Excerpts from middle school students' compositions

Excerpts from Middle School Students' Compositions (1)

Camouflage one's face

During the long two-month summer vacation, interesting things naturally happened. Just like me, I learned to draw in this summer vacation, that is, during these two months, I made many intimate friends.

There are "Wang Yudi" awei-Internet terms like "Ami Muyou" and "Awesome" often pop up, and "Little Dragon Girl" Xiao Ting-although she smiles sweetly, she shows her "Shuanglong pliers" from time to time, and when this trick comes out, she will die.

There are at least 50 or 60 people in all, except some people who don't have frequent contact. This lineup alone is enough to stir up the whole city.

During this period, many interesting things happened to us, and the most impressive thing was the interesting thing of going out to sketch on the last day.

Early in the morning, everyone followed the morning light from Zhao Hui to their destination, but later, due to the weather, location and other reasons, we were forced to move around "positions", and the worst thing was to walk with heavy painting tools on our backs.

Finally, we set our destination at the gate of Zengcheng Primary School to sketch, but because it was the last day, the weather was extremely hot, and no one was interested in painting.

So, after painting for a while, we made a hasty decision, and everyone decided to have some fun. In the end, everyone unanimously passed the color war-forcibly coloring each other's faces with pigments, and finally judging the strangest faces.

When the war broke out, everyone was on the alert around, and the whole room was silent. At this time, the air seems to be still. I don't know how long it took, and I said, "Go!" Rush out of the crowd.

As soon as this statement came out, the scene was immediately chaotic and everyone fell into a scuffle. I first took out the red paint and ran to awei to paint it, calling it "Guan Gong".

He said angrily, "TMD, tigers are not arrogant. Do you think I have Doraemon?"

Then he took out the green paint to get back at me. I was chased by him into a small well and then dumped him. I played along and "attacked" Xiao Jing. Unexpectedly, she didn't notice. Just when I was secretly pleased, Xiao Ting, the "Little Dragon Girl", appeared. I only heard laughter rushing out of her vocal cords, and suddenly a "hilly area" appeared in my brow.

"no!" She exposed his plot, "sneak attack, no, attack me." Knowing that I was defeated by her, I started running, but I couldn't escape from the magic hand in the end. I said sadly, "This is beyond my power."

"ah!" "Who did this to me?" "Don't run!" The sketch scene was full of laughter and laughter. After a big battle, everyone's face turned into "camouflage", and Xiao Jing finally won the title of "the weirdest in the audience".

As the saying goes, "all good things must come to an end". Suddenly, the new semester is coming, and we have to say hello.

But those faces like camouflage clothes still appear in front of my eyes and will never fade.

Excerpts from Middle School Students' Compositions (2)

Life makes me so beautiful.

SARS is coming, and we are not afraid. Bird flu is coming, and we are not afraid. We are not afraid of snowstorms. Because we are a family, a family that loves each other, one side is in trouble, and 56 brothers and sisters are United, so what are we afraid of! Now the earthquake has come, and an earthquake bigger than the Tangshan earthquake has come, with countless casualties. Looking at innocent smiling faces, fresh lives left us in an instant. My tears are flowing and my heart is hurting. I don't know what to do and how to help them. We can do nothing but donate blood, money, things and pray for them, really.

Life is so fragile, he is really fragile. One second ago, you were still providing warmth to the world, but now, the earth is guarding you with its warm body and your cold body. 1 10 hours of 28800 life, time is so expensive, our life becomes so cheap in front of time, but we can't do anything, really can't do anything.

Is there nothing we can do? Is there really nothing you can do? Don't! When the earthquake came, the five children guarded by Du Zhengxiang, the life wall built by parents for their daughters, Premier Wen's waiting for five days and five nights, the general secretary's grandfather coming to see you later, and so on, let us see that being strong makes life so beautiful.

We should be proud of our country when we are immersed in grief. A columnist article published on the Financial Times website said, "Four hours after the incident, the Prime Minister personally went to the front to organize disaster relief. A well-trained rescue team and a large number of military forces have been put into the front line for disaster relief, and a large amount of relief materials and money are pouring into the Wenchuan epicenter. Since the incident, the mainstream media has not relaxed at all. You can see the first report of the disaster all night, and at the same time open various disaster relief hotlines and donation channels in time to provide a route for all those who are willing to alleviate the disaster. "

This is my country, this is our country! A dragon in the East-China! ! A country worthy of our efforts and rewards, a United and powerful nation. One does not bow to fate, one side is in trouble, and all sides support it! China, stick together! ! !

Excerpts from Middle School Students' Compositions (3)

Me and the red scarf

When I was in kindergarten, I saw my brother and sister wearing a triangle on their chests. I asked my mother curiously what it was. Why do they wear them on their chests every day and I don't?

Mother smiled and said, "This is a red scarf, which is the symbol of the Young Pioneers. You will know when you go to elementary school. "

I hope, hope, finally look forward to this day. My elder sister put a bright red scarf on me and told me to study hard. I envy myself.

I know that the red scarf is a corner of the red flag, and it is also dyed red by revolutionary martyrs with blood. I must take good care of it.

The red scarf has become my good friend and partner, and I wear it every day at school. I feel proud, proud, happy and beautiful in it. I am much more sensible than before, and I study harder. The red scarf has always inspired me to be a good boy at home and a good student at school.

One day, my mother and I were playing in the street. I am playing with a beautiful coat in my hand. A little brother leaned in and tried to grab my gyro. His mother scolded him severely and his little brother cried loudly. At this moment, I seem to hear the red scarf on my chest saying to me, "Just give it to him." I quickly gave that beautiful top to my little brother. He stopped crying and said thank you to me happily. My mother and I both laughed. My mother praised me for doing the right thing, and the red scarf on my chest became more colorful. Although my beloved gyro is gone, my heart is full of joy because I did a good thing. I will do this again in the future, do more things to help others and add luster to the red scarf.

The red scarf is my pride. I am proud of my red scarf.

Excerpts from Middle School Students' Compositions (4)

I love my family.

What is home? It is a sail struggling in the storm and a long-awaited haven; It is a wanderer in a foreign land, and a full moon hangs high in the sky; Or in the ancient battlefield, bloody soldiers, holding combat barrels and waving whips, went straight to their long-awaited "paradise"?

Since ancient times, our family has entrusted us with too many emotions. Speaking of home, that kind of warmth and warmth, that kind of sense of belonging and security, arises spontaneously! In my pen, home is always the same color, and those frozen memories will linger no matter when and where.

In fact, home gives me the most primitive feeling, just like a giant umbrella, which holds up a blue sky for me. But under the giant umbrella, the sweat fountain of struggle, the blood rain of sacrifice, the flying white hair, the vicissitudes of life, the wrinkles on the face and the rickety back are still vivid.

mother

My mother always thought that she was so sacred-as tough as a pine tree, as unyielding as a plum blossom, as broad as the earth, as selfless as a silkworm, as warm as the sun, and she was transformed by me. I really don't know if I exist because of my mother, or if I exist, I can turn her into a dream, just like The Duke of Zhou Dreams of Butterfly. If Xu is true, Xu Ruo is also true.

This is my most primitive feeling about my mother, such as clear spring water flowing slowly through a mountain stream and clouds floating quietly in the sky without any impurities. So in real life, after rational thinking, what kind of mother will I write?

Speaking of my mother, I can't help falling into the dusk of my childhood memories, but if I think about it carefully, I just feel like some fragmentary puzzles, incomplete.

I only remember that when I was a child, my mother worked in an ink factory for six yuan a day, not to mention going out early and coming home late every day. Every day after school, I will go to the factory not very close to the school to help with odd jobs. The color inside the factory always seems to be the same gray, and even the uneven ground smells of ink from time to time. Looking back now, it seems to be the taste of childhood. The timidity of entering the factory, the joy of going home, and the seemingly passing wild flowers are all open to me. Accompanying my mother is the playground of my childhood and the paradise in my memory.

Childhood is drifting away, and it seems to be a precocious teenager. When I was in junior high school, my home was far from school and I went home almost once a week. Recalling my four-year journey, wildflowers, fish, broken bridges, streams and sunset are still clearly visible. Every time I go home, from a distance, I will see a hazy shadow standing in front of my house, watching from a distance. Sunset and the afterglow of sunset guide the road and extend to the distance ... warm pictures, such as beautiful silhouettes, will always be fixed in my heart.

In that sealed memory, my mother will always be so young and beautiful, just like the evergreen tree in front of the door, and will never be old. I remember the last time I went home, I haven't seen you for half a year. Wrinkles covered her chapped skin. The once beautiful Scud is now like a shrinking weed. Is it because I have neglected it, or "time makes people old"? I don't know anymore.

father

Speaking of my father, my heart seems a little heavy. I always feel that he is not beautiful in speech and clumsy in doing things. In front of me and my brother, he always likes to "talk loudly" and move out a lot of "philosophy of life", which is endless. If you add the word "serious" to him, you can better describe him. In short, I always feel depressed when I get along with him.

I remember the fifth grade in primary school. On that day, heavy snow and falling snowflakes wrapped the earth tightly, and the cold wind blew wantonly in this big ice room. Accompanied by a few friends, I got back my report card with poor grades. My mother didn't say anything but encouraged me, but I still looked blank. My father is not so accommodating. He took the report card I handed him and looked serious. I just hung my head and didn't dare to look him in the face. His anger, like lava from a volcano, suddenly erupted. First he crumpled up his report card and threw it at me, then he gave me a scolding. Maybe I didn't respond, and my angry eyes grew longer and longer, so he pulled out the belt tied to his body and whipped it. I cried and got under the table, huddled up, my mother was pulling my father hard, and the cold wind was still blowing outside. ...

In my memory, this time my father hit me the hardest. Although he hasn't hit me since junior high school, that kind of fear lingers in my heart and makes me instinctively reject him in my usual life. Looking back now, I just feel that I didn't fully understand him.

Remember six months ago, I accompanied you to Wuhan for car inspection. You said it was expensive to stay in a hotel and you were afraid that your car would be stolen, so we were going to sleep on the street for one night. It's getting dark and the street lamp is on. I want to go to the internet cafe all night. You may be worried about my safety. After thinking for a long time, you finally agreed to my request. But the next morning, I didn't show up on time. You go to the internet cafe on the street and go door to door. I was anxious for half an hour and suddenly appeared in front of you. I saw you angry at me and talking about something. When you rushed in front of me, you suddenly took off your hat and threw it on the ground. You were going to hit me with your hand, but you controlled it and scolded me. I was stunned by this sudden scene, and everything was spinning. ...

"I am such an adult, maybe I will lose it again. Is it worth it? " When I got home, I thought.

Later, in a TV series, I occasionally saw such a group of pictures: a girl came home late at night, and her father looked for her for a long time and almost called the police. When the girl suddenly appeared in front of him, what I didn't expect was that her father slapped her hard, and then they hugged each other and cried ... I was shocked by this picture. Looking back now, I just feel too smart.

younger brother

Speaking of my younger brother, my mind is full of childhood memories. Catch lobsters in rice fields and catch the sunset on the western hills in the scorching sun; Together in the mud, played a mud battle; Design traps together to bully the little A next door; Catch fish together in the water until your hands and feet are white; Chasing the sunset in the field together until you are tired and tired, lying on the ridge of the field, let the warm spring breeze blow your childish face ... but occasionally you will blush and have a thick neck because of a candy, and you will once fight for your "private property". But for the unspeakable feelings of childhood, such as a meaningful and rhyming picture, I have endless aftertaste.

Flying memories, lost childhood, and those yellowed photos all have our shadow. The beauty of childhood, because you and I exist together.

label

Now, I have been studying in other places, and I usually gather less and leave more. Even in winter and summer vacations, it may be difficult to go back. I wonder if my dog has grown up. I remember when I first came here, it was still a little guy. I wonder if the saplings in front of the door have grown taller. I went home last time and planted them with my mother. I don't know how many small fruits the peach tree has produced this year, but I am sure that my father is greedy again. I don't know if my ailing grandmother is in good health now, but last time my brother told me that she was sent to the hospital in the town again. I don't know, my mother's hair has been dyed white by years; I don't know if my father still eats porridge for three meals because of stomach trouble; I don't know ...

I love my family!

Excerpts from Middle School Students' Compositions (5)

flowery

Smile like a flower, true feelings like a flower, hope like a flower, life like a flower,

Everyone has his favorite flowers, and everyone has many reasons to be kind to himself and condense his life into lasting fragrance in the long river of time. The moment it blooms, it will attract all eyes.

Flowers are so weak, no matter how beautiful or gorgeous, they still can't stand the cold rain and wind at night. Chunhong quickly thanked her, leaving only sadness.

Flowers are beautiful soldiers. () Although I am getting younger and fatter in the storm, I never bow my head after all.

Life is the same, like a delicate glass, which can't stand the impact of natural and man-made disasters and breaks into a bright light. Every piece is a transparent heart. Life is often like a epiphyllum. With years of tears and sweat, mixed with painstaking efforts, there will be a moment to laugh at the world.

In today's world, fewer and fewer people love flowers. When people are running for a living, they can't even grasp their own life. Who will listen to Hua?

However, restless city, please don't forget that this world is a mirage. Everything is like flowers, and flowers are like everything. Therefore, the Buddha touched the flowers and Ye Jiaxiao; This smile is the world.

This is a beautiful article full of philosophy. If you line her up, she is a poem. If you give her music, she is a song. The whole article has both emotion and philosophy, which can be described as sentence analysis and word flashing. We often say that life is like a poem and a song, but life is like a flower. Everyone likes flowers. Everyone likes different flowers. There are flowers between people, and flowers are the same as people. A city has a city flower and a country has a national flower. So, what flowers does a person have? Some branches stand proudly and endure forever; Some are in full bloom, and some are short-lived. "Everyone has many reasons to be kind to himself and condense his life into lasting fragrance in the long river of time. The moment it blooms, it will attract all eyes. " "This world is a mirage. Everything is like flowers, and flowers are like everything. Therefore, the Buddha touched the flowers and Ye Jiaxiao; This smile is the whole world. "

Excerpts from Middle School Students' Compositions (6)

My teacher

If you want to say the most respected teacher, it must be Mr Hu Zhe. I thank the sunshine, which brings me warmth; I thank the clear spring, which brings me sweetness; I am even more grateful to my writing teacher, who brought me an encouraging smile.

"Hang it all! Nonsense! " As soon as you heard this familiar word, you knew that our writing teacher had come.

My writing teacher's name is Hu Zhe. She is my writing teacher in normal school. He is neither tall nor young, but his hair is half white. He is also very careless about his clothes. He always wears blue cloth all the year round, which is in sharp contrast with other teachers. The most unforgettable thing is that he wears a pair of deep myopia glasses on his broad face and those forever deep eyes behind the glasses. His image is not good-looking, but he loves to laugh. When he smiled, he showed a pair of ugly big teeth, and the wrinkles on his face were folded into arhats. One of his pet phrases is "How dare you".

That time, I don't know whether it was a feeling in my heart or a whim. I wrote an essay "When I am homesick". As a result, I was read by him in front of the whole class. He also said that this is a masterpiece with true feelings and originality, which attracted the envy of his classmates. I don't know which classmate is jealous, and secretly said, "Hum! This is plagiarism! " Unexpectedly, this sentence slipped into his ear. He glared at him and casually said, "How outrageous! Why don't you copy an article for me to see? " Then he looked at me, and his ugly smile came again: "Tell me, how did you write this composition?" Looking at the trusting eyes and smile on the teacher's face, I calmly expressed my homesickness since I moved in. The classroom was quiet, the students listened quietly, and the teacher seemed very excited. He kept nodding, and the smile on his face became more brilliant. The two ugly front teeth also involuntarily revealed their mouths. After I finished, he took the lead in applauding me, and kept saying, "True feelings are meaningful!" It can be said that from then on, I loved writing more, fell in love with Mr. Hu Zhe's class more, and he paid more attention to my writing guidance.

Mr Hu Zhe likes to be angry and out of control. As long as his classmates make unforgivable mistakes, he flies into a rage and his voice can be heard for miles. His face flushed, and then he scolded mercilessly loudly: "What's the matter? Don't listen in class, homework is not completed, affecting the mood in class! Go back and think about it yourself! This is outrageous! How dare you! " In the next lecture, his tone was full of severity and his face was tight. But slowly, his voice softened a lot, his face returned to a smile, and his two front teeth could not help showing. He spoke in more detail, and from time to time he whispered, "Do you understand?" We know that it turns out that he is not really angry, but distracting us. So we answered loudly: "I understand!" He smiled more happily.

Writing teacher, I will always remember your sunny smile.