What is it like to write about a scene in which a person passes by a beggar?

The following is a sample essay, including a scene in which a person passes by a beggar. You can refer to it. I believe it will be helpful to you:

Article 1: Beggar on the Roadside

I thought again of the beggar who always appeared on the roadside.

He always had yellowish messy hair, which was already shiny and greasy. His face was like a wood carving carved with a carving knife, with clear and sharp outlines and an almost wood carving-like complexion. The clothes on his body were all patched, and one of his stained trouser legs had half of it missing, with a few strips of cloth hanging awkwardly, and he was wearing a pair of worn-out Jiefang shoes. There is always a dirty, slightly fat sack beside him.

He always appears on the side of the road opposite my house. He curls up by the flower pond on the side of the road every day. He is a beggar, but he does not beg for food. He makes a living by picking up garbage. At dawn, he would wander around the streets, picking up leftovers from the food stalls nearby to satisfy his hunger, and then return to the flower pond to sleep. Sometimes his eyes are a little dull, he looks at everyone passing by quietly, and then he mumbles to himself or even gets emotional. More of the latter.

I learned some things about him from the women who always liked to chat. I heard that he was originally an official, and his life was so good that people would envy him. Later, he was exposed for corruption and was kicked out of the unit. After his wife found out about this, she ran away with others soon, leaving him alone. Since I had no shame to take up other jobs and had no income, my days became poorer and poorer. That’s what it is now. At first I was a little disgusted with his character, but then I saw a group of women coming back from shopping and pointing at him - "Oh, what a sin!" "He really deserves it!" "Is he here? Question!" After speaking, he pointed to his temple. Hearing discussions like this, I kind of sympathize with him. At the same time, I also realized a truth - if there is anything in this world that spreads faster than the Internet and viruses, it must be their mouths.

The last time I saw him was in winter. He was wearing very thin clothes, but he was still curled up by the flower pond so quietly. Suddenly he stood up and walked quickly to the back door of the food stall. Turns out he just wanted the leftovers. But the fat boss scolded him loudly and wanted to drive him away. He didn't leave, but still stared at the meals. The boss started scolding him and driving him away with a broom. Seeing this, my mother dragged me upstairs hard, and then I heard men's roars, women's screams and the sound of heavy objects hitting the ground.

The next day, I only saw a pool of blood on the ground. The beggar was never seen again.

Part 2: Beggars on the Roadside

Today, Father Sun hid in the clouds. The autumn wind is blowing outside, making people feel a bit cool. Dad suggested walking to the square to play.

There are people coming and going on both sides of the road, and there is a constant stream of traffic on the driveway. Some of the shops on both sides of the street have National Day promotion posters on their windows.

While walking, I found a group of people surrounding the door of the Agricultural Bank of China. I took a closer look and saw a woman in her thirties sitting on the ground with a four or five-year-old child in her arms. Her hair was loose and her clothes were dirty. She was wearing a pair of black trousers and a pair of torn slippers on her feet. The child was eating eggs given by passers-by with his eyes closed tightly, as if he was not feeling well. Passers-by coming and going, some stopped to glance at them and turned away, and some threw them a coin...

Some people nearby were talking: "Nowadays, there are more fake beggars than real ones. I can’t tell whether it’s true or false.”

“Look at her, she’s so young and capable, she can always make some money to eat,” an aunt said, pointing.

I held my father's hand and whispered, "This kid is so pitiful." My father took out ten yuan from his pocket and gave it to me. I quickly walked to the beggar and handed it to her. She nodded and muttered: "Thank you, thank you..."

Mom looked at us and said, "Let's go.

In fact, although they deserve our sympathy, the lives of many beggars are not as bad as we imagine. Many reports say that most beggars are fake and work in groups. "

When I heard this, I thought a lot. What they did not only affected the traffic, but also affected the appearance of the city. A person who has hands and feet, deliberately does not work, and wants money from others. Life, then I will never pity them again. I hope the relevant departments will strictly manage them so that there will be no real poor people in the world.

Part 3: Me and the Tall Beggar

A few days ago, March 15th was the Day to Learn from Lei Feng. When it comes to Learning from Lei Feng Day, Mao Zedong wrote the inscription "To Comrade Lei Feng" in the "Renmin Daily". "Study" title. After Mao Zedong and other party and state leaders wrote inscriptions for Lei Feng, the motherland set off an upsurge of learning from Lei Feng. So now, March 15th every year has become the anniversary of learning from Lei Feng.

On this particular day, I was on my way to a cram school when I saw a beggar in ragged clothes and with shaggy hair holding a sack. I slowly walked to the side and distanced myself from him.

As I walked, I saw a few newspapers next to the trash can on the roadside, which contained some bones left by others. I thought to myself: Today is the day to learn from Lei Feng. I should do good things like Lei Feng. If I pick up the garbage and throw it into the trash can, it will be a good thing. But...

After that. After some mental struggle, I finally decided that instead of picking up the trash, I could do other good things anyway! As I was thinking about it, I saw a shocking scene. The beggar picked up the trash. He first went to the trash can and looked through it to see if there were any bottles or cans. If he saw any, he closed the lid of the trash can. At this time, the beggar saw it. I threw the garbage into the trash can without thinking.

I saw it. At that moment, I felt that I was so small and the beggar was so tall. , but their hearts are dirty, some people are dirty on the outside, but have noble moral character in their hearts.

On the way to the cram school, I learned an important philosophy in life, "A person cannot be judged by his appearance. "It cannot be measured." Although I have known the meaning of this famous saying for a long time, I only know its true meaning today.

Part 4: The Glory of the "Beggars"

The word "glory" is what everyone dreams of, including beggars. They also have their own glory. The acquisition of this "glory" is that joy and happy smile.

It is common to see beggars everywhere, some kneeling on the ground motionless, and some just saying thank you to everyone I pass. But now, I don’t give them money. They ignored him. “They are not short of hands and feet, they can work in restaurants! Even if it costs seven or eight hundred, it's still better than asking for money on the street. "I couldn't stand this phenomenon, so I stopped giving it to them. It wasn't until later that a person appeared and I saw a "beggar" who made money by himself. I truly understood the word "glory".

That day, I was walking on the street with a bottle of mineral water that I had drunk more than half of. Suddenly, a pair of big rough hands were placed in front of me. I thought it was a beggar and was about to walk away, but he suddenly spoke: "Can you give me your mineral water bottle? I'll help you take these things home. "I was stunned, looking at his weather-beaten but smiling face, and then at the big bag of waste paper and bottles beside him. I nodded and gave them to him. In fact, those things in my hand meant a lot to me. It wasn't heavy, but when I wanted him to get the bottle with dignity, I didn't hesitate. Later, I saw him selling the waste paper, and saw him bargaining with the collector and her face. I was stunned when I saw that bright smile on my face, "This is the real beggar!" At that moment, I saw his greatness and my insignificance. "I gently wiped away the tears from the corners of my eyes and walked away silently.

In fact, this is also a kind of labor, a fruit truly obtained with one's own sweat. Thinking of this, I couldn't help but laugh.

I want to thank him, it was him who made me recognize the word "glory" again. It was also him who "reborn" me, allowing me to find my lost self forever.

Part 5: Begging

After breakfast, I looked at my watch out of habit and was shocked to find that it was only 6:47! I was a little complacent. This was an unprecedented historical record. Maybe my classmates thought they were seeing aliens when they saw me! I was narcissistically intoxicated in the "honeypot", embarked on the clean intestinal path, and greedily enjoyed the fragrance of the morning.

Just at the intersection, I saw a picture of miserable life.

A disheveled mother and two disheveled children. The eldest child is about seven or eight years old, and the younger one is about five or six years old. They are old enough to go to school, but they just keep kneeling there, so they may not have been to school. The mother and son acted out scenes of life there.

I couldn't help but stop.

Maybe they don’t have a home anymore. They only have a few ancient trees to keep them company, that’s all. And their family property is the two black vest bags behind them.

I touched my pocket reflexively.

At this time, a middle-aged man who looked like a boss walked over. The mother humbly begged for alms, weeping like rain. The middle-aged man was moved and gave her 50 yuan. She burst into tears and took the note with trembling hands.

Probably, a poor life means sunny days and rainy days, right? !

After the middle-aged man left, I wanted to give her the few dollars I had, but I saw a side of her that few people knew about.

"Son, making money is not easy. It's not easy to meet such a rich man, so you have to learn how to give him a try!" She taught her son "seriously and thoughtfully".

"But we were not really abandoned by our father!"

My youngest son's words gave me a pang in my heart and made me stop what I wanted to do.

"Idiot! This is called skill, do you understand?" The mother patted her son's head, then looked around and said, "Keep your voice down, don't let others hear."

I stopped my hand, looked at her with disdain, and quickly left this hypocritical and dirty place.

Part 6: Beggar

The beggar gave me inspiration. You must feel strange when you see this title! What inspiration can a poor beggar teach me? Let me tell you, this happened one day during the summer vacation.

That day, the sky was clear and cloudless. I took fifty yuan and went to Weimin Supermarket to buy daily necessities. After I walked for a while, I saw a beggar. He was wearing shabby and old clothes and had a small basin in front of him. He stretched his hands slightly forward and said to me in a pleading tone: "Kid, give me some money!" I thought to myself: Why should I give it to you? Maybe they are here to defraud me of money. Suddenly the fifty yuan in my hand was lost. I thought again: That’s fifty yuan! Just when I was extremely anxious, the beggar touched me, and I saw that the fifty yuan in his hand seemed to be mine. At this time, he said to me: "Kid, you have lost your money. You must take it back next time." At that time, I was moved to tears by his words. After I bought the things, I immediately put away the remaining money. I gave him the four or five yuan I paid.

Chapter 7: Beggar

The harsh winter has just begun, and the biting cold wind blows mercilessly to every corner. My parents were not at home that day, but I couldn't go hungry just because my parents were not at home, so I took ten yuan with me and planned to go to the store to buy a pack of instant noodles.

I wore a thick down jacket and wrapped myself tightly. Even so, you can still feel the chill while walking on the street.

I moved slowly, and suddenly, I felt that my feet were a lot heavier. I looked down and saw a man with almost gray hair, ragged clothes, and his whole body was extremely dirty. I knew from her slurred accent that she was asking for money from me.

Suddenly, my heart softened. Looking at his pitiful look, I put my hand into the pocket containing the money. However, what my mother once said echoed clearly in my ears: Child, do you know? Some beggars cannot be pitied. They may go begging during the day, but they may go somewhere to enjoy themselves at night.

My sympathy for the beggar was diluted by a few words from my mother. Thinking of my love being wasted in vain by a beggar, I became angry.

I looked at the beggar as if I were seeing a criminal. In my opinion at the time, she was a person full of evil in her heart. I walked faster towards the store, not wanting to look back.

I bought two packs of instant noodles and returned along the original route. I thought the beggar had left, but unexpectedly, she was still here looking pitifully at every pedestrian passing by. The beggar mother held her child in her arms and kept comforting her child: "Don't cry, we will have food in a while!"

This short sentence just happened to me. Hearing this, I froze there for a moment, looking at the dirty face of the beggar’s mother. I walked forward without thinking and stuffed two packs of instant noodles

and all the money I had on me into the beggar’s face. Mother.

I didn’t dare to look into her eyes, so I hurriedly lowered my head and walked away in despair...

Part 8: Beggar

I am in rags. Holding a broken bowl in hand, walking on every street in the city, squatting in every corner of the city, waiting for someone with good intentions. People who pitied me and despised me generously gave me a helping hand. I just bow my head, grovel, and accept their charity. Whether they pity me or despise me, I am just a beggar, and I have to rely on them to support me; I cannot change their attitude, I can only bow my head and admit my humble status; I only care about wandering, wandering, wherever I go , the sky there is my quilt, the ground there is my bed, and the owners there are my food, clothing, and parents.

I have been to a glorious restaurant, and the cold wind was blowing. I was wearing a shabby military coat, which was still faded, and the people who came out of the restaurant were either straight suits or mink coats. I know they are either rich or noble. Hehe, it seems that I will gain a lot today. However, my approach touched the woman's vocal cords, and her screams made me sluggish. The man did not dare to touch me for fear of getting his hands dirty, so he only stood by the woman's side and yelled a few words at me. I was frightened and ran away in a hurry. Rich people are too noble to allow people like me to get close to them.

I should have some economic sense. The city is a bustling place with as many people as ants. Even if they don't give me one yuan or two, the sum of ten cents and two cents is enough for me to spend several days. But what I saw was a playing card, with no expression, only coldness. I begged from many people, but they were all in a hurry and had no time to pay attention to me. Disappointed, standing in the middle of the street. Seeing people coming and going, everyone is like an ant in a hot nest, and I am the only one left wandering around in the whole world. Shake the wanderer like a stone, let's go and cool down.

Today I gained nothing, was penniless, wandered slowly, and unknowingly ended up in a slum. The people here are similar to me, equally poor. But they live by their own labor. You can see "hope" in their eyes - very realistic - everyone hopes that the God of Wealth will love him. But in reality, how many people can move out of the ghetto? I don't expect to get help here. People living here are struggling to survive. They can't even take care of themselves, let alone helping others. I don't like staying here either. Although my status is equal, I am still humble.

I used to be not a beggar, I also had the ability to work, but I hated the rush day after day, and I also hated the cold face; the God of Wealth also didn’t take pity on me, so I couldn’t enjoy the rich people Noble, but fortunately I can still feel the heat and cold. Am I willing to become a beggar? No, I just long for freedom, but I can't live without money.