Write a composition with the back of your hand described like this.

1. How to write the composition course "Playing the back of your hand"? I am a naughty and quiet girl, and my teacher likes me very much. Don't mention hitting me. My parents treat me like a child, so naturally they won't hit me. The person who hit my palm for the first time turned out to be my classmate. Listen to me carefully.

At noon, our class is going to sleep, and the teacher has chosen several people who usually behave well (including me, Zhang and Chen) to take charge. I have hated siesta since I was a child, and school is no exception. Because I am the face of the monitor, they dare not criticize me. They just talked about me, and finally one day Zhang couldn't help it, so they said, "Wang, if you do this again, I will treat you equally next time." I thought to myself: nothing, I'm not afraid. The young lady is afraid. It doesn't scare me that easily.

Two days later, it was Zhang Guan's turn. At first, I did my duty. I play with my fingers. In less than half an hour, I became impatient. At this moment, Zhang is hitting a person's palm. I glanced at the person who was slapped. Zhang took the pointer and said, "Hit twenty times. Those who are not asleep are also listening. I found a man 20. " I'm not afraid. I continue to entertain myself. Gradually, gradually, I became presumptuous and obviously read under the table. That's great. Zhang came to me step by step with a pointer. God, she won't really hit me. I shouted silently in my heart. Zhang came to my desk and said to me; "I warned you yesterday, hold out your hand, twenty times, don't beg for mercy. This time I made up my mind. " Alas, the tiger fell to Pingyang and was bullied by dogs. This time I was doomed, so I had to reach out and say to her, "Be gentle." "I treat everyone equally." Thinking about the man who was slapped so big just now, I haven't been slapped yet. What should I do? What should I do? Helpless, only let her play. Watching the teaching stick held high and landed heavily in my palm, the word "pain". Two three four five. . God, help me. How much is left after 20 strokes? I called for help, and finally, the 20 strokes were over. Zhang said to me, "Look, sleep well in the future and I won't hit you." Say that finish, also gently stroked my hand and blew a sigh.

Afterwards, I thought to myself: well, although the monitor is the monitor, he has to abide by the rules. I won't do it next time.

The first time I was slapped, I knew that a gentleman broke the law and was guilty of the same crime as Shu Ren. I will have a good sleep in the future.

2. How to write the composition "Beating Hands" This Friday afternoon, in the second class, the teacher's classroom chattered and assigned homework to the whole class. Listen to me, several classmates. Wang quarreled for five minutes, and then the family was quiet. I was dumbfounded. I know my homework. Ask more questions. Finally began to write the homework assigned by the teacher. This course is too straight to be completed in June or July. I'm glad I didn't lose my homework and play with my self-study teacher. After checking my homework, I tightened my eyes and looked around my home. I didn't finish my homework. I finally got angry. I didn't even finish it. Today, I brought a board with a width of 30 cm and a thickness of 2 mm to my memory teacher. I said, "Let's spread our hands together and cover the pain with our hands. Let's open our hands with tears. I dare to shine in front of the exhibitors. What are you doing in this class? " The class said, "Just hold the teacher's ear." My hand was red and swollen, and the teacher hit me hard. I finally began to cry. The teacher kicked my feet as I did. I knelt on the platform. I picked up my bow fan and gave me a few blows. I wrote down the teacher's work and told my family that my father beat me with a whip. I dare to sit. Oh, I wish I hadn't said that.

3. Hello article 1: My mother's hand reminds me of my mother's hand when I was a child. I always meet with one difficult support after another. With her warm hand, I gently dried the tears on my face. Hours later, my mother's hand was warm and kind, full of infinite help and encouragement.

I remember when I was in primary school, my mother sent me to and from school with hard-working hands every day. How many times have I repeated it? My mother didn't complain at all. When I came home from school, my mother found out the typo I had ambushed in the text with hard-working hands. Every day, my mother never stops. Those are never-ending hands, full of hard-working hands. No matter how it changes, what remains unchanged is that the big hand always holds the small hand and conveys selfless love.

My mother has a pair of hands that are neither too big nor too small. There are some wrinkles on her hands, but in my heart, her hands are the most beautiful. Mother has a pair of hands that are neither too big nor too small, and there are some wrinkles on her hands, but her hands are the most beautiful in my heart.

Mom's hand is warm. I remember once, at night, I was sick, my temperature was 38 degrees, and my mother didn't fall asleep all night.

I was sweating, she wiped my sweat, I opened the quilt and she covered it for me. The next day, the fever didn't go down. At noon, my mother and I went to the hospital to see a doctor. The doctor said to take some medicine and give some liquid.

Mother was relieved after listening to the doctor's words. Mom's hands are hardworking hands.

Once, my flowers withered, and my mother replaced the old clods with new mud with a shovel. Then fertilize and finally water.

Give it careful cultivation to revive the withered flowers in my family. My mother said to me, "You water and fertilize too much, and the flowers are withered." .

My mother's hand gave me warmth and care. Chapter 3: In the world of mother's hands, there are industrious hands, lazy hands, rich hands, dexterous hands and Qian Qian's 10,000 hands, each with its own characteristics. Let me introduce my mother's hand.

Mother has a pair of hardworking hands. Every time the house is in a mess, my mother puts on waterproof red clothes and pulls my mother around, jumping up and down like a yangko.

In a short time, the house will become clean, tidy and bright, like a newly renovated new house, emitting a charming fragrance. Mom has warm hands.

Every time I am sad, my mother will touch my cheek with her warm hand, gently wipe away my tears, comfort me, and make me no longer sad and cry. Mother has a pair of dexterous hands.

In winter, my mother knitted a warm sweater for me with her dexterous hands. Mend my clothes carefully.

Mom, for me and our family, your hands are covered with calluses. I will let you enjoy it when I grow up. I love my mother's warm and hardworking hands.

Mother has a gentle face, a pair of curved eyebrows and bright eyes, while he has a pair of magical and diligent hands. My mother's hands are very dexterous. A few ordinary chopsticks can be turned into a cube, and a bundle of ordinary wool can soon be turned into a soft and beautiful sweater. The dishes cooked by my mother are delicious. Looking at several ordinary vegetables, they can all become delicious dishes after being fried by my mother.

My mother's hands are very diligent, and she is not idle every day. Sweep the floor, sweep the floor, wash clothes and wash dishes.

In addition to these chores, my mother has to go to work to collect money every day, because my mother's hardworking hands make our family so happy. My mother's hands are also full of love for me. I don't know how many summer nights, my mother fanned me, brought me cold, and drove away mosquitoes all night. On winter nights, I don't know how many times my mother got up at night to cover me with a quilt and give me send warm ... I don't know that the number of times I got sick has decreased. It was my mother who brought me water, took medicine and took good care of me with her warm hands, and my illness got better. ...

Chapter 5: Mother's Hands Mother has a pair of delicate and smooth hands, but with the growth of age, her hands are not so delicate and smooth. My mother's hands have cooked delicious meals for me countless times. When I fell on my bike, they helped me up and comforted me. When I catch a cold, they are always busy preparing meals and taking them to the hospital.

Once, I was hospitalized with a fever. My mother took care of me at the bedside for three days and nights. The doctor said that I need nutrition supplements. My mother braved the heavy snow and came home from the hospital to cook for me. I'm lying in the hospital. I'm worried about my mother.

My mother brought delicious rice, but because I forgot to wear gloves, I touched my mother's hand, which was cold and cold, and then I looked at the rice cooked by my mother, which was hot. Suddenly, my eyes filled with tears.

My mother's hands are not so delicate and smooth. It is because she cares, protects and takes care of me that my mother's hands become like that. Whenever I look at these hands, I seem to see my growing process.

Chapter 6: Mother's hands are warm hands. I don't know how many times these hands have hugged me and fed me. These hands always give me care and encouragement when I need help most, and always pull me up when I go into the abyss for further study; These hands always comfort me gently when I am sick and have a fever, and always pull me up carefully when I fall; It was these white and tender hands that brought me up with great pains; It is this weather-beaten hand that gives me love and care. One night, I suddenly had a stomachache. My mother rushed me to the hospital and looked at me intently. She didn't sleep a wink for me. She held my trembling hand tightly and gave me confidence, but her own hand was shaking. These hands are so ordinary, but they are so extraordinary. My mother's hands are always strict. These hands always make mistakes with me. These hands taught me the truth of being a man and corrected my carelessness; It is these hands that stand up to protect my safety when I am in danger; The same hand again. She was forced to learn to cook for me, but I don't know how much trauma she paid for it. I don't know how much these beautiful hands have paid for me. These smooth hands contain all her love for me when she was a child.

The following is an example of an essay "Love on the Back of the Hand" describing maternal love, for reference only.

muffler

A drop of water can reflect the brilliance of the sun, and many nuances in life can reveal gentle maternal love.

Mom has a habit, a family-sized dress, which is stacked in different categories when the seasons change in spring and summer. That day, she packed her clothes as usual, and I was lying on the sofa reading an old magazine. In the afternoon, the warm sunshine shines in, and a bunch of pure white gardenias on the coffee table exudes a faint fragrance. "Look, Wang Hao, there are many handkerchiefs here!" My mother suddenly turned to me and said that she seemed very excited.

"handkerchief?" I asked.

"Do you remember these handkerchiefs? It's been here for over ten years. Look, this blue one, remember? When you were four years old, I used to pin him on your coat and wipe your sweat. I watched you run in front of me, and your handkerchief shook like a flower Hu Die! " Mother talked aimlessly, without looking at me, completely immersed in happy memories. I listened quietly and said nothing. I can't talk to my mother-because I don't remember anything.

"There is this piece of blue and white, which was specially made when you were 10 years old. It was printed with the words-'10 Happy birthday to my beloved son Wang Hao'. Alas, in a blink of an eye. " She sighed softly and turned to me, but her loving eyes overwhelmed me. How I wish I could remember these past events, even if they are vague and fragmentary! I can't imagine why my mother collected the past so carefully and told me everything like a treasure. Doesn't she always complain that she has a bad memory when she is old? I admit, I completely forgot the story of the handkerchief and threw it in the corner of my memory. In addition, handkerchiefs are out of fashion now, and they are replaced by paper towels. When you sweat, take out one, rub it gently, it has a good texture and a faint aroma, and then throw it away casually. How convenient. So naturally, the handkerchief was unconsciously forgotten. If my mother hadn't mentioned it unintentionally, I really couldn't remember that these handkerchiefs once belonged to me. My mind easily accepts new things and forgets some things, including the most basic and true love. My mother, however, is a collector of years, always walking behind me, quietly picking up my missing mood and initial innocence.

I felt my eyes a little wet and whispered, "Mom, how do you remember so much?" Mother was silent for a while before answering, "How could I not remember?" She seems to be talking to herself. My tears fell quietly. Yeah, how could you not remember?

Because I love you, I remember.

5. "Mother's Hand" 300-word composition (narrative+description) mother's hand

In the world of hands, there are petite hands, lazy hands, rich hands and dexterous hands ... but I wrote about my mother's hardworking hands.

Her hands are not that big. Long-term labor has made the cocoon skin climb on her fingers, and a layer of light black skin has grown on the back of her hand.

Every day before dawn, my mother's hands have already started to work, busy making breakfast, then cleaning the yard, feeding the livestock at home, and then working in the fields with my father. At night, when the moon is high, my mother's hands are still working: busy washing clothes, cooking and checking homework. In short, my mother's hands have been working.

Mother's hands are hardworking and full of maternal love.

I remember a cold winter afternoon. I am doing my homework and my mother is doing needlework. My hands are shaking, but it's useless. At this time, my mother came to me and said with concern, "Is it cold?" She gently put my hand in hers, and suddenly, I felt extremely warm. With her encouragement, I finally finished my homework seriously.

Ah! I want to praise, praise mom's hand, and praise you-mom!

6. How to describe the hand that covers the sky? Within reach. Within reach. You can get rid of the disease. Within reach. You can go hand in hand with your peers. You can grow old with your son.

-"Poetry and Drumming" Palm is full of meat. Grandma's hands are rough, like bark.

There are several wounds on it, which are deep and will grow frostbite in winter, and the whole hand is swollen like a radish. Mommy always loves to touch me with these hands, which gently makes me feel a little painful, but it is still very comfortable.

The stem on the back of my father's hand is abrupt and "distinct", and the palm is covered with rough but warm hard cocoons, which is the result of his long-term hard work and the tax he paid for making a living, just as pain is the price of turning a chrysalis into a butterfly. I know that my mother's hands used to be so slender, so smooth and so delicate ... everything was just once. Must it be once? Season after season, year after year, my mother's hands are full of calluses and no longer delicate. Looking at the photos of my mother's girlhood, there is an unspeakable taste.

7. There are several articles about hands. You watch today. Use your hands. You got your first salary and rushed to the mall to buy grandma a hand cream.

Grandma's hands are rough, like bark. There are several wounds on it, which are deep and will grow frostbite in winter, and the whole hand is swollen like a radish.

Mommy always loves to touch me with these hands, which gently makes me feel a little painful, but it is still very comfortable. Grandma often looks at her hand and sighs, "When I was young, how beautiful this hand was."

Ten sharp fingertips, like an onion tube, are very nice. At that time, many young men praised my beautiful hands and said,' This hand belongs to a lady from a big family.

I don't believe it, I think: Grandma should be very beautiful when she was young, and she can reveal her former beauty from her present face, but her hand ... Grandma saw that I didn't believe it, and went on to say, "Really, your grandfather fell in love with my hand." When she said this, she touched her hand and her face rose like a big girl.

"When I was young, I was very beautiful. Many young people like me in this town.

There's a guy in the sesame oil shop. Every time I go to get sesame oil, he always fills it up for me. He gave it to someone else, just half a bottle ... I went to fight, and he kept staring at my hand.

Once, the oil was full and overflowed, and I didn't know ... "Grandma smiled and her eyes sparkled." That guy, it's your grandfather.

He treated me, it is really nothing to say, nothing * * *, has been holding my hand, saying that my hands look good and I can't do rough work. Inside and outside, he is lonely.

He said, I came to enjoy happiness with him, not to suffer. ""but at that time, the family was poor, especially after giving birth to a child. He is the only one who has several mouths to eat.

Hey, he's alone and tired. Your grandfather is a little crafty. He does several jobs a day, which makes him tired ... Oh, I really can't bear to secretly help others wash clothes. That's when my hands got thicker. "

"Your grandfather didn't know at first, thinking what happened to my hand. In the evening, rub my hands.

Later, I didn't know how to tell him. Silently, I didn't speak for several days. I was scared.

Don't be afraid of him beating or scolding, just keep him quiet. But he was stubborn and ignored me for more than half a month. "

"In those days, he was tired and thin, but he still ignored me. I'm also angry and complaining.

Let him think about what he said at the beginning. I didn't do it for him, for this family? Who has such cheap bones and a good life? However, do you have to work hard to wash clothes for others? Ah ... ""Later, guess what? One day, he handed me something, a small bottle of vanishing cream.

Don't underestimate it. It was rare and expensive at that time. He asked me to wipe my hands.

What a fool! Who wiped their hands with such an expensive thing? ""I knew then that he was angry with me and that he ignored me.

Tired and thin, I bought this thing for me. Oh, what a fool. "

"At that time, I was stupid. I didn't know it would expire. Hide, not willing to use.

I didn't use it before your grandfather died. Now, people are old.

Beauty doesn't matter. Anyway, the person who wants to see you has left. ""in fact, enjoyment and pain don't matter. It is the most important thing for a family to be happy together ... "Say that finish, grandma's eyes are full of tears.

Still looking at my hands ... I'm walking on the road with hand cream. Later, I will say to my grandmother, "Don't be reluctant to use this hand cream, it will expire.

However, it doesn't matter if it expires. I'll buy it for you. "My father's hands have been warm since childhood ... I remember one spring when I was a child, my father took me to fly a kite.

I was not very sensible at that time. I run and run on the lawn with my kite, but the kite can't fly high. My father taught me to fly kites again and again with his warm hands, followed me to run back and forth on the lawn, and we bathed in the sun until noon. The kite suddenly floated to the clouds, and I was so anxious that I began to cry. Dad said, "The kite went home for dinner. Wait a minute. "

I was dubious, so I sat on the lawn with my father and played other games. I don't know how long it took, and I'm tired, too. My father's warm hands picked me up and we went home. At that time, I thought my father was a playful person.

In the first grade, my father often stroked my head with warm hands and said to me, "son, you should study hard." I'll buy you anything you need in the study. " I nodded puzzled.

During that time, my father often found time to study with me, taught me to write by hand, and took my little hand to the streets to buy books. I feel that my father cares about me.

I didn't do very well in the final exam of the fourth grade, like a deflated ball, listless. My father raised his big hand and said to me earnestly, "Son, look up at my hand.

Just because a person fails in the exam once does not mean that he will fail in the exam later. The important thing is to learn a lesson, have confidence in yourself and believe that you can do it. "At this point, I think my father's hand is like a road sign.

My father's words inspired me and he gave me strength. Father, cheer me up; It was my father who gave me sunshine; It was my father who helped me find the way forward.

From my father's hand, I read his ardent hope and deep love for his daughter. My heart was touched by the warmth and strength of those hands.

My father's power of attorney makes me warm and happy ... Now, my father's hands are not as smooth as before, leaving the mark of time. Since childhood, those hands are warm, forever, forever ... My father's hands are like an old wine. When the days are squeezed into a continuous line bit by bit, I miss my father more and more, and my feelings become purer and stronger.

As long as I can remember, my mother was sickly, and the burden of life was all on my father's shoulders. My father plowed the fields with his big hands, sowing in summer and harvesting in autumn and winter, and propped up a sky for my sister and me, a sky without rain.

The stem on the back of my father's hand is abrupt and "distinct", and the palm is covered with rough but warm hard cocoons, which is the result of his long-term hard work and the tax he paid for making a living, just as pain is the price of turning a chrysalis into a butterfly.

8. 150-word composition "My Hand" is introduced. I hope it will help you and hope to adopt it.

My hands

I have a pair of capable and lovely little hands. My two little hands are like two flaming maple leaves. The back of my hand is a little yellow, but my palm is white and red. I found my middle finger is very long and my thumb is very big.

Short. My nails are very short, which is the result of frequent pruning. I found that my thumb has only two joints, while other fingers have three joints. My parents often hold my hand to go for a walk and go shopping.

People in different occupations do different things with their hands. For example, teachers use their own hands to correct students' homework, doctors use their own hands to operate on the wounded and sick, PLA uncles use their own hands to defend the motherland against the enemy, builders use their own hands to build tall buildings one after another, and police uncles use their own hands to catch thieves to keep them safe. ...

My little hand has done many good things! One day, my mother and I went to the mall to buy shoes and passed through the underground passage. We met several begging children. I thought to myself, "They are so poor that their clothes are so shabby." So I took out ten dollars from my pocket and gave them. The begging children are very grateful to me. My mother said to me. "Today you did another good thing with your own little hands!"

My little hands sometimes help me make great contributions and sometimes bring me trouble. I must let my little hand do more good deeds.

I have two hands. Although they are very young, they can do many things.

Dressing in the morning, folding the quilt and cleaning the house are inseparable from these hands; Exercise and play are inseparable from these hands; And helping others and working are inseparable from these hands. I use these hands to write beautiful new words that are loved and praised by teachers; I have done good things for others with my hands.

When I grow up, I want to do more things with these hands.

Anyway, this is my hand, a pair of hands that are helpful and can write beautiful words. Do you like it?