A composition describing a father telling stories to his children.

My father told me a story and wrote 450 words.

Father's face is square, his eyes are small, and his hair stands up like a hedgehog! Hee hee! When my father hears what I say, he will grin and stare and say, "Well ..."

Dad loves beer, that mouth! As soon as it was time for dinner, two cans of beer went down with a grunt. I couldn't help licking the beer with chopsticks and tasting it, which made my father like it so much! As soon as I get to my mouth, I grin with pain!

Dad loves eggs and fish noodles, so he pours garlic juice on them and eats them in a big way. A bowl of noodles snores, and it's all eaten in a few times! Reminds me of "Little Pig Sobs". When I was eating, "quack quack quack quack" and "grunt quack" sounded, which made my bowl bubble. From then on, everyone called the pig "Snoopy". I told my father the story of the little pig, and then I said to my father, "You happen to be a pig, too. Just ask the big pig to' snoop'! " My mother laughed her head off, and my father blew his beard and glared and said, "Well ..."

Dad loves to study, and their unit has exams every year. Like a pupil, he studies with a book every day! When the results were announced after the exam, he passed, and the star rating was again.

< 2 > Write a composition in which the old man and the children tell stories together.

My great-grandmother is a chicken, and she is 90 years old this year. 192 1 She was born in a small town near Ningbo. When she was young, she came to Shanghai with her grandfather to make a living. I especially like going to my grandmother's house because she will tell me many stories about her childhood. When I first arrived in Shanghai, my family was poor and I had no extra money to improve my life. All income is mainly used to meet food and clothing. They gave birth to three boys, four girls and seven children in tandem. You can imagine how difficult it is to feed these children. In my grandfather's generation, life began to be stable, and the children of great grandparents also got married, moved out of their ancestral home and had their own world. At this time, life has improved. Grandpa visits his great-great-great-grandmother every week, which is the happiest moment for the old man. When my father was a child, my grandfather would take my father to visit them and enjoy family happiness. Today, this tradition has been inherited and carried forward. Although our life is very rich, my father will often take me to visit my grandmother. Grandma is still alert and talkative, and likes to talk to us about what happened in the past 90 years. What I feel most is that in the past 90 years, the life of our whole family has improved obviously, from nothing to food and clothing, which is a microcosm of the great changes that have taken place in our country.

How to write a 400-word composition by telling a story to my father on Father's Day?

Forever "big tree"

I just came to this colorful world and saw my closest relatives-mom and dad!

Mom and dad are like a big tree, deeply rooted. I am a happy child enjoying the cool in the shade. There will be cool breeze when it is hot in summer, and warm sunshine when it is cold. Everything is so beautiful.

Until one day, the sky revealed a long-suppressed sadness. As the sun sets, the faint sunshine pours in every warm corner like bundles of cold light. The colors all over the world are so dim, the cold clouds condense instantly, and the sky is covered in large areas, which is even darker.

At this moment, the leafy giant tree withered instantly, and the dark yellow leaves fell with tears, just like the dead butterfly reluctant to land in the slow airflow. Under the tree, I was quiet and stared at it for a long time.

The separation of parents is a great pain in my heart. I can't say that I will stay in Lacrimosa all day, because I was really young then. I am hazy about all this, but I just feel that the line that invisibly crosses my heart is getting thinner and thinner, and I feel deep, just like a fish without water, struggling to breathe, but it will only be more painful.

Seeing the parents of children of the same age holding their tender hands, my tears drop by drop, ticking. . . . . .

The sad scene did not last long. My father's fiery hand held my little hand, and a warm current came straight to my heart. In spring, the tree slowly took root again, and my little heart was beating with excitement.

I remember when I was five years old, my father took me to see the fountain I had been waiting for for for a long time.

In the crowded square, the joy in my heart welled up like a clear spring. Fountains are colorful and beat with the rhythm of music. Like a group of dancers, dancing the most beautiful dance.

I said to my father, "Dad, I want to run in the fountain like them!" "

Dad said very hard, "no, you'll catch a cold!" " "

I pouted, thinking that my father was always like this, and he was "stingy". Take a taxi home after the game, how can you catch a cold! Dad said, "well, go ahead and come back when you are cold!" " "

I ran barefoot to the spring. It was really fun. Round water splashed on me and I smiled happily. I look at the highest fountain, and I wish I could sit on it, so that I can find the brightest star in the bright starry sky and pick it for my father! A cool breeze blew, and my little teeth shook faster and faster. Trembling all over, I ran to my father and said, "I'm cold."

Dad picked me up and turned and ran. I clung to my father's chest and listened to my rapid heartbeat. Dad took off his pants and clothes as he ran and covered me.

People around you cast strange eyes and saw the man with a blank face and only a pair of trousers hanging on his body holding a little girl, all talking and pointing.

I don't know how long it took, but when I got home, my father was covered with water droplets, whether it was water droplets or something.

My father gasped and said to me, "Dad has no extra money now. I have to pay your tuition and insurance. No money. I'm sorry dad can't take a taxi home. Is it still cold? "

I forgot what I said later. Now that I think about it, my heart is full of complicated emotions and I am very entangled. It feels so fake to say thank you to your father.

The tree has paid countless sacrifices for himself, and countless invisible lines are passing through his heart all the time. The weather is unusually warm, and the trees are getting more and more energetic and happy, all because of dad's dear watering!

The composition about storytelling is about education.

I am a girl who loves telling stories. My parents, grandparents and my classmates have told me many stories. In my memory, my mother once told a story that I will never forget.

My mother told me that this is a true story. This story tells the story of a boy who lives in poverty and tries to save his tuition. His sales promotion didn't go well. Finally, in despair, he knocked on a door, hoping that his master would give him a glass of water. The young hostess smiled and handed him a cup of thick hot milk. The boy drank it with tears in his eyes, and he regained the courage to live. Many years later, he became a famous surgeon. One day, the famous doctor operated on a seriously ill woman and saved her life, but the woman could not afford the expensive operation. Just then, the doctor found that the woman was the woman who gave him that cup of hot milk many years ago! He decided to pay the operation fee for her quietly. So when she went through the discharge formalities, she saw these seven words on the operation fee list: operation fee: a glass of milk.

After telling the story, my mother smiled and asked me, "Does it sound good? Do you understand anything? " I pondered for a moment and said, "Thank you!" I understand why my mother told me this story. She wants me to have a grateful heart like that doctor. I also deeply realized from this story that gratitude is the most beautiful sentiment in the world. Now we are all only children, spoiled since childhood, and we are all naked and unable to make ends meet. Everything that parents, elders and teachers do for us is taken for granted in some people's eyes. So how to have a "grateful heart"? Fatherly love and maternal love are the most ordinary and greatest kindness. Who will ask us questions, who will prepare a sumptuous meal to welcome our children home, and who will cheer us up when we encounter difficulties? I think as children, we can't be ungrateful. Let's start with this basic gratitude to our parents, cook for our mother, beat our father's back and write our thanks to our parents. More importantly, study hard now and don't disturb our parents. Being a useful person to society in the future is the best reward for parents.

Although my mother has been telling this story for a long time, the figure of the doctor often comes to my mind. Let us all have a grateful heart like that doctor, and there will be love between us. With love, our life will be more harmonious and beautiful.

Wu Zuowen tells stories to his parents.

Dear Mom and Dad:

Please forgive me for telling you my mind in this way.

I have been a playful child since I was a child. Like a tomboy, climbing trees and catching shrimp with boys ... you never stopped me and gave me love that other children can't match. I thank you very much!

Since I went to school, you have also worked hard for my academic performance. I have seen it. I am not a hard-working child, and I also admit that I have been learning by my own cleverness, so my academic performance has been unsatisfactory. Now I'm in grade three, and I have more and more homework. You tried many ways to get me into a key high school. You hired me as a tutor, bought a lot of counseling books, and asked the teacher about me every week. Have you ever thought about how I feel? ! I am like a caged bird, living under your supervision every day, and my every move is restricted by you. I am really miserable, but I have never expressed my dissatisfaction, because you did it for my own good, and also for my future success and living in the envious eyes of others. But I'm really tired. My classmates asked me to go out to play at the weekend, but you shut me down. I thought it was that damn math tutor! Besides, there's one thing I didn't say. Last Saturday, I came home from an energy tutorial class and saw that my diary had been touched. A terrible thought appeared in my new room: You peeked at my diary! I was really angry at that time, but I could see my father's rickety figure busy repairing his bike. That car is your dowry when you get married. When I was a child, my father used to ride it to take me to the park. That was really the happiest time of my childhood! It has reached the age of "retirement", but in order to buy me more counseling books, my father has been riding it to work. I turned around and saw my mother sewing my school uniform. The dim light keeps your eyes from crying, but my desk is covered with advanced eye protection lights. The white hair on my mother's temple makes me want to cry. I retreated. I finally held back. I quietly put my diary back in the drawer. ...

Mom and Dad, let me tell you a story. "Mr. Wang, who works in an agency in Nanjing, has become more and more anxious recently. He found that his daughter, who was in the second year of high school, was increasingly alienated from himself. Under normal circumstances, the daughter will take the initiative to find him except when she wants money, and will not disturb him. Not long ago, Mr. Wang quietly booked a banquet for his daughter's birthday. On her birthday, my daughter was very happy and much more enthusiastic about him. Seven or eight students were invited to the birthday dinner. Looking at her happy appearance, Mr. Wang was secretly pleased, which opened her heart. Unexpectedly, not long after the toast, my daughter picked up the glass and said politely, "Dad, thank you for everything you prepared for me today, but I have a small request." Can you give us some space tonight? "The daughter's marching order made the husband laugh and cry, so he had to leave with an empty stomach and inexplicably sad."

The purpose of speaking out is to make you understand: don't tie me to you all the time, but also give me some space of my own. "The sky is high enough for birds to fly; The sea is wide enough for fish to jump. " I 16 years old, and I know what I should and should not do. I can feel your love for me from every little thing, but please use the right method.

Dad, mom, I really love you. I will try my best to improve my grades in the future, and I won't let you worry about your study any more, so I will feel very distressed.

"Lu" Dad told me a story and wrote 350 words.

I like listening to stories. There are many strange things in it. Those beautiful and magical stories always bring me a lot of beautiful imagination. When I was a child, my mother always told me many fairy tales before going to bed, which made me full of yearning every night. Now I like to listen to idiom stories, which are interesting and philosophical and can make me understand a truth. Especially in class, I show myself for 2 minutes every day, and the students tell fables, which fascinates me.

On weekends, I decided to tell stories to my parents at home so that I could tell them to my classmates. On this day, after dinner, I walked up to my parents and said, "Hey hey, everybody sit tight. Let me tell you a story. " Dad doesn't believe that I can tell a story: "Go, go and study." Mom also said: "Asia, stop playing, do your homework and tell stories before going to bed." I looked at them discontentedly: "You don't respect me at all." Seeing that I was anxious and serious, my mother quickly turned off the TV and stood side by side with my father, watching me sit on the sofa in confusion. "I want you to give me advice. I am preparing for a wonderful 2 minutes. " Mom and dad nodded, looked at me seriously and began to listen to my story.

I stood in front of the sofa and introduced loudly: "Today, my story is called" A Castle in the Air ". Once upon a time, there was a man who was called a stupid rich man. One day … "It was quite simple to watch my classmates tell stories on the podium, but I found it was not like this when I told them myself. I finally, uh-huh, uh-huh (slowly) finished. "everyone laughs at stupid rich people ... my story is over, please comment on it."

My mother gave me 9.9, and my father gave me 9.7. "Dad, why is your score low? Tell me. " Dad said to me, "Think about it. When telling stories, I always look around, but I don't look at my parents. Is that telling us a story? " I can't feel it talking to us at all. Also, telling stories is not memorizing texts. Storytelling is about suspense. You have to create suspense through your confident expression, and it will be vivid and charming when you are integrated into your feelings. Look at you for a while, and others will lose their spirits. "Dad said I just uncomfortable all the things. I humbly accepted my father's instruction and asked him to analyze the key points for me. Then I muttered to them for a while. I told them again after I was fully prepared. This time, my picky dad also gave me a high score of 9.9. I am very happy. I still have to think about it and wait to tell my classmates. I also said to my mother, "in the future, you should not only give me praise, but also give me advice." Mom smiled and agreed.

I am very happy that I can tell a story vividly. I find that sometimes criticism makes me feel more valued and happy than praise. I like this beautiful day.

Qi's 400-word composition Dad who loves telling stories.

Love my dad.

Everyone is surrounded by people they are familiar with. Of course I want to. He's my dad's dad.

Dad is in his thirties this year, and his black hair is always well combed. He is very tall,

There are a few white hairs and a pair of shiny black eyes under the faint eyebrows. He paid for me.

I learned a lot. Every day, he gets up early to send me to school.

One day I found his eyes were black. I said to my father, "Just sleep for a while.

I can go to school by myself. But he said to me, "It doesn't matter, I can still sleep after you go to school."

For a while. Leave me alone, as long as you study hard and get good grades, I won't be tired again.

Afraid. "Then I went to school. I smiled and said to my father, "Why don't you go to bed early at night?

I'm so tired. "Dad smiled and said," I see. "

This is my father, a considerate and kind person. When I grow up, I will

Take good care of my father. Take care of him as he treats me, because he is a good role model for me.

Dad told me a story and wrote 380 words.

My father loves me very much. When I am sick, he will take good care of me. He will encourage me and help me when I encounter difficulties in my study.

I remember when I was five years old, I was still in kindergarten. One day at noon, I suddenly felt dizzy and couldn't eat anything. The teacher found that I had a fever and immediately called my father. Father is at work, anxious and worried, and can't eat. He asked for leave to pick me up to see a doctor. The doctor took my temperature. My temperature is over 40 degrees. Father almost cried when he heard this. The doctor told him to pay attention to observation when prescribing medicine. My father is always by my side. He told me stories, fed me medicine, took my temperature and put a towel on me. A few days later, my illness recovered, but my father was ill.

Although my father takes good care of me in life, he is very strict with me in study!

In the second grade, I skipped a math class, but I didn't listen to the teacher's class at all. After school, I regretted and was afraid. When I got home, I took out my math exercise book and couldn't understand any of the homework questions. I just sat there thinking for over an hour. My father asked me what was going on, and I bowed my head in shame. I hesitated and told my father everything. Maybe even hit me. Unexpectedly, my father said nothing, just sat down and patiently taught me one question after another. At this moment, my heart gushed out like a clear spring. I listened carefully to my father's explanation and understood it at once. My father patted me on the shoulder, and I understood what my father wanted to say.

My father's love is like mountains and seas. I want to love my father as my father loves me, and take care of my father as my father takes care of me.

Look at the picture and speak. Dad tells stories at night.

One night after dinner, my father told me an interesting story about his childhood. I think: Dad's childhood must have a lot of fun or funny things.

What is particularly interesting is that in summer, every day after school, they all take off their clothes and go swimming in the pond naked, having a water fight, touching shrimps and catching fish. When they were fighting for water, they put their hands together and threw water in each other's faces. Sometimes someone throws water on my dad's face, and my dad's eyes are a little unclear. He stepped back, accidentally tripped over a stone, choked a few mouthfuls of water, and fell into the water like a cannonball. Another interesting thing is that my father threw water on a person's face, then put the person's head in the water, and finally let him go suddenly like an underwater rocket.

Another interesting thing is to touch shrimp and catch fish in the pond. I heard that dad has a good fisherman who can catch fish every time. At that time, my father occasionally caught a fish. Once my father went to catch a fish, but he missed it, but was caught by a big crab. Is it funny? Look at this "game" of touching shrimp and catching fish.

Was my father's childhood funny?