I’m looking for a deeply touching article describing father’s love and mother’s love. A novel is also acceptable, 9,000 to 10,000 words. urgent

Father's love

(1)

If maternal love is compared to a blooming lily, exuding its charming fragrance in every corner, then Father's love is like a jasmine plant, which silently exhales its fresh fragrance in a corner! We have always only praised the greatness of maternal love, but who knows the implicitness of father's love!

The word "father's love" is so ordinary, but this kind of love is so extraordinary.

A jasmine plant may not have a refreshing fragrance, but it will always make you feel fresh and elegant. This is what father's love is, quietly blooming like jasmine. No matter where you are, your father's loving eyes will definitely accompany you throughout your life.

I am about to enter junior high school, and I have a heavy workload. I have to wait until on time to complete my homework, and I don’t finish my homework until nine or ten o’clock. My father often complains that I don’t hurry up. I am very used to completing my homework like this. I write and write every time, but it is too late and I am lying on the table. My father woke me up and criticized me harshly: "How can you do this! I don't believe you will still have the energy to listen to the lecture tomorrow. What's the use of not taking the time to study at night! I told you many times, but you just don't listen!" After saying that, he didn't sympathize with me at all, and gave me a slap in the face, walked out of my room, and slammed the door with a loud sound. I immediately turned off the light and lay down on the bed. I felt extremely wronged and thought: "Others don't finish their homework. What's wrong with me? I'm just procrastinating. Is it wrong? Can you blame me?" This slap made me burst into tears like boiling water. I feel that my father is too unkind. My father stopped talking to me, and I ignored him, often looking at him with hostility. I feel so heartbroken and uncomfortable about this. I search for those words in my memory every day, and I always feel that I am right. One day, I found such a piece of paper on my desk. The text was as follows: My child, I didn’t mean to hit you, but I’m just too cruel to make steel. Other people's children have finished their homework early and are still playing downstairs. How can your body hold up if you study like this every day? Dad hopes that you can learn every minute and every second and not let time pass by in a hurry, but you can't just see every day. At that time in the evening. Love you, father. I saw that there were clear traces of wiped tears on that note, and I was a little shaken in my will. I wrote a reply: Dad, I didn’t mean to make you angry. What happened in the past was my fault, and it was wrong of me to treat you like that. But you have to understand me. Other people's children take the time to finish their homework and then go out to play, but I can't. I know my father's good intentions. My son, I burst into tears, and I felt so much regret. I stuffed the letter into my father's pocket. From this moment on, I finally realized the greatness of father's love. I really wanted to say to my father: "Dad, I was wrong!" Two letters later, I met my father but I didn't know what to say. He said to me: "Eat!" I clearly heard that I agreed, "Yes!" He left me another note: Son, dad believes in you. If you pursue your goals, dad will not demand anything from you. Whatever you want, as long as you think it is right, just do it! I have deeply felt my father's love and intention for me. Inspired by love, I must study hard and "fight" the battle for promotion to high school to repay my father's love.

(2)

If maternal love is delicate, then father’s love is rough; if maternal love is as gentle as water, then father’s love is as steady as a mountain. Every time I read Zhu Ziqing's "Back", my father's back will appear in front of my eyes. The father was not a great man, nor did he do anything to make his son proud, but he was indeed a father who made his son proud.

I am not a son who makes my father worry-free. I am naughty and playful, and I never understand my father’s good intentions. My academic performance is a worry for him. It wasn't until that incident happened that I completely changed.

That year, I skipped school. My truancy was both due to my desire for fun and my dislike of studying. I hid at home and said nothing, waiting for my father's stormy punishment. I was fully mentally prepared to deal with all this with silence.

At this time, the door squeaked, and my father sat next to me with the air of a day's work. To my surprise, he didn't say anything and just smoked one cigarette after another. It was as if his words were all in the misty smoke. I glanced at him secretly, and suddenly I realized that my father was old. I have never looked at my father so carefully: the traces of time have climbed up his cheeks prematurely, the frosty white hair on his temples is so disproportionate to his age, and the fingers holding the cigarette are trembling slightly. Looking at my father's hands, I couldn't help but wonder: Are these my father's hands? Are these the hands that used to touch my little face when I was little?

I remember that those hands lifted me up high and tickled me so hard that I couldn’t stop laughing; I once remembered that every time those hands put me in the back seat, they had to press hard. Press, as if they were afraid that I would drop it; I remember that every morning when I went to school, when I was still sleeping, those big hands would pull me up from the bed, and then hold a bowl of hot egg noodles. Now these hands have changed and become so rough, like the old withered tree trunk in the yard. It’s all for me, for me, that my father has grown old! Thinking of this, my tears flowed down unsatisfactorily. "Dad, I'm going to school. I'll go tomorrow." My father's mouth moved as if he wanted to say something, but he didn't say anything. He just threw the cigarette to the ground, stepped on it hard with his foot, and said: " Go to bed early, I'll see you off tomorrow." Then he went out, leaving only my back.

When I woke up the next day, my father was already standing in front of my bed, with a bowl of hot egg noodles on the table. My father said: "Eat, I will take you there later." I sat on the back seat of my father's bicycle again. When I was a child, I often let my father hump like this. But this is the first time since I grew up. I have indeed grown up, because my father worked so hard that my back is a bit hunched, but I think this is enough to block the cold wind blowing from the front. At that moment, my father's back became eternity.

As the years go by, my father’s back is no longer as straight as before, but slightly hunched. I understood: I grew up, but my father got older. After that time, I was no longer tired of studying and my grades were improving day by day. Because I know that I go to school bearing the responsibility of my father.

I love my father as much as my father loves me.

(3) Father’s love is boundless

Leonardo Da Vinci once said, “A father can sacrifice everything, including his own life.” Someone has also said, "A child without father's love is like a sapling lacking sunlight." Is father's love really important? Is father's love really the greatest love in the world?

It is mothers who people often praise. Yes, maternal love is generous and broad, but maternal love gives people more dependence and a harbor for the soul; while father's love is restrained and implicit, giving people more strength and a sense of security. A motivation to move forward.

In 1948, on a ship crossing the Atlantic, a father took his little daughter to meet his wife in the United States. While peeling an apple, the knife accidentally hit him in the chest. His whole body was trembling, and his lips were instantly black. The 6-year-old daughter was frightened by her father's sudden change. She screamed and rushed over to help him, but he pushed his daughter's hand away with a smile: "It's okay, I just fell." Then he gently picked up the knife. , slowly got up, and unobtrusively wiped the blood on the blade with his thumb. For the next three days, everything seemed to be normal, and the little daughter could not yet notice that her father was getting weaker and paler every minute. The ship arrived at New York Harbor. The moment the daughter saw her mother, she suddenly found that her father had fallen on his back, and blood spurted out from his chest. The result of the corpse's dismemberment shocked everyone: the knife penetrated his heart with incomparable accuracy, and he But he lived for three more days without being noticed by anyone. This is a rare miracle in the history of medicine, but it is also a miracle created by a father with his love. This respectable father used his life to teach his children to be strong and to face difficulties bravely.

In life, a father may not be as great as the father in "Miracle", but little things are enough to feel the warmth of father's love. Before going to school, I was in poor health and often caught colds. I always had to go to the hospital for intravenous drips.

When the injection lasts for a long time, it will be very lonely, and I was not sensible at the time, so I will inevitably cry and make a fuss. Once, because my mother was at work, my father came to stay with me after his night shift. He brought a fairy tale book and kept reading it to me. Gradually, half an hour passed. Dad's reading speed slowed down, and his voice became a little low and hoarse. But I was completely caught up in the wonderful storyline and kept urging my dad to read quickly. My dad increased his reading speed, but I clearly found that his eyes were bloodshot. When I go to school, whenever I encounter a problem, my father always explains it to me patiently; when I encounter setbacks and shrink, my father always encourages me and gives me the confidence to overcome difficulties; when I have some physical problems, , my father is always the first to ask with concern.

I believe that my father's love will be the pillar and support of my life. My father's love is as boundless as the sky and the sea.

(4)

Today I read a lyrical essay "Dad, I Don’t Want to Be Your Daughter". I admired the unique writing skills of the article. Usually, the images of fathers that I see are described in the most direct narrative way, showing readers a father who makes his children proud. But when I saw the title of this essay, I was really surprised. I thought that the author must have a sad past that she couldn't bear to look back on, which made her so determined not to treat her as father and daughter.

The author uses purely emotional language to write about a father who is full of rudeness, shabbyness and incompetence, so that his daughter has been living with dissatisfaction and resentment towards her father since she was a child. But he is also such a father who, with a monthly salary of only 700 yuan, will send 400 yuan to his daughter who is studying in college; he will cry constantly because he broke two baskets of eggs in the ice and snow. He would not hug his daughter tenderly, but he would cry like a wronged child when sending her off to college. It is said that those who feel it may not understand it, but those who understand it can feel it better. After detailing every trivial matter in life, such an incompetent father finally made his daughter understand and willingly acknowledge this "dearest and most beloved dad".

Without such a father, adolescent daughters would go crazy with boys prematurely; without such a father, perhaps the daughter would not have the super independent ability she has today; without such a father , there won’t be so much confusion and strength in my daughter’s growing up years; if... the last sentence of the article made me smile with tears: "But by the end of this article, I have no choice but to accept my fate. Dad, you should still do it down-to-earth I love my dearest dad the most!" The image of a real father who is poor, kind and truly loves his daughter emerges vividly on the page.

The difference between this article and other character-describing articles is that the author uses an expressive writing method that makes the article more emotional and expresses deep feelings. Without excessive verbal elaboration, a plump father image is presented to us.

Father's love is as heavy as a mountain. In our hearts, the image of father is always deep and tall. He can protect us from wind and rain and give everything for us. Compared with the tenderness and delicateness of mother's love, father's love is more Quietly, giving silently, no matter how poor and incompetent he is, the heart of his lovely child is everywhere. This family love that is thicker than water is a priceless treasure that cannot be bought with money in the world. Father's love is like tea. When we taste tea, we often only enjoy the mellow fragrance of tea, but do not think of how to appreciate it. Only after occasionally drinking boiled water can we truly appreciate the fragrance of tea. . This love is contained in our ordinary life. Only by appreciating it with our heart can we feel this boundless love, and be deeply grateful and remember it.

The soul is only moved by love. Let us fully understand this purest, most profound, and most regretless father's love!

(5) Father’s love is boundless

Some people compare father’s love to a “mountain”, which is tall and towering; to a “sky”, which is rough and far-reaching; and to a “river” , slender and steady...

However, in life, the father's love I feel is neither vigorous nor majestic, but like a clear stream with rippling blue waves, gently and Gently stroking the emerald-like pebbles, sometimes splashing a few sparkling water drops; occasionally making ripples and circles of ripples, which are so subtle, so plain, and so dynamic, it arouses many reveries. .

It is said that girls have delicate hearts and often have wonderful thoughts in their minds. One day, I saw this sentence on the Internet: Please stand on the left side of the person you love. It tells the life story of a boy who always stood closely next to the girl he loved, blocking traffic for her. I felt disapproving and muttered: What does love have to do with being on the other side? It must have been another literati who released the "tear gas" that broke the girl's heart.

But an extremely ordinary scene shocked my soul. One day, it was raining heavily outside, and my father and I went out. The two of us were walking side by side on the road as usual. There was a car parked on the roadside in front of us. It was so narrow that only one person could pass, so my father walked on it. Front. After passing by, he walked side by side with me again. Being naughty, I deliberately walked on my father's right side, but he grabbed me and gently said to me: "Come to my left!" "Why?" I asked a little surprised. Father. "It's safe to walk in there!" Dad answered me in his usual short words. At this time, a fast-moving bus suddenly roared past on the opposite road. The splashing water wetted the clothes of passers-by and also wetted my father's clothes. But because I was standing on the right side of my father, I was not flying. The water splashed, and I froze there for a moment. It was such a simple "drama" action that could not be more ordinary in ordinary life, which made me feel my father's subtle and plain love and my father's love. Love is slender and profound.

In life, my father always walked on my left side habitually, using his own body to block the turbulent traffic for me, and how many wind, rain and dangers he blocked for me. He never explained and never stopped. , but did it silently, but I never noticed it. When a certain contact point in my soul suddenly collided, this window in life suddenly opened, and I truly saw the precious details of father's love. The details of this soul are combined into a garland of life. There are no gorgeous colors, but they are simple and thick. Without any modification, they often pop out like a few shining water drops without you noticing.

The words "Please stand on the left side of your beloved" echo in my ears...

It is "love" - ??the deep, great and pure "father's love" ——"Father's love is boundless"!

(6)

Father

I remember a few days ago, you told me; a 15-year-old girl was buried in the ruins, and the girl’s father was alone It took 11 hours to rescue the girl. After being rescued, the girl hugged her father tightly. The first thing he said was: "Dad, I will never quarrel with you again." It turned out that before the earthquake, the father and daughter had a quarrel, so...

After listening to this I was shocked and moved by the story, and a feeling of gratitude surged into my heart.

Remember:

When I was one year old, you held me and told me stories. I repaid you by smiling happily in my sleep.

When I was two years old, the first word I spoke was: "electric light". You were extremely excited. I repay you by saying "light" repeatedly.

When I was three years old, you held me, supported me, and taught me to walk. You let go of my little hand, looked at my staggering steps, and smiled happily. I repaid you by practicing repeatedly and finally learned to walk.

When I was four years old, I was afraid of taking medicine. That time, because you didn't take medicine, you beat me and your fingerprints were left on my butt. I cried so hard. You felt distressed and bought a Transformers for me. I repaid you by smiling happily, but I didn't talk to you for a long time.

When I was five years old, I went to the small class in kindergarten. You led me to school, and on the way you said, "Be obedient and be united and friendly with the children." I repaid you and was often praised by the teacher for being obedient.

When I was seven years old, I entered the first grade of elementary school. You asked me to go to school by myself and told me to study hard and make friends. You are afraid that I can’t keep up, but I will review with you. I repay you because I always want to escape from reviewing and always want to play.

When I was eight years old, I won the certificate of "Learning Activist" during June 1st. You are very happy and encourage me to keep up my good work.

......

Time flies like water. In the blink of an eye, I am already fourteen years old and have entered middle school. Look at you again - there are many silver threads on your head.

But your love still never grows old. Your love is like a colorful halo, surrounding me. Silently give me strength and warmth.

Maybe sometimes, you are not my best friend; sometimes, you may have disagreements and conflicts; sometimes, I don’t understand you very well, and may even dislike you. However, your father is your father, and he is your father after all.

Let us take a moment to pay respect to the man called "Dad" and say "thank you" to him. Although sometimes he couldn't say it in person, he always stayed with me, listening to me bragging, listening to me talk about my experiences, listening to me talking about my sad things...

You are by my side, watching me grow, watching Gradually I learned to be strong and independent.

Father, you are always caring about me and protecting me. Give me a sense of security that I can rely on. Father's love is as strong as a mountain; it stands as silently as a mountain; its selfless dedication like a mountain silently gives support and strength...

Dad, I know that you also have troubles, and so do you. With stress, you will also be exhausted. So, I will try my best to understand you. come on! Dad

(7) Father's love is like a song

I am a little bird, and my father's love is the sky. I fly in the care of my father's love. I am a little fish, and my father's love is the ocean. I swim in the warmth of my father's love.

My dad is an ordinary teacher, but in my eyes he is the greatest dad in the world.

I remember one severe winter, I didn’t wear a cotton-padded jacket when I went to school. The cold made me shiver. I rubbed my hands and regretted not listening to my mother. At this time, I heard Wu Weiwei say: "Ma Fengqi, your father is here!" I walked out of the classroom and saw my father smiling, holding a cotton-padded jacket in his hand, and said, "Come on, put it on." I put on my cotton-padded jacket, and my body felt warm, and my heart felt even warmer. My father said, "You must pay attention to it in the future." I smiled and nodded vigorously. When I got home, my mother heard that I was missing a cotton-padded jacket to go to school. She scolded me severely and was about to beat me. My father came over with a smile and said, "Children are ignorant, forget it." I am grateful. I looked at my father. My father taught me tolerance.

Another time, I got into trouble outside and irritated my mother. My mother’s criticism made me blush and I shed tears of regret. When my father saw me, he hurriedly wiped away my tears and reasoned with me. He also said to my mother: "Hitting and scolding children is not the best way to educate them. You must reason with them. After all, they are still children." Dad told me. Many truths made me admit my mistake with sincerity.

I grow up day by day and know how to be grateful to my parents. I would give my parents a cup of hot tea when they were tired; after dinner, my parents would take a rest and I would wash the dishes.

I have a good father who lets me know what love is. I grow in love, and a lamp of gratitude lights up in my heart, illuminating my path in life!

(9) The fragrance of father’s love

When it comes to love, the first thing that often pops into people’s minds is maternal love. Mother's kind smile, caring nagging and careful care always move us and make us unforgettable. Silent fatherly love is easy to ignore. Because it is not like maternal love, what the father often leaves behind is the back of hard work and a serious face. Underneath what we can see on the surface, there are hidden things in the darkness that are easy for us to ignore and are refreshing - -like.

One day, a middle-aged man helped his elderly father go for a walk in the park. Birds were dancing in the park.

The father pointed to a bird and asked: "What is this?" The middle-aged man replied: "It's a thrush." ??The father asked again: "What is this?" The middle-aged man replied: "Thrush." ??This is It was the father who asked again: "What is this?" The middle-aged man thought that maybe his father was old and his ears were hard to use, so he said, "It's the thrush." ??But before he finished, his father asked the same question again... and so on. Repeatedly, for the 10th time, the middle-aged man lost his patience and shouted, "It's Huamei. Stop asking!" But the father seemed particularly calm and didn't mean to be angry with his son at all. He spoke in a loving tone. He said in a tone of voice: "More than thirty years ago, when you were four years old, I led you here, who was naughty. You were very excited because of your curiosity and kept asking, 'What is this?' a full 25 times. Every time I answered patiently: "It's Huamei." Because you are still young and curious!" At this time, the son suddenly fell on his father and burst into tears, like a child.

We often see farewell scenes on TV when children leave home to make a living. The mother cried softly and gave instructions one after another, but the father always only said, "Okay, it's time to go." It was so plain, but who knew how much pain was contained in just a few words in this short sentence? And love? He wanted to cry, but he didn't. His love blossomed in silence, and only a faint fragrance could be smelled.

(10)

Father's love is speechless

When I was a child, I always thought that there was nothing greater than maternal love in the world. My mother can take me wherever I want to go and buy my favorite food. She wipes my tears when I cry... However, I have never personally felt that father's love is as great as mother's love...

When I was young, my father was always busy with his career and rarely cared about me. I used to envy other people's fathers. They could tutor their children and provide them with all their material needs. I can only cry silently.

However, since I was in the first grade of junior high school, my father has become more caring and stricter towards me. He bought me a lot of review materials and studied with me simultaneously. He was both my classmate and my teacher. I helped him in English and he helped me in mathematics. We learned from each other and improved each other. My father seemed to be a different person, caring and loving me so much. For me, he studied with me until late at night; for me, he waved with the computer; for me, he even quit many banquets... Seeing my father's gray lips Temple, my heart is crying.

Looking back on the past, I had too many misunderstandings about my father. I blame my father for not being able to spend more time with me, I blame my father for not always tutoring me in my studies, I blame my father... too much, too much! At this moment, I know I was wrong. In the past, it wasn't that my father didn't love me. What he gave me was a love that was unknown to everyone, a love that would not be publicized. My father tells me stories to let me know how to be a human being, and he loves me; he buys me many toys, and he loves me; he works hard to get me to go to school, and he loves me; and when I fall, he encourages me to stand up. , be strong, he loves me... Now think about it, my father has given too much love for me and this family.

At night, lying in bed, looking at the bright moonlight, thinking of my father’s wrinkles and his white hair, my tears couldn’t help but flow down the corners of my eyes, soaking my pillow again and again.

Dad, I love you, your greatness, and your silence. You are my eternal pride!