Describe the mother's back

Describe the mother's back. Motherly love is not as deep as father's love. Her love is selfless. That day, my mother was busy in the kitchen. I stood at the door watching. Suddenly I found my mother's back bent, not as straight as before. My eyes are sour and tears run across my face. I ran over and hugged my mother's back tightly and said, "Mom, you have worked hard."

Everyone's mother's image is different, and her back is definitely different. You can think about the back of your mother at work, the back of doing housework at home and the back of sending you to school.

My mother is not very tall, but she is strong. Every time I see my mother running around for me, the figure is so high. ...

It is hard to forget that whenever I am sick, the word "biography" is squeezed out from my busy mother's forehead. Whether it is scorching sun or stormy weather, my mother will go to various pharmacies to buy medicine. Looking at her sweaty back or wet back, I have mixed feelings. ...

It's hard to forget that in order to help me buy exercise books or counseling materials, my mother went out early and returned late, traveling all over the city and buying me satisfactory exercise books. Whenever my classmates envy me for having such a good mother, I always think of my tired and panting back, and my heart is full of gratitude. ...

It's hard to forget how serious my mother is about her work. Every day, she goes out early and comes back late. Sometimes she works overtime for a data, and sometimes she is even busy until eleven o'clock. When I saw her busy back, my heart was full of admiration. ...

Although my mother can't accompany me to travel all the time, no matter how busy and tired she is, she will take time to buy books for me. My mother is not only enterprising, but also loves her family. This love is not reflected in giving me a lot of pocket money, but in caring about my every little thing. I have a good mother, whose back is the highest, and my most familiar back is full of maternal love, which I will never forget.

Mom's back.

Dedicated to mom.

Brush away the wind and frost of the years

mother

I am still you.

Young trees planted in spring

Naje

Green is in your heart

This poem is really well written. How much has my mother done for us? My mother's back is reflected in my heart and in my mind. How many times I silently looked back at her back, it echoed in my heart for a long time and could not be erased for a long time. ...

Like other children, I used to resent my mother's bondage. In my eyes, my mother is always nagging and unreasonable. Up to now, I still don't understand how this kind of * * * song between children came into being. In fact, in our own hearts, we all know what maternal love is. Every day when I leave home, my mother's exhortation always rings behind me: "Be careful on the road, do you have a key?" If I forget something in the morning and call home, she will send it to me soon. Every night, she will accompany me to do my homework late into the night to test what I learn every day. These dribs and drabs, although only dribs and drabs, will move me when they accumulate.

However, perhaps the so-called adolescent rebellious mentality is at work. Every time I am obviously moved, I often say something that doesn't matter, showing my disdain for that love. I grew up with my mother's selfless love. But I don't know why, I am always ashamed to say "I love you, Mom". I have always felt that family ties are innate and do not need to be managed. Therefore, I always ignore the important communication with my mother and dear.

Until that day, I realized that love is silent, but its power is often extraordinary. I told my mother that I wanted to buy what I needed. Unexpectedly, my mother quickly agreed to take me to the supermarket to choose the things and books I needed. Spent a lot of money. What my mother did surprised me. My mother usually makes a fortune by saving money, but I spend it lavishly. Is it worth it? Not worth it!

As soon as my heart warms up, I think of what I did on weekdays, and then I feel ashamed and ashamed when I look at this figure without complaint. What makes her so generous, and what makes her so willing to give? Is this a family? It seems that I am still naive and think that I have grown up, but I don't know anything.

I remember once, when I went to the "labor base", my mother kept watching me until I got on the bus, and kept telling me about how much great maternal love it contained. The bus left, my mother left, and my back appeared in front of me. My mother is still worried about me, still worried about me.

Motherly love doesn't need to be expressed in too many words, but it needs to be understood slowly with heart.

Back, back, you are the driving force that inspires me to study. I will never forget you. This is really a beautiful scenery.

Yes, if I were a cloud, my mother would be my eternal sky. If I were a first-class sailboat, my mother would be my constant harbor. If I were a tired swallow, maternal love would be my forever nest.

Mom, I love you, and I love your back more. Because it encourages me to keep moving forward on the bumpy road of study and life.

Writing a mother's composition imitates reading Zhu Ziqing's back, perhaps because he is still young. He still can't really understand what his father's back left Zhu Ziqing, but he feels a little sour. Recalling the vast sea, I recall the past in my mind, but everything is vague, and the only clear thing is my mother's back.

At that time, I was in a large kindergarten class and had to take the exam to upgrade. For me so young, it was really a big exam at that time. That night, my mother didn't ask anything about the exam. I asked my mother to help me prepare for the exam. My mother said that she would do her own thing without any encouragement or comfort. At that time, my tears of disappointment flowed down.

The next day, I ignored my mother and ran to school with my schoolbag on my back. At the school gate, parents lead their children one by one, asking questions and questions about exams. I suddenly feel that I have been greatly wronged, and tears are spinning in my eyes. I thought, "doesn't mom love me anymore?" The more I think about it, the more wronged I am, but I still hold a glimmer of hope. I'll look back after two steps. How I wish my mother would suddenly appear in front of me like a myth. As we get closer and closer to the examination room, our hopes are fading. But I never saw my mother's figure, my hopes were completely shattered, and the tears of grievances could not stop, like spring water, and I choked into the examination room. During the exam, my thoughts wandered, and I accidentally saw a vague figure, which was so familiar-it was my mother, and I wanted to rest assured because I got the answer.

On that day in June, the child's face changed, and it was still clear in Wan Li. Suddenly it turned cloudy. Suddenly, it began to rain cats and dogs. I can't help looking out of the window. In the twilight, I can only see my mother's figure, so vague and clear.

I want to rush out and let my mother go home, but there is nothing I can do. I walked through the rain curtain and looked at my mother's back for a long time. My mother's back in the rain is deeply imprinted in my heart.

The middle school student's composition describes that when she left, the dark green leaves on her mother's back turned a little yellow. Summer has lost yesterday's heat, cicadas have lost their old songs, and the sweet-scented osmanthus carefully cultivated by grandma at home has lost a few leaves, and even the crops have gradually matured. I walked in the Woods in front of my hometown, and the cicada's heart-rending cry had already disappeared in the Woods, only the rushing sound of the stream and the wind, and only the cicada's weak body could be seen everywhere. It's almost autumn now, but I'm not happy. Autumn has lost all the vitality of summer. How I like the lush trees, the chirping of cicadas and the dazzling sunshine of the sun. ...

It's almost over. I hope most that green will fill my life. I haven't forgotten an unknown little flower under a lush tree. This little flower decorated my life. Autumn is like a piece of yellow paper, which is boring all over the autumn. I am a child who doesn't like autumn. I know that a little yellowing in autumn means losing my vitality and my favorite pleasure-catching cicadas. The feeling of depression and boredom filled my heart. I know that after autumn, these pleasures will disappear one by one, so that my life will lose some color.

The last summer rain has arrived, and this rain is my last commemoration of summer. Autumn rain has gone bad and become stale. I am a child who likes rainy days. I like the rain in summer, the wild scenery of lightning and thunder, and the freshness left after heavy rain. It hardly rains in autumn, even if it rains, it won't be too heavy. The last summer rain, all I can do is remember it, because I know that I can only see it next year.

2

Standing on the tail of summer, I am waiting for the cicada to sing.

I don't know when autumn will come, but I know that without cicadas, autumn will come quietly, without warning and shadow. I walked to a forest, hoping to find traces of cicada singing. Unfortunately, no, I can't believe that autumn has come. Until I opened the calendar, my hanging heart finally settled down. Without beginning of autumn, why is there no cicada chirping? I kept asking myself, trying to find the answer, but there was no answer. Once again, I walked on a long road in the forest. There are only some cicada bodies on the ground, and some cicadas who can't fly are struggling for the last time. Seeing this scene, my heart was full of sympathy and loss. I really hope that time can go back, but I can't. All I can do is deep sympathy.

Standing under the tree, I looked at the branches, hoping to find the trace of cicada. I was disappointed, but I didn't give up. I wanted to find the trace of cicada, but I didn't find it or gave up. By the time I came to my senses, it was already evening, and the glory of the setting sun spread all over the earth. I know it is impossible to find cicadas now, so I have to give up and stare at the forest once full of cicadas again, shaking my head in disappointment.

Mother is the sea, and I am just a drop in the ocean. If you ask me what is the most beautiful thing in the world? Is it a flawless white chrysanthemum, a rich peony, or a lotus that grows out of mud but is not stained? No, the most beautiful thing in the world is not words, but love.

A deep feeling, the most beautiful thing in the world is my mother's back ... In my mind, almost everything is vague, only my mother's back is clear, which makes me so impressed, so profound ... My mother is always so greedy for petty gain. Every time I see her back, I stand behind her, as if my mother is a greedy housewife, but ... it's not, because my mother loves her family. In the cold winter, I read in the classroom early. Suddenly, my mother's figure flashed through the window. She stood outside the window and mumbled, "Daughter, your clothes." I was so embarrassed! I had to walk out of the classroom with my head down. I complained in my heart, "Mom, why did you give me clothes so that my classmates could look at me with derision?" However, a feeling at this time ruined my view of my mother. Out of the classroom, my mother quickly said, "You are really a big head shrimp.". You even forgot your clothes. Put on your clothes quickly. Don't catch cold. I'm going to work. I'm gonna be late. Goodbye. " My mother's hands were cold the moment she took the clothes. I have a lot of sighs at this time. My mother seems to have come here to send me clothes, and she doesn't have much clothes on her. Looking at the back of my mother's gradual departure, how much have I done for her in the past ten years and how much has she done for me? She has done tens of thousands of things, and I don't think what I have done for her is one tenth of what she has done for me. I have always hated my mother's nagging and her repeated words-"Be careful on the road", "Go home early after school" and "Put on more clothes when it is cold" ... Although these words are simple, they contain a great mother's concern for her daughter. Mom, my daughter loves you, and her daughter understands you ... gradually, I find that my ignorance and willfulness have faded and disappeared under my mother's back.

Yes, maternal love is like the sea, so deep, so deep; Motherly love is like a stream, nourishing my dry heart; Motherly love is like selfless sunshine, never stingy anywhere, always spreading selfless love to every lonely corner. My mother loves me, and I love my mother. Mom came back and let me know a lot. ...

Mom's back. My mother is over 60 years old this year, but from the back, she is at least seven or eight years younger than her actual age. I think this may be the result of my mother's tireless work every day, so there will be today's masterpiece.

I am an out-and-out rural child. In my young mind, my mother's back is always tall. Although I didn't fully understand the hardships of my mother's life at that time, sometimes she sang while walking, even while working, because my mother always showed a happy smile and hearty laughter. In short, my mother when I was young was a very cheerful, optimistic and enthusiastic person. I remember the first time I saw my mother's back was on my way home from school. A few friends and I vaguely saw a small Chaishan moving slowly in front of me. I went in and ran to the front. It was my mother. At that time, I was surprised at how she had such great strength to carry such a big load of firewood. At that time, the weather had turned cold, but I clearly saw the sweat left on my mother's face. For the first time in my life, I couldn't help crying, but my mother said to me very flatly, "Why are you crying?" It won't kill you. As long as you can study hard, go to college in the future and leave this place, your mother will be satisfied. " At that time, although I didn't really understand the true meaning of my mother's words, at least in my young mind, I knew that only by studying harder could I help my mother out of the predicament, so I studied harder because I wanted to listen to my mother and not let her be sad and disappointed.

More than 30 years have passed in a blink of an eye, and now my mother has lost her former style. Despite the family happiness of children and grandchildren around their knees, I can clearly read the sense of loss from my mother's face, because my mother's smile is gone, my mother's singing is no longer ringing, and there are only her silent and busy back. My mother never seems to know what tired means, let alone sit down and have a rest and watch TV. My mother always says half jokingly, "You go ahead and I'll do it." At this time, I often have a sense of worry. Because I really don't want to see my mother's tireless busy back again, because I hope to see her smiling face again and listen to her singing attentively, but at present, I'm afraid it's difficult to do so. For this reason, I often blame myself and feel guilty, because I have brought my mother into trouble. Although my mother is very ordinary, just like a stream between hills, in my heart, my mother's image is tall and I love her deeply. I hope to have one.

Describe the mother's hand, but what kind of hand! The fingers are thick and short, the palms are covered with calluses, and the palm prints have become dense and criss-crossed, and a layer of mud will never be washed away. Like dry pine bark, it is like the bottom of a badly broken mud pond. The palms are covered with calluses, and the backs of the hands are wrinkled. Deep cuts will appear on your fingers in winter. At this time, my mother will wrap her fingers with a band-aid to relieve the pain of washing dishes and clothes.

You can describe the shape first, and then summarize something about mom's hands.

Describe the mother's feet. Mother's feet are a pair of feet full of maternal love. Although they have been honed by wind and frost, I still like them very much, because they are a pair of feet that raise us.