A composition describing the old man

The old lady in charge of bicycles in our alley is always sixty or seventy years old. She has silver hair, a bag on her shoulder every day, and faded blue overalls, charging parking people again and again. Whenever I see her doing this, I always think: Hum, at such a big age, I still have to "pick something". I really love money! However, one thing made me change my mind about her.

It was a day this summer vacation. I went to the park to play. It's really an "emergency". Just came out of the alley, with dark clouds, lightning and thunder, and a downpour. I didn't bring an umbrella, so I had to shelter from the rain along the street at the entrance of the alley. No sooner had I rushed downstairs than I saw a figure with a plastic poncho in his hand. But strangely, this poncho is not covered on yourself, but on the bike. I looked intently, ah, isn't that the old woman in charge of bicycles? I saw her facing the wind and braving the rain, taking care of nothing and trying her best to cover the car with a poncho. The poncho covered one piece after another. At this time, I was deeply moved by witnessing all this, and I also thought anxiously: Grandma is so old, will she catch a cold when she covers the car in the rain? Just thinking, there is a strong wind, so cold! I can't help shivering. Oh, no, the poncho that grandma just covered was blown away by the wind. Grandma quickly covered it again. Who knows, the wind seems to be deliberately against her, whistling, and just now this good poncho was blown away again! Grandma came up with a good idea. She limped to the corner of a garbage dump, laboriously lifted several big bricks and pressed the four corners of the plastic sheet one by one. In this downwind situation, even if you show your magic, you can't take the poncho!

The wind roared and the rain poured down. At this time, grandma was soaked to the skin, like a "soaked chicken" fished out of the water, but she didn't care. She just caressed her wet hair, dumped a handful of rain and smiled slightly.

Soon, someone came to pick up the car. When they saw the dry mat, they all opened their mouths and rolled their eyes in surprise. When they saw the old woman's wet body, everything understood. ...

Watching, watching, suddenly a feeling of being respected rose in my chest, and I finally understood that grandma didn't want to "pick points", but to give full play to the residual heat, serve everyone and make more contributions to the masses!

Now, whenever I meet this old woman, I always shout with respect: "Hello grandma"! I often listen to my uncle and aunt. Individual traders love to cheat. They use earthen potatoes as preserved eggs, fill the chicken belly with water and sell it to people. Bananas only sell for seven taels a catty. I don't like self-employed, and I never buy their things. However, one thing changed my impression of them, and I will never forget it.

It was a cold winter afternoon, and when I went to physical education class, I suddenly felt the air leakage under my feet. Looking down, I found my cotton shoes open and I went home. I told my father about it. Dad said, "winter is almost over, so buying new shoes doesn't count." Let's make it up! " "But there is no shoe repair shop near my home, so I have to put on my sneakers and go with my father to find the old man who repairs shoes near our school.

At this time, the sun is about to set in the west, and the cold northwest wind blows up the sand on the ground. People walked in a hurry against the cold wind. The old man who repaired shoes has packed the shoe repair box and is ready to go home. Seeing this, my father hurried forward and said, "Grandpa, can you mend this child's shoes? His shoe series was opened in physical education class. " The old man looked at the whistling wind and hesitated, but then he saw me wearing broken sneakers and said, "All right!" " "

The old man reopened the shoe repair box, sat on the stool, picked up my shoes, looked at them and mended them. I studied the old man carefully. His gray hair, bronzed face, bright eyes and wrinkles on his forehead. Due to years of repairing shoes, his hands were covered with thick cocoons. He held a shoe cone in one hand and a thread in the other, sewing needle by needle. It was so cold that he stopped from time to time and blew his mouth with his hand. After a while, the crack closed, but he didn't stop. He pulled up the place where the thread was about to open one by one, sewed it again, and said to himself, "The shoes worn by the children are not strong." As he spoke, he repaired it carefully. But I thought to myself, "Well, didn't you overcharge me?"

The shoes were mended, and the old man's hands were frozen stiff. Dad asked him softly, "How much is it?" He held out two sticky fingers in his right hand and said without looking up, "Twenty cents." I was startled. Dad asked him how much money he could earn a day while paying. He said, "Hey, what money is not money? Just for everyone's convenience! " "The old man's words like a small hammer on my heart. ...