Thoughts on Reading Compassion for Peasants

After reading a book, everyone will have a new understanding and view of life. Now let's write a thoughtful comment. So, can it really be written? The following are some thoughts that I have carefully read "For the Benevolence of Farmers", which are for reference only and I hope to help you.

After reading "Compassion for Peasants", I feel 1 "It's noon to mow the grass, and sweat drips down the soil. Who knows that the Chinese food on the plate is hard. " This poem is about an old farmer weeding in the field under the scorching sun, and his sweat dripped into the soil under the seedlings one by one. This poem tells a profound story about the hard-won food, but who knows that this dish of Chinese food is made by farmers with painstaking efforts?

When we throw away the leftover food, will we think of those workers who worked hard in the scorching sun and did not forget to cultivate in the drizzle? When you hate their dark skin and calloused hands, do you know that what we eat and drink is the crystallization of their sweat?

Now that I have money, I don't worry about food and clothing, but I can't be extravagant. Although we have enough food and warm clothes, have we ever thought that somewhere in this world, some people may die of malnutrition or hunger? I still remember that in a Chinese class, when studying the text "Eyes eager to read", the Chinese teacher showed us several groups of photos of children in poor mountainous areas. I cried at that time. I can't believe that many of our peers still live in such a poor and backward environment. They are dressed in rags, eating steamed buns like black stones and living in houses exposed in the sky, while we are so young, but we go to brick factories to earn money. ...

As primary school students, we are not creators of wealth, but pure consumers. Therefore, we should form a good habit of respecting the fruits of others' labor from an early age, oppose the bad behavior of extravagance and waste, save food and cherish resources, and cherish every grain from now on.

When I was a child, I always heard some brothers or sisters sing the poem "It is noon when weeding, sweat drips down the soil, but every grain is on the table". When I was learning to sing, I didn't understand the meaning of this poem.

When I was in primary school, I finally understood the meaning of the poem "compassion for farmers", which told people to cherish food. Every grain of rice is bought by the farmer's uncle with sweat and labor, and must not be wasted.

When I read this poem, I feel a sense of shame because I often waste food. When eating, secretly pour some rice while adults are not paying attention. ...

I want to thank this poem, because they let me know what treasure is. Without it, I don't know how much rice would be wasted.

After reading this poem, I understand that a person should learn to cherish, and cherish should start from small things. Rice is the hard work of farmers' uncles. If all the farmers in the world hate that they don't care about food, so they don't grow vegetables, rice and wheat, then the world won't starve to death!

Ah, let's join hands and make an appeal to the world: cherish every grain of rice, jointly safeguard the earth's grain resources and prevent it from running out of grain.

Thoughts on reading "Compassion for Peasants" 3 During the summer vacation, the teacher arranged for us to read 70 ancient poems, one of which "Compassion for Peasants" inspired me deeply.

This ancient poem was written by Li Shen, a poet in the Tang Dynasty. This poem is familiar to everyone. The whole poem goes like this: it was noon when weeding, and sweat dripped down the soil. Who knows the Chinese food on the plate? Every grain is hard. The main content of the poem is: the farmer's uncle worked hard in the scorching sun, and his sweat dripped into the soil. Who knows that every grain of rice on our plate contains the hard work of the farmer's uncle. After reading poems and notes, I can't help feeling ashamed. I remember that there was always a lot of food left when I was eating, and a lot of rice grains would be lost. My mother often says that I eat like rice, and everything I can't finish is thrown away by my mother as garbage. I'm determined to pack as much as I can eat in a meal from now on, and I won't waste food and the fruits of farmers' uncle's labor any more. Students, join the rescue team. I think if everyone in the world cherishes every grain of food, many poor people in the world will no longer endure hunger and reduce many crimes, and our life will be better! Hurry up and act!

Thoughts on reading "Compassion for Peasants" 4 During the summer vacation, the teacher arranged for us to read 70 ancient poems, one of which "Compassion for Peasants" inspired me deeply.

This ancient poem was written by Li Shen, a poet in the Tang Dynasty. This poem is familiar to everyone. The whole poem goes like this: it was noon when weeding, and sweat dripped down the soil. Who knows the Chinese food on the plate? Every single grain is the fruit of hard work. The main content of the poem is: the farmer's uncle worked hard in the scorching sun, and his sweat dripped into the soil. Who knows that every grain of rice on our plate contains the hard work of the farmer's uncle? After reading poems and notes, I can't help feeling ashamed. I remember I always had a lot of food left over, and I lost a lot of rice grains. My mother often says that I eat like rice, and everything I can't finish is thrown away by my mother as garbage. Considering how hard it is for farmers to grow food, my behavior is a bit shameful, not only wasting food, but also wasting money. I am so ashamed! I am determined to pack as much as I can eat for a meal from now on, so as not to waste food and the fruits of farmers' uncle's labor. Students, join the rescue team, I think if everyone in the world cherishes everyone. Whole grains, then many poor people in the world will no longer endure hunger, and will also reduce many crimes, and our life will be better! Hurry up and act!

After reading "Compassion for Farmers", I feel 5 "After cutting the grain at noon, sweat drips down the soil …" This is an ancient poem that my mother and teacher taught me to learn.

When I was four years old, I had only a smattering of the meaning of ancient poetry. When eating, I always sprinkle some rice grains on the table. My mother often says my mouth is a "funnel mouth". My family laughs, and I giggle occasionally.

When I was seven years old, I read the first-grade text "Compassion for Farmers". After the teacher's vivid analysis and explanation, what I saw with my own eyes made me feel the hard work of farmers' uncles in the scorching sun. I know that every grain is full of farmers' blood and sweat.

I learned to cherish food, and I hate the waste of food. On the way home from school one day, I saw an uncle carrying a little girl about four or five years old and passing a barbecue shop. The girl clamored for roast duck legs. Without hesitation, my uncle took out his wallet and paid five yuan. As soon as the little girl took a bite, she frowned and said, "It's not delicious!" ""throw it away if it doesn't taste good! " Uncle also said a very simple sentence. The little girl threw the duck leg casually, and the uncle quickly raised his foot, kicked the duck leg into the ditch on the side of the road and kissed the little girl's red face. "Let's go! "Had finished, I went away.

At this moment, I really want to go forward and advise my uncle: don't waste that duck leg! But seeing uncle's dismissive expression, does he still care about a duck leg? Do you still care about the five dollars? I think of the old squad leader of the Red Army who starved to death on the grass in the golden hook, the little match girl who starved to death on the street on New Year's Eve, the starving children in western China, and the poor Haitian who made cookies with yellow mud and flour ... How can a greasy mouth understand the anxiety of hungry people about food? My eyes are red.

I learned on the Internet the night before yesterday that the food wasted by China people in one year is equivalent to the rations of 200 million poor compatriots. I want to appeal: let's cherish food together and lend a helping hand to people in poor areas!

After reading sympathy for farmers, I feel 6 "Xiaoqing, look at you, there is rice on the table again." Grandpa sat on the top edge of the square table, staring at my side, shaking his head and sighing softly, as if he saw what I had done wrong again, very helpless. I sat on the lower edge and looked down. It turned out that some rice grains were accidentally dropped from the bowl when I was eating just now. Three or five grains of rice are held together, white and fat, scattered around the bowl like sparkling pearls.

That is, grandpa just sighed. Grandma stopped chopsticks with vegetables. She stood up slowly, half bent, with a rice bowl in her left hand, and put it under the table beside my bowl. Her right hand put chopsticks together, like a broom sweeping the floor, and rowed large and small grains of rice into her bowl. Her hands are skinny and brown, no different from the old sponge rag on the edge of the pot. I know this is the result of her farm work. Grandma said nothing and sat back on the stool. My right hand quickly put a piece of bacon in my bowl with chopsticks. Grandpa seems to want to say something, but he still hesitates. I have a guilty conscience and dare not look. I looked down and ate bacon with relish.

My sister and I have been taken care of by my grandparents since childhood. At the earliest time, grandpa muttered "every grain is hard" while filling the rice on the table into his bowl, which I couldn't understand. Later, when grandma handed me the rice, she said to me, "Don't be short of chin again." My sister and I both laughed, and so did my grandfather. In the end, I guess they can't change me, and they won't say anything more. I haven't even read the only song grandpa knows, Compassion for Farmers.

It was terribly hot after school at noon that day. As soon as I got home, I sat down on the small bench at the door, only to hear my grandmother in the kitchen shouting, "Xiaoqing, go to the grassland and ask your grandfather to come back for dinner." I was surprised. I just thought, it's so hot outside, I have to walk so far. If only grandpa had a mobile phone. I hesitated for a while, but I went anyway Trotting all the way, I saw grandpa bending over to hoe in the cotton field, wearing a straw hat and holding a long hoe handle in his hand. Like an ancient soldier, he was more like a robot doing that action repeatedly, bending over, lifting the hoe, bending over and lifting the hoe again. ...

When I came to him, I found that Mianmiao, who was still in the backyard a few days ago, was almost a foot tall here. Green leaves and bright red leaves are mixed together, which is really beautiful, like a bonsai.

Grandpa saw me and smiled and said, "School is over. It's hot, go back first, and I'll come after this hoe. " With that, he pulled down his straw hat and went to work. When he bent down, I found that the shirt on his back was sweaty and tightly attached to his back, revealing the undulating spine. I still endured the heat and waited for my grandfather to really understand the meaning of "sympathy for farmers". Cut the grain at noon, and sweat drips down the soil. ...

Today's chin can't "leak" any more.

After reading "Compassion for Farmers", I feel that it is noon when weeding, and sweat drips down the soil. Who knows that the Chinese food on the plate is hard. " Li Shen, a poet in the Tang Dynasty, wrote this five-character quatrain: At noon, the sun roars the earth like a big fireball, and the farmer's uncle works hard under the scorching sun. "Crack, crack", the sweat soaked the coat of the farmer's uncle, flowed into the dark soil, and became the whole grains in the granary and on the dining table.

Reading this poem carefully, I almost burst into tears when I thought of the farmer's uncle sweating. The cicada on the tree kept calling "It's hot, it's hot". I jumped and laughed in the air-conditioned room and wondered if the air conditioner was not cooled. The farmer's uncle had to sweat in the sun ... It turned out that every grain we ate was the crystallization of the farmer's uncle's sweat.

However, many of us don't know how to cherish food. I once watched China on the Tip of the Tongue on TV at home. It is said that China people waste as much as 20xx billion yuan on the dining table every year. I don't know what 20xx billion is, and I can't figure it out. Now, I just learned the number within 10,000. But according to TV, these foods are enough for 200 million people to eat for a year! What a waste! How much sweat the farmer's uncle left behind! Those who think they are rich, those who don't know the hard work of farming, please take a look and think about it. It's not easy for a farmer's uncle to farm, but your waste is shocking and sad.

In the future, I must start from myself and cherish every grain; I also want to study hard and use the knowledge I have learned to alleviate the hardships of farmers' uncles.

After reading "Compassion for Farmers", I feel that it is noon when weeding, and sweat drips down the soil. Who knows that the Chinese food on the plate is hard. " This ancient poem, which can be read by a 3-year-old child, was written by Li Shen, a poet in the Tang Dynasty, more than/kloc-0.000 years ago.

Every time I read this Tang poem-"Compassion for Farmers", I think of such a scene: under the scorching sun, farmers are working hard in the fields, and the sweat of beans is dripping on the crops ... It turns out that every grain of rice we eat contains the hardships of farmers!

However, these phenomena can be seen everywhere around us: in restaurants, people eat big fish and meat, get as drunk as a fiddler, and after patting their butts, there are still a lot of delicious food left on the table; People pour a lot of food into buckets in the canteen every day; At birthday parties, people hold birthday cakes to fight guerrilla warfare ... whenever I see these phenomena, I will think of those poor families, children in mountainous areas, their eager eyes, and their tired bodies are hungry with cold. In contrast, our life is relatively rich. Growing up, our parents gave us the best food and used the best. We never knew what it was like to be hungry. So many children around us generally have the bad habit of wasting food. I think we should study the meaning of this ancient poem and learn to cherish food and resources!

Only by learning to cherish, starting from ourselves, starting from the small things around us, and developing the good habit of saving, can we truly understand the meaning of this ancient poem.

9 pages after reading "Compassion for Peasants".

Li Shen

At noon in summer, the sun is very hot, farmers are still working, and beads are dripping into the soil.

Who knows that every grain of Chinese food is hard?

I have read Li Shen's masterpiece "Compassion for Peasants". This ancient poem made me deeply understand that food is unjust, and let me know that each of us should cherish food and cherish it.

There is a person around me who doesn't care about food, that is, my little cousin, who always eats half and loses half when eating. Every time I waste a lot, I feel anxious when I see it in my eyes. Tell her, and she'll say, "It's okay to waste this."

Once, I saw her wasting food again, and I immediately said, "Sister! The delicious white rice you are eating now is planted by the farmer's uncle. Every grain of rice is full of the sweat of the farmer's uncle. Regardless of their stomachs, they insisted on weeding, watering and fertilizing crops in the scorching sun, and their sweat dripped into the soil. You, don't waste food in the future. " "Sister, I ... I will never waste food again." Sister blushed, embarrassed to say.

The grain was bought by the farmer's uncle with painstaking efforts, which condensed countless sweat. As the flowers of the motherland, we should not let the sweat and painstaking efforts of farmers' uncles be wasted. Come on! Let's act together, cherish food, cherish food!

Reading Compassion for Peasants has a feeling of 10. Last summer vacation, my father and I went back to our hometown. I harvested rice at my grandmother's house and personally experienced the hard and happy working life of farmers' uncles.

Every morning at dawn, the adults and children in the village get up. They hurried to the golden rice fields under the sunrise and began to work in a hurry. Suddenly, the "brush" sound of sickle cutting the valley, the "buzzing" sound of pedal stripper, the occasional laughter of adults, the crisp singing of children and the singing of birds converge into a touching symphony. I was intoxicated by the beautiful scenery and music.

Although the cool breeze blows gently, the busy farmers are soon sweating like a pig. They didn't wipe their sweat, but they still worked tirelessly. Children about my age, even younger than me, are picking up ears of rice in the field. I joined them and became their friends.

The sun climbed overhead and roasted the rice fields severely, and everyone was soaked. The adults told the children to go back, but they still insisted on working. A cart of rice from Huang Chengcheng was transported to the threshing floor, and the pole was bent. The voice of "creaking" seems to say, "At noon on the day of weeding, sweat drips down the soil, and every grain of Chinese food is hard"! Under the scorching sun, the farmer's uncle sweated and hoed the ground, lamenting the hard-won grain and warning people to cherish it. Class 4, Grade 5, Sixth Primary School, Jinchuan Company.

When I was reading a poem, I suddenly remembered that I had lunch that day and didn't eat much. At this time, a poem named "Compassion for Peasants" appeared in my collection of ancient poems. After reading it, I also remembered the day I helped my grandfather farm.

That day, my grandfather and I came to the vegetable field. In this hot vegetable field, my grandfather and I raised our hoes and slowly went to hoe the ground, watching him work hard there. I am exhausted and the sun is getting bigger and bigger, so I have to hide under the tree to enjoy the cool. At this time, grandpa is still working. I asked him to have a rest. Grandpa came to sit with me for a while. In less than a minute, he went to work again. He said that he does this every day. If he does less today, he will have to do more tomorrow, so he can't rest for long.

Seeing grandpa sweating, I had enough rest and continued to help grandpa, but I went to rest after working for a while, and grandpa continued to hoe the ground. Grandpa said to me, "you can't stand doing this for a while, so I'll work every day." Isn't that too tired to walk? " But I didn't listen at all. I was bored and had to go on working.

I work with my grandfather. When I finish here, I work there. When I finish there, I work in another place. Just as the work was about to be finished, my grandfather and I were all sweaty. Seeing that grandpa is still working hard, I have to keep working. Finally finished the work, I didn't expect the farmers to be so tired! I do this every day, but I think it's really wrong to waste food at dinner that day. If I can go back then, I will definitely eat all the rice.

After working for so long, a poem popped up in my mind: "It's noon when weeding, and sweat drips down the soil." Who knows that the Chinese food on the plate is hard. "