A 650-word essay on the topic of the story in the photo

『一』《Story in Photos》Excellent composition of 500~700 words

Childhood is an endless song of joy, and every note in the song is jumping with joy The rhythm of childhood; childhood is like colorful bubbles, and every color in the bubbles shines with dreamy light; childhood is a magical online book, and every detail in the book is full of mystery...< /p>

An ordinary photo taken when I was six years old recorded my childhood story and gave me wonderful childhood memories.

It was midsummer, and my sister and I decided to go to the flood control area to see the lotus flowers. "Ah! The lotus is so beautiful." My sister and I were immediately intoxicated by the scenery in front of us. The lotus flowers were like fairies dancing with ribbons, wearing beautiful, charming and dazzling dresses. A gust of wind blew, and the lotus fairy Lowering her head shyly, little sister Huaguduoer was scared of strangers and hid behind Brother Heye.

Seeing the lotus is so beautiful, I couldn't help but walk to the pond and stare at the lotus from time to time. I asked my sister to come over with a wink. My sister understood what I was thinking and followed me to a hidden place. Without thinking, I couldn’t wait to get into the pond. However, I accidentally stepped on a slippery stone and heard a splash. I immediately transformed into a clay monkey. Unexpectedly, not only did I not cry as usual, but I made myself laugh. My sister also laughed out loud. There was nothing I could do about turning into a clay monkey, haha. I was finally able to have a good time, and a splash battle started fiercely. It was full of gunpowder. I launched the challenge first, and the splash splashed all over my sister. Just when I was feeling proud, I was beaten hard without paying attention. Hit hard, you hit me, and I played like this all afternoon. On the way home, the two drowned rats returned home under the gaze of people.

That was my happiest moment.

"II" Essay "Stories in Photos" 650 words

In my photo album, there is a precious family photo that must be very special to my classmates. It's ordinary, but to me, it's extremely precious. This is the only one!

My father is a busy man and often travels for business. He is not at home for all the full moon drinks and family gatherings. He only occasionally eats at home. A meal, but that meal must be very busy, because there is always a phone ringing, which is annoying and even uncomfortable. Sometimes, I feel that it will be quieter when my father is not at home. Composition website home.sanwen8.cn

Dad actually attended my grandpa’s sixtieth birthday party, but I thought it would be just like eating at home, it would be like a ghost. I hugged my dad, but what was unexpected was that my dad turned off his phone. At the banquet, my dad, mom and I all smiled as beautifully as blooming flowers and as colorful as a rainbow. On the eve of the meal, I specially asked my grandpa to do it for me. I took photos of happy moments and beautiful moments as a family. In that photo, the smiles of the three of us were not fake, but every smile was so innocent! I took the photo and enlarged it.

Whenever I think of my father, as long as I take out the photo, that picture will appear in my mind, and I will feel that my father is by my side.

At this moment, I no longer think that *** is a ghost, but that *** is so sweet and beautiful, because he proves that my father is very capable, and I am proud of it!

p>

Time flies, and in the blink of an eye, I have changed from a little girl who loves to cry, to a girl who has ideals and knows how to hide her crystal tears in the depths. In the process of growing up, is it just time that passes? ? Composition

After opening the long-dusted photo album and letting my thoughts flow through it, I finally realized that what has passed most is the cantabile years of my childhood.

Inadvertently, my eyes touched this photo. This is an extremely outstanding old photo that is very precious to me. In the photo, my sister and I stretched our hands into the blue sky to welcome the dazzling sliding fireworks.

Remember, it was the Spring Festival. Due to the needs of my father's work, we have to leave our hometown and our grandparents. When I was a child, I was willful. Whenever I thought about being separated from my friends, I would hide in the hut and cry non-stop. Even during the Spring Festival, I was depressed.

My grandparents knew that this would be the last Spring Festival in their hometown. In order to liven up the family atmosphere, they encouraged my father to buy fireworks. Grandpa actually sang a Peking opera that he had not sung for many years.

I don’t understand why the parting moment is so lively.

My grandparents urged me and my sister to work hard and bring honor to our family, and they even gave each of us a little poem.

Dad set off fireworks and looked at the charming sparks rippling in the air. My sister and I excitedly raised our hands to the sky. At that moment, the camera captured this eternally beautiful moment.

The moment we turned around, I was shocked. The whole family stood there and looked at us. Just watching, the silent air couldn't help but turn into snowflakes. Flying.

From the eyes of my family, I seemed to see the warm river of love; the long ribbon of love; and the hard rock-like hope.

It is true that the years have passed by like a song, but the true feelings and hopes that have been buried in childhood still exist; even if the sea is gone, the affectionate eyes will always be the driving force for me to move forward.

This photo carrying hope not only records my childhood smiling face, but also records the brilliant night sky in my hometown.

Instructor: Li Hongbing

Brief comment: The sentences are sonorous and powerful, there is true feeling between the lines, the structure is compact, and the center is prominent.

It was still raining heavily today, with lightning and thunder, so my parents and I took advantage of the weekend to move out the photos we brought from our home in Yangzhou last time, wipe them off, and tidy them up. Dad Mom suddenly started chatting~~ telling old stories.

To be honest, I haven’t looked at photos for a long time, and suddenly I saw myself in the past. It felt very strange. The smile at that time was innocent. And Canlan, looking at every photo now, seems to be wearing a mask. The feeling when he was a child that he was not afraid of being ugly even if he smiled with missing teeth is no longer there. His father said that it was because there were too many things hidden in his heart. , there are too many secrets, and people’s expressions look fake. Suddenly, I felt a heartache~~ It hit the mark on my heart

I really like the title on the page "It must be a special fate." You can become a family along the way."

In this life, you will meet many people, and these people will accompany you through every step of your life at different times, as if they have made an agreement. , when the point is reached, when the station is reached, then slowly retreat until we never contact each other. Only those who are particularly destined can form a family, have children, and grow old together, like all happy families.

< p> Life is like this endless reincarnation, only then there is hope. I am willing to be buried in the crowd and enjoy the happiness of this reincarnation~

"三" The story in the photo, how to write this essay

Story in Photos Composition

Article 1: Story in Photos

A photo records a story; a photo , tells an experience; a photo evokes a memory; a photo is full of emotions. It is such a small but profound photo, an ordinary yet unusual photo, so worthy of my collection.

My favorite photo was taken on the first day of the first lunar month in 2001 in the living room on the third floor of my new home. It is clearly visible in the photo that I am sitting on the sofa with my cousin, my cousin, my grandparents and my five grandsons. In my hand, I was holding a big apple picked from the plate on the table in front of me. Every time I pull this photo out of my album, the story behind it is still fresh in my mind.

It was the first day of the first lunar month when I was two years old. My grandparents, cousins, uncles and aunts came to my house as guests. While chatting, my father asked me to take a photo with my grandparents, cousins, grandparents, and grandchildren. After knowing where I was sitting, I hurriedly found a reason to ask my father to go to the fourth floor with me first.

When I got to the fourth floor, my father asked me what I wanted to do. I spoke out what was in my heart: "Why don't I sit in the middle?" "Because my cousin is the eldest among you three children, and you and your cousin are both grandsons of your grandparents, so of course you have to sit next to your grandparents." Dad replied road.

"But grandma is so old. If others see it, will she laugh at me?" "You are wrong to think so," my father then taught me earnestly, "How can others laugh at you? Although grandma is old, But she has gone through decades of hardships for our family to be happy today. As the younger generation, we should respect and love her. Without grandma, there would be no dad, and without dad, there would be no you! "I suddenly realized and realized the mistake I had just made. If others see me sitting next to my grandma in the photo, not only will they not make fun of me, but they will think that I am a good child who respects his elders and is caring!

I happily returned to the living room on the third floor, walked briskly to where I was sitting for the photo, took a big apple with respect, and handed it to grandma. Grandma smiled slightly, handed the apple back to me, and said kindly: "Grandma is old and her teeth are no longer useful. Grandma understands the idea of ??a good grandson. It's better for you to eat it!" At this time, Dad shouted: "Look at me, everyone." Come here!" I held the apple left by my grandma in my hand and stared at the camera. There was only a "click" sound, and this beautiful moment remained in the camera forever. After posting the photos, I took them, had them molded, and kept them in a photo album.

A photo contains such a story; a photo makes my mind fly back to ten years ago; a photo gives me an education of love. It is such an ordinary yet extraordinary photo that taught me how to respect and love our elders. Only in this way will our lives become better, our families happier, and our society more harmonious.

Part 2: Stories in Photos

Time is like water, flowing quietly day and night. I have also grown from a little girl who loves to cry to a little girl who knows how to store tears in a notepad.

After putting down the long-dusted photo album, my thoughts began to spin. I caressed each photo, and each photo told a story about me and my childhood. My eyes suddenly stopped on a photo with a yellowish edge, and I laughed happily.

In this photo. There is a little girl wearing a dress and braids, she is crying to the sky, this is me; there is also a big boy who is eating a lollipop and smiling evilly, that is my brother.

I remember it was autumn, and my mother bought me a big and beautiful lollipop from the store. My brother also wanted to eat it, but I wouldn't give it to him, so he got into trouble with me.

He lied to me and said that I could find a bigger and more beautiful lollipop in my mother’s car basket, and whoever got it would belong to whom. I want it so much that I have to go and get it. I was very short at that time and couldn't reach the basket, so I asked my brother to hold the lollipop for me while I moved the stool to dig through my mother's basket.

I didn’t find the lollipop in the car basket. I was about to ask my brother, but when I looked back, he was holding my lollipop and chewing it! I thought he wanted it, but he never gave it to me, so I sat on the ground and cried. I happened to be photographed by my aunt who had just bought a camera.

Seven or eight years have passed since this happened, now think about it. I was really cute at that time. This is the story of what happened in my photos.

Part 3: Stories in Photos

Today, I took out my favorite photo again. Do you know what my favorite photo is? It’s the preschool group photo I took with my kindergartners, because I’m about to leave kindergarten and become a real primary school student.

Every morning, our parents and grandparents send us to kindergarten, where we study, eat and take naps together. When I think about leaving kindergarten and leaving my classmates soon, I feel both happy and reluctant to leave, because we have lived together for so long and don’t want to separate. Seeing the 46 familiar faces in the photo, I thought, 20 years later, some of us will go to college and some will join the workforce. I wonder where we will be in another 40 years? Ah, I know, we will definitely become full of white hair, like grandpa and grandma.

I must treasure this photo and let it accompany me until I grow old.

Part 4: Stories in Photos

Twelve years and hundreds of photos, the photos have witnessed my growth.

Open the photo album and look at it page by page. The photos of my childhood are so cute.

I often look at the photo and exclaim: "I'm actually so old!"

Looking at this photo, I'm smiling all over my face, with my hands open and my legs crossed, what am I doing? By the way, that day, a guest came to my house, and I was excitedly introducing my own room!

Every time I talk about my room, I feel proud. See that big bed? The set of furniture in the room was bought with my own savings. I remember my grandpa said he would buy it for me, but I insisted on buying it myself. My mother was worried and said, "I'm afraid you don't have enough money. Otherwise, buy something cheaper!" "No, just buy it!" Later I decided to borrow money from my mother and bought furniture, but my mother always said no. Returned. As for me, I must pay it back, and I wrote down the IOU seriously and prepared to pay it in installments.

For me who rarely does housework, I am determined to be more diligent this time. If I do a housework, my mother will remove a little "arrears"...

In the morning, I I got up and started preparing breakfast. Although I often made mistakes at the beginning: the custard buns were not steamed, and the jam was too much... Slowly, I became more comfortable preparing breakfast. In the evening, I went to the balcony: put away the clothes, folded them, and put them in. Wardrobe...

Just like that, a few months passed, and my mother felt sorry for herself, so she said: "Forget it, don't do it, don't return it!" But I still insisted on my original decision and was still happy. Doing housework. When my mother told me that the "debt" had been paid off, I jumped for joy. At that time, I really realized the joy of reaping rewards after hard work...

I remember that I was in fifth grade when I was buying furniture, and this photo was taken in sixth grade, and now I am in seventh grade. After all this time, I'm still proud of it. However, now that I think about it, I borrowed a lot of money from my mother to buy furniture. The labor fee was five yuan for each labor. I paid it off in such a short time. It must be my mother who was helping me. Therefore, I do more housework when I have time now. Although I want to help my mother, in my heart, this reason is also the main reason!

Every time I see this photo, I will run to the room, take a few glances, and then I can’t help but smile!

A photo, a story, this is the story of me saving money to buy furniture; a photo, a harvest, this is an unforgettable harvest in my life!

『四』The title is "Stories in Photos", an essay of 400 words, thank you

Today, I inadvertently flipped through the photo album, and suddenly, a picture A photo came into my sight: in that photo, there was a little girl in a skirt, planting something, with a happy smile on her face. Suddenly, a clear memory flashed through my mind. oh! It turns out that it was about growing sugar when I was a kid. To this day, I still have fresh memories of that!

I closed my eyes and time seemed to go back ten years ago. When I was a child in my hometown, my mother would often plant some flowers, and I would follow her every day. When my mother plants flowers, I plant them; when my mother waters them, I water them. As time went by, I learned the flower-planting movements with subtlety. While I was planting flowers, I was thinking about another thing. On a sunny afternoon, I found a good place with plenty of sunshine and fertile soil, planted my favorite candy, and looked forward to it growing into a big and lush candy tree every day. However, after a long time, my mother's flowers had produced full fruits, but my candy tree didn't even sprout buds. I asked my mother, and she said with a smile: "Silly boy, only plants can germinate, not candies!"

Although my wish was shattered, I still didn't think so, what should I do? Play as you please, without any sense of loss or worries.

I opened my eyes and time returned to the present.

How stupid I was at that time! But the stories from my childhood gave me a lot of happiness!

I feel a little lost in my heart. What is lost is that I have grown up; what is lost is that I can no longer live that carefree life; what is lost is that my childhood is gone and will never be returned.

Although my childhood has passed, I can still get back the feeling of my childhood from a smile or a look in those photos.

When I closed the photo album, I seemed to have found the shadow of my childhood again. My childhood seemed to come back to my heart!

"Wu" 800-word essay on the story in the photo

Time flies, and in the blink of an eye, I have changed from a little girl who loves to cry, to a person who has ideals and knows how to turn crystal clear For a girl whose tears are hidden deep in her heart, is it just time that passes as she grows up?

Opening the long-dusted photo album and letting my thoughts flow through it, I finally realized that what has passed the most is the cantabile years of my childhood.

Inadvertently, my eyes touched this photo. This is an extremely outstanding old photo that is very precious to me. In the photo, my sister and I stretched our hands into the blue sky to welcome the dazzling sliding fireworks.

Remember, it was the Spring Festival. Due to the needs of my father's work, we have to leave our hometown and our grandparents. When I was a child, I was willful. Whenever I thought about being separated from my friends, I would hide in the hut and cry non-stop. Even during the Spring Festival, I was depressed. My grandparents knew that this would be the last Spring Festival in their hometown. In order to liven up the family atmosphere, they encouraged my father to buy fireworks. Grandpa actually sang a Peking opera that he had not sung for many years.

I don’t understand why the parting moment is so lively.

My grandparents urged me and my sister to work hard and bring honor to our family, and they even gave each of us a little poem.

Dad set off fireworks and looked at the charming sparks rippling in the air. My sister and I excitedly raised our hands to the sky. At that moment, the camera captured this eternally beautiful moment.

The moment we turned around, I was shocked. The whole family stood there and looked at us. Just watching, the silent air couldn't help but turn into snowflakes. Flying.

From the eyes of my family, I seemed to see the warm river of love; the long ribbon of love; and the hard rock-like hope.

It is true that the years have passed by like a song, but the true feelings and hopes that have been buried in childhood still exist; even if the sea is gone, the affectionate eyes will always be the driving force for me to move forward.

This photo carrying hope not only records my childhood smiling face, but also records the brilliant night sky in my hometown.

"Lu" A 600-word essay on stories in photos

Stories in photos

Opening the old photo albums at home, one by one the yellowed photos reflected caught my eye.

That was a photo of my mother and uncle when they were young. The mother in the photo is about seven or eight years old. She is wearing a small square-necked cloth gown and a pair of trousers. She is hugging the tree trunk and smiling brightly. It seems that she is preparing to climb up the tree. As for my uncle, he was carrying a large bamboo pole more than three meters long, not knowing what he was going to do. After asking my mother, I found out that they were going to eat the cicada shells. In those days, cicada husk was an excellent Chinese medicinal material. Every summer vacation, children from all families would get up early, carrying small baskets and long bamboo poles to look for cicada shells in the groves in the village. The older brothers and sisters climbed up the tree to look for cicadas and cicada shells, while the younger brothers and sisters helped pass bamboo poles and pick up cicadas and cicada shells. They cooperated very well. Children often set out early in the morning with dry food and don't want to go home until dark. At this time, their small baskets were filled with cicada shells, and the small baskets with lids were filled with cicadas that had not yet fallen out of their shells.

After returning home, they washed and dried the cicada shells and sent them to the drug store in the town every few days, so that the tuition for the year was covered. During the good harvest, the extra money can also be used to buy some school supplies! The cicadas in the small basket that have not completely shelled out are another rare delicacy for people. Every night, when the cicadas are out of their shells, the children can't wait to clean the tender cicadas, shouting for the adults to put them in the pot, fry them until crispy, then sprinkle some salt on them and eat them deliciously. Get up. There are even children who are as greedy as cats. On the way to the drug store to sell cicada shells, they secretly hide a few cicada shells. When they get home, when the adults are not paying attention while cooking, they put them in the oil pan, fry them, and then put them in their mouths. Li ate it with relish.

Do you know what a delicious food this was for the children at that time!

This yellowed black and white photo seems to have brought me into my mother’s childhood, allowing my mother and I to enjoy that beautiful and happy time together!

『撒』 "Stories in Photos" An excellent composition of 600 to 700 words

Small photos are full of childhood memories.

——Inscription

Opening the photo album, one photo comes into view. These photos record the ups and downs of my childhood...

One photo fell out.

In the photo, I am two or three years old, sitting in my father's arms, wearing black sunglasses and holding a book in my hand. My father is smiling kindly.

That was when I was young and my father was young. Today, I have grown into a big girl, but my father is gradually aging.

When I was a child, my father’s big hand held my little hand and took me through spring, summer, autumn and winter one after another, through countryside wheat fields one after another, and through one happy day after another.

The book of time gently turned to the next page.

Now that I am older, I no longer need to hold hands with each other when walking through every place. My father has become my strong support.

Gradually, some white hair appeared on Dad’s head. The black hair always fought tenaciously against the white hair, but every time it seemed that the white hair ended in victory.

I tried my best to sprout, but your hair turned white.

Every week after school, as long as you don’t go to work, you will always wait for me at the school gate early after school, and prepare meals so that you can eat them as soon as you get home.

Your love for me is everywhere.

You are nothing like you in the photo. You broke your heart for ***.

When you were young, after years of erosion, wrinkles quietly climbed up your face, but you were always silent.

In the photo, you had a bright smile. Now, your smile is still the same, but it’s just less clear.

You don't ask questions or ask questions like your mother does. You care about me in your unique way. This is father's love.

Always asking for things from you but never saying thank you,

It wasn’t until I grew up that I realized how difficult it was for you.

Every time I leave, I always pretend to be relaxed.

I smile and say "Go back" and turn around with tears in my eyes.

I wish I could hold your warm hand like before,

But you are not by my side to ask the breeze to carry you well.

Slow down time,

Don’t let you grow old again,

I am willing to use my hand to change your years...

At this time, the song "Father" sounded in my ears. This song has touched the hearts of thousands of children. Looking at the photos, you are as young as you are in the photos!

The stories in the photos are my unique memories.

『8』 Who can help write a 500-word essay on the topic of the story in the photo

Title: The story in the photo

There is a photo in my house , the photo above is: several soldiers standing in front of the flagpole, watching the slowly rising national flag, a soldier is standing under the flagpole, slowly raising the national flag, the national flag is fluttering in the wind...

By the way, that’s the flag-raising ceremony held every morning at Tiananmen Square in Beijing. I have never completely forgotten what happened. Do you want to hear it? Want to hear? good! Let me tell you:

My parents took me to see it when I went to Beijing during the winter vacation of my first grade. It was not fully light when we got there, and the underground passage was not yet open, so we had to watch from across the road. After waiting for a while, the road began to be closed to traffic. After a while, a group of soldiers walked out of the Tiananmen Gate in an orderly and unhurried manner. There was no sound in the audience. In order to see clearly, I climbed up a nearby tree. The flag-raising ceremony continued as usual. By this time, the team had reached the flagpole. So, except for one flag-raiser, all the other soldiers stopped. The flag raiser walked under the flagpole, tied the flag, and the national anthem sounded. The flag raiser swung the flag upwards, and the flag rose spectacularly.

The leader of the flag guard team saluted the national flag...

Dad recorded this moment with a camera.

"Nine" A 600-word essay on stories in photos

In my photo album, there are many photos. Each photo is a beautiful moment, a sweet period. memories.

Look, there is a girl in this photo. She is holding the railing with her right hand and making a "V" shape with her left hand. She is standing on the deck. There is a river below. Next to the river are countless numbers. The unclear mountain, she is me. Whenever I see this photo, it reminds me of my visit to Guilin.

It was August during the summer vacation, and my mother and I traveled to Guilin. I heard that there are four major rivers in Guilin, the largest and longest being the Li River. So as soon as the tour guide said we should go play, I clamored and asked my mother to take me to the Li River, and my mother agreed.

We came to the Lijiang River, boarded the deck, and saw countless mountains rising from the ground, not connected to each other, like old people, like giant elephants, like camels, with strange peaks in various shapes. ; The mountains in Guilin are so beautiful, like a green barrier, like new bamboo shoots, with bright colors that reflect in the water; the mountains in Guilin are so dangerous, with dangerous peaks standing tall and jagged rocks that seem like they will fall down if they are not careful. The water of the Lijiang River is so quiet, so quiet that you can't feel it flowing; the water of the Lijiang River is so green, as green as if it were a piece of flawless emerald. The Lijiang River is like a winding jade belt, surrounded by mountains and cliffs. The wind was so strong that I couldn't open my eyes, so I had to squint, otherwise the sand would slip into my eyes. I closed my eyes and seemed to feel the green waves. When I opened my eyes and looked back, the rolling white waves on the river surged up layer by layer and receded layer by layer... The Lijiang River is really full of poetry and painting everywhere. Suddenly, my mother said to me: "One, two, three." I instinctively stretched out my hand to make a "V" shape, and with a "click", my trip to the Li River was recorded in the photo.

The photo album records the footprints of my summer vacation, which is the epitome of my summer vacation...

"Shi" is written on the topic of "Stories in Photos" An essay

A photo records a story; a photo tells an experience; a photo evokes a memory; a photo is full of emotion. It is such a small but profound photo, an ordinary yet unusual photo, so worthy of my collection.

My favorite photo was taken on the first day of the first lunar month in 2001 in the living room on the third floor of my new home. It is clearly visible in the photo that I am sitting on the sofa with my cousin, my cousin, my grandparents and my five grandsons. In my hand, I was holding a big apple picked from the plate on the table in front of me. Every time I pull this photo out of my album, the story behind it is still fresh in my mind.

It was the first day of the first lunar month when I was two years old. My grandparents, cousins, uncles and aunts came to my house as guests. While chatting, my father asked me to take a photo with my grandparents, cousins, grandparents, and grandchildren. After knowing where I was sitting, I hurriedly found a reason to ask my father to go to the fourth floor with me first.

When I got to the fourth floor, my father asked me what I wanted to do. I spoke out what was in my heart: "Why don't I sit in the middle?" "Because my cousin is the eldest among you three children, and you and your cousin are both grandsons of your grandparents, so of course you have to sit next to your grandparents." Dad replied road. "But grandma is so old. If others see it, will she laugh at me?" "You are wrong to think so," my father then taught me earnestly, "How can others laugh at you? Although grandma is old, But she has gone through decades of hardships for our family to be happy today. As the younger generation, we should respect and love her. Without grandma, there would be no dad, and without dad, there would be no you! "I suddenly realized and realized the mistake I had just made. If others see me sitting next to my grandma in the photo, not only will they not make fun of me, but they will think that I am a good child who respects his elders and is caring!

I happily returned to the living room on the third floor, walked briskly to where I was sitting for the photo, took a big apple with respect, and handed it to grandma. Grandma smiled slightly, handed the apple back to me, and said kindly: "Grandma is old and her teeth are no longer useful. Grandma understands the idea of ??a good grandson. It's better for you to eat it!" At this time, Dad shouted: "Look at me, everyone." Come here!" I held the apple left by my grandma in my hand and stared at the camera.

There was only a "click" sound, and this beautiful moment remained in the camera forever. After posting the photos, I took them, had them molded, and kept them in a photo album.

A photo contains such a story; a photo makes my mind fly back to ten years ago; a photo gives me an education of love. It is such an ordinary yet extraordinary photo that taught me how to respect and love our elders. Only in this way will our lives become better, our families happier, and our society more harmonious