sweating after a while. It crawled up my face and dripped on a row of rough oranges. My movements became slower and slower, and soon my father shouted: "Junyi, hurry up!" "Here it comes." I raised my head.

I turned my head to look, wow! So many cuts were made again! Hey!... I looked at the pile of fruits of labor exchanged for my own sweat and strength, and shook my head: "It's not easy. !" I stroked the pile of golden wheat, like stroking a pile of gold... "Who knows that every grain of food on the plate is hard work." Whenever I see farmers working, I I will always be in awe and never have the bad habit of wasting food again. Farmers, it’s not easy!