Joke Collection Website - News headlines - Write a composition on the topic of "home" and introduce your family.
Write a composition on the topic of "home" and introduce your family.
Let me give you an example.
One afternoon, my mother went to my aunt's house next door, and there were no adults at home. Moreover, "there is no tiger in the mountain, and the monkey is king", not to mention that this young lady belongs to the monkey! So, I, the "big witch of mixed times", extended the "devil's claw" to the computer I kissed. I didn't expect Cheng to kill a more hateful villain-my brother, who started a computer war with me. After 300 rounds of fierce fighting, I was forced to shout "surrender". I can't help it Who told me to hit that boy?
So, I did my homework with a bad face and listened discontentedly to the music, mouse clicks, keyboard strokes and my brother's laughter from time to time in the south. Hum, mom will come back later to see if your boy will die! Speak of the devil. Mom suddenly really "drifted" in. She was still smiling when she saw my sister and I doing our homework respectfully, but her face changed when she saw my brother's "criminal behavior". Shouting: "Boy, have you finished your homework?" Go to hell and do your homework! ! ! "When my brother heard my mother's magic voice, his legs were soft with fear, and then he was carried out by his mother's eagle like a chicken.
Ha ha ha ha, little guy, you are a little young to fight with me. Now it's all out, and the spirit of not afraid of death inspires me to stand in front of the computer. Just as I was going to play, my mother said, "What are you doing?" ! ! ! "Let my heart produced a unique idea:
"Quick-escape-"
He closed his eyes and prayed sincerely: "God, please let me have a house. I want to take good care of my wife and children. I want to have a real home. "
He is a beggar, begging for money from others in the street all day. If it weren't for his wife and children, he wouldn't live like this. He can go to heaven without regret, even in hell, he is fearless.
God heard his words. The merciful God thought for a long time and finally appeared before him: "Good man, I meet your requirements."
A house appeared in front of him after a dazzling light flashed. Although it is not very big, he is still very excited to draw a "ten" on his chest to express his gratitude to God.
The three of them moved in. Every day, as before, he begged in the street during the day and went home to "eat" with his wife and children at night. Life was good at first, but soon, he felt a little uncomfortable: "It's really unreasonable for us to live in such a good house, but eat such poor food and be looked down upon by others." If only we had money! " So, in the later days, he was unhappy. Finally, one day, he couldn't help but run to the church and pray devoutly: "Dear God, please give me money. I want to have a little self-esteem and let my wife and children eat better, so that I can feel at home. " God promised him.
When I got home, I saw that the ground at home was full of money, at least $654.38+00,000. He took the money, threw it into the air and smiled. His wife and children are also laughing happily. With some money, he bought a lot of decent clothes. At the same time, they no longer eat leftovers every day, but good meals, some of which even the rich can't afford. House, bought a big one; Car, bought an expensive one. As the days get better, he becomes very extravagant. Gradually, he felt that his wife was a little annoyed and ugly, and even wanted to abandon her. He indulges in debauchery every day, and even has another woman outside. His wife was very sad and left with her son and some money.
Gradually, his money ran out. At this time, his friends who were drinking with him and the women he was away from left him. "You poor man don't deserve such a good house!" People swarmed in and took his small building and car.
In winter, it is freezing and the wind is cold. He walked alone in the street and was scolded and laughed at by others. His eyes were moist, and then his heart woke up. He began to miss his wife and children, recalling that they and he pushed each other's leftover half bread in the difficult begging life, remembering his wife's exhortation and his son's kind hug, and he cried, shouted and ran in the street. He cried and fell to his knees: "God, I only want my wife and children, and I don't want anything else. Please, God! " God said seriously, "Go, they are waiting for you!" " "
At the end of the street, there is a small house, and a mother and son are laughing. He ran like crazy. ...
[Article 2]
Every family is a warm word for all of us. Since the word "home" came into being, there has been a corresponding wandering, but the end point of wandering is to find the paradise of one's soul-home.
In the process of exile, Qu Yuan, who suffered from Li Sao, thought most about that home-Du Ying. So no matter how much he suffers, he can wear a high crown and hold a sword and sing his own "Nine Songs". Once Ying Du was captured and his country was destroyed, he knew there was no home in the world. He went to another place farther away, and that was his home.
No wonder some people say that "when we meet by chance, we are all foreigners". Think about how many people have experienced such a moment: "Where is home in the Qinling Mountains, the snow is holding the green horse back." No matter how elegant Li Bai is, he will "sink back again, and I suddenly think of home"; Du Fu is selfless, knowing that "a letter from home is worth a thousand pounds of gold"; Xin Qiji just wants to return to a happy home with honor. Li Houzhu has the melancholy of "just a river flowing eastward", and it is only a memory of a peaceful seat in the homeland of the Southern Tang Dynasty ... The literati in the feudal era often drifted in the mountains and under the ancient sunset road because of the future, perhaps because of the war, perhaps for other reasons, but when they saw the lights in the city and the sporadic fishing light on the river, or saw the wisps of light smoke on the ridge of Shan Ye, how could they not remember that beauty? But I looked home, the twilight was getting thicker, and the river waves were filled with sad mist!
Even in peaceful and quiet times, the attachment to home is still so strong. My family is beautiful, happy, peaceful, healthy, and brothers and sisters live in harmony. "Beijingers in new york" tells the overseas China people's view of home, that is, in the quadrangle, the family is happily reunited. Huang Lei's home in "Time flies" is the unique charm of Jiangnan water town, and it is also the taste of Grandpa Qi studying there.
At this age, our views on home are even different: we want to own a house of our own, decorate it ourselves and live by ourselves; Who walks with me in the distance in the clouds, stays near the sun, can hide their ears, stay away from the secular noise, and want a clean and free life. Rebellious children think so, but good children don't. They want to live with their parents and put their old home and future home together.
Home is not just a house, it is a haven for vagrants and a post for the soul. In short, this is also a way of life that truly belongs to me, my relatives and my family.
[Wen San]
Break what?
As soon as she approached the house, Ann smelled a strange smell. She subconsciously rushed into the kitchen and turned off the fire on the stove. I don't know what burned it. Dad said in the study, "Who's back?" Ann shouldn't be in the kitchen. Dad was still sitting in front of the computer in the study, and the smoke in the study made An Gang go in and out again.
"Dad, what's burning on the stove?" "I don't know, ask your mother." "where's mom?" I don't know. Dad's indifferent attitude made Ann very helpless. At this moment, her mother pushed the door and came in. When she saw Ann's smile, her face changed immediately. Ann hurried back to her room and closed the door.
Sure enough, as I expected, my mother started yelling at my dad, for the burnt things in the pot, for the smell of smoke in the study, and for my dad's attitude of sitting in front of the computer and refusing to leave. My mother is a very educated woman with profound and sharp words. Although she didn't mean An An, An An's heart hurt. She leaned against the door and thought, "These are my parents." Then the tears began to slide down.
Dad finally began to fight back, for a man's dignity, against a woman's unreasonable and unbearable scolding.
This is why! Ann curled up behind the door and began to cry silently. She doesn't understand why a beautiful and warm home has become like this. Where is the father who is calm and humorous and supports this family like a mountain? Why did his kind smile and gentle enthusiasm no longer belong to her and her mother, but disappeared into the clouds of smoke and fluorescence night after night? Where is the gentle and elegant mother who provides warmth like the earth? Why did her tenderness and consideration for her father turn into cold accusations and bitter satire!
There is a strange sound outside the door, like a pushing sound. Ann doesn't know if they will quarrel. Although she always believed that her father would not do anything to her mother, she always believed her mother's words: "Don't be afraid, Ann, you have a home." At that time, mom and dad quarreled for the first time. Ann was so scared that she hid in her mother's arms and cried, so they stopped arguing. Her mother smiled gently and said enthusiastically, "Don't be afraid, Ann, you have a home." What a happy feeling, like a lifetime ago. Ann spent half a year in quarrels, big and small, and shed so many tears. Every time she comforted herself with her mother's words: "I'm not afraid, I still have a home."
Mother's crying is also very sharp, penetrating every wall, and the wall is painful. Ann asked herself, do I still have a home?
Dad finally couldn't take it anymore and slammed out the door. Mother suddenly stopped crying and the room became very quiet.
Ann seems to hear something broken.
Ann is suddenly tired and wants to sleep. The happiest thing when I was a child was to get out of the crib on Sunday morning and squeeze into the room between my parents to sleep. Even when I woke up, my parents were not around, and my heart was full of tenderness that I wanted to cry. Ann sincerely hopes that she can forget her father's indifference, full of vitriol and all their quarrels in the past six months, and then wake up to see their smiles. Her mother said, "No, Ann, you have a home."
[Article 4]
go home
As night falls, people who have been busy all day rush on, and now they all have the same destination-home.
Going out, home is the yearning of "Wan Li in a butterfly dream". On the way home, home is the kind of urgency that I can't wait to "shrink a thousand miles"; After a long separation, home is the kind of "relaxed and secure" comfort.
Wherever you are, the distance from home is close at hand. Because home is the thread in the hands of a loving mother. It was sewn tightly on your body before you left. No matter how far away from home. The feeling of home is always so warm, full of mom's advice and dad's concern, and I will never forget it.
Anxious to return, I believe everyone should have had this experience. In fact, it's not just an arrow home. I hope I can become a beam of light, which will come in an instant thousands of miles away. The closer you get to home, the stronger this feeling will be until you step into the house.
The classic saxophone "Going Home" touched the hearts of many vagrants. I wrote it because when the writer came home late at night, he found his mother still sitting on the sofa waiting for him to come back, and his true feelings surged. When a person listens to Home in the dead of night, he will strongly feel the warmth of home and the care of his relatives at home. Homesickness will slowly rise from the bottom of his heart, as if there is an invisible force driving you home. This is its magic, and it is also the magic of home.
My ear seems to remember Li Houzhu's exclamation after the national subjugation: "It is easy to see when you are away from home." I can only dream of strangers. How painful it is to be homeless or have a home and not be able to go back!
Dead vines, old trees, faint crows, small bridges, running water and people, it is precisely because of "people" that a series of scenery above have the breath of life. Home is where the heart is, and home is where the heart is. Everything has a home. Home is the source of life, and everything has a common foundation, and that is home.
People often repeat this when they leave home, miss home and go home. But no one is bored. No matter how far away we are from home, our concern for home will bring us back.
The gentle spring breeze turns green again, but, moon in the sky, when can you take me home? When the melodious saxophone came back to me, I couldn't help asking myself, "When will I go home?"
[Article 5]
The feeling of home
Our nation is really a sentimental nation. What is home? Look at the word "home". There are tapirs under the house, that is, pigs, which is a happy scene. The family lived in harmony in a house and raised a circle of fat pigs. What a warm "farmhouse". China people should be the people who have been resettled the most, because having a home can cover all hardships and troubles, so why should we travel around?
When away from home, almost all hotels have such a slogan: "Feel at home". You can't help thinking when you watch it. Really? Only those neatly stacked beds, cold bedding and some seemingly luxurious furniture can make guests feel at home? I'm afraid not. We attach importance to home, not only because it has the familiar environment and relatives we have lived together since childhood, but more importantly, we are afraid of the hidden dependence and unconstrained feeling in our hearts. It's good to study abroad and go home on holidays to meet your parents who have missed you for a long time, but the unrestrained conversation and stress-free atmosphere at the dinner table are the real feeling of home. If someone thinks that a place with relatives is home, I'm afraid I disagree. If you don't believe me, you can try to stay in a hotel with your parents. I would rather stay in my messy nest.
In my opinion, "home" is an innate complex, which is usually imperceptible and will only be thought of when you are in a strange place. Home, hometown, is a brand that a person can't erase all his life. When I grow up, I always leave home. The feeling of home at this time is no longer the mother's endless nagging, but sublimated into a memory, a taste, and a layer of fog that covers your eyes when you are unhappy in a foreign land.
"Home" is not just a house, but a harbor. When I am helpless, what I think is no longer about the future and livelihood, but I want to get into bed at home and cry.
But what if you say so much? Who has the feeling of explaining this family clearly? If a person drinks water, he knows a lot about water. The role of home in the heart is just like a dress added when the wind blows, just right, but only you know how warm it is.
What I feel at home is nothing more than warmth, parents, relatives, happiness, tolerance and stability, that's all. With such a family, what else can a husband ask for?
[Article 6]
home
Xu qiguo
Home is a sweet word for all of us. Now that you have a home, you have a corresponding wandering, but the end of wandering is to find your own spiritual paradise-home.
In the process of exile, Qu Yuan, who suffered from Li Sao, thought most about that home-Du Ying. Therefore, no matter how much he suffers, he can wear a high crown and a sword and sing his own nine songs. Once Ying Du was captured and his country was destroyed, he knew there was no home in the world. He went to another place farther away, and that was his home. No wonder some people say that people who meet by chance are all guests from other places. Think about how many people have experienced such a moment: "Where is home in the Qinling Mountains, the snow is holding the green horse back." No matter how elegant Li Bai is, he will "sink back again, and I suddenly think of home"; Du Fu is selfless, knowing that "a letter from home is worth a thousand pounds of gold"; Xin Qiji's "sword in the middle of the night, autumn soldiers in the battlefield"; I just want to return to a happy home with honor; Li Houzhu has the melancholy of "just a river flowing eastward", and it is only a memory of a peaceful seat in the homeland of the Southern Tang Dynasty ... The literati in the feudal era often drifted in the mountains and under the ancient sunset road because of the future, perhaps because of war, perhaps for other reasons, but when they saw the lights of the city and the sporadic fishing light on the river, or saw the wisps of smoke on the ridge of Shan Ye, how could they not think of that beauty? -"but I look to my hometown, the twilight is getting dark, and there is a sad mist on the river waves"!
Even in peaceful and quiet times, the attachment to home is still so strong. My family is beautiful, happy, peaceful, healthy, and brothers and sisters live in harmony. "Beijingers in new york" tells the overseas China people's view of home, that is, in the quadrangle, the family is happily reunited. Huang Lei's home in "Time flies" is the unique charm of Jiangnan water town, and it is also the taste of Grandpa Qi studying there.
At this age, our views on home are even different: we want to own a house of our own, decorate it ourselves and live by ourselves; Who and I walk in the distance of the cloud and stay near the sun, can cover our ears and stay away from the secular noise and want a clean and free life. Rebellious children think so, but good children don't. They want to live with their parents and put their old home and future home together.
Home is not just a house, it is a haven for vagrants and a post for the soul. In short, this is also a way of life that truly belongs to me, my relatives and my family.
Comments: literary talent, literary thinking, culture. Flexible, natural and rich in cultural background.
Take me home to wander.
Class 6, Grade 3, Senior High School
"What is the biggest goal in life?" I'm afraid you have been asked this question hundreds of times. Of course, this is a major problem you have to face before you are isolated from the world, and my previous answer was: travel all over the world. Because I really love this beautiful planet, all kinds of wonders, customs and lovely creatures I saw in books when I was a child almost drove me crazy, so I will not hesitate to embark on this perhaps endless road to see them. Now, whenever I make a wish to God, I will carefully revise my ideal: Please let me.
I remember it was two years ago. At that time, I was at the peak of the rebellious period, and I hardly cared about the people around me. Because I stubbornly believe that if you want to walk alone, you must learn to enjoy loneliness. In those melancholy days, I began to be a little cynical, and even hoped that I would be ignored. The shadow of self-mockery is also expanding. One day, I asked my mother in a playful tone, "If I am a killer, I will never go home again."
I thought my mother would stare at my absurdity, but I didn't expect her to say to me in a calm voice, "It doesn't matter, you know I was here anyway."
At that moment, the closed wall I worked so hard to manage was completely shattered and turned into gentle water, which still moistens my heart. From that moment on, I understood that my relatives built their home in my heart, and even if I built my heart higher, I couldn't stop the warmth of home. Warm current wraps me, gently and softly, whispering to tell me that being ignored is not enjoying loneliness. I already feel that I missed something on my way alone.
So I often wonder what I lack and what I need. Family? But if you take them on a trip, you will be too tired and they have their own lives to go. Maybe something used. No, there will always be a lot of bumps on the road, and I don't have time to care about their quality.
I found what I always wanted when I was alone at home in the Mid-Autumn Festival. My busy father sent my favorite moon cake home before I went home that day, and then he seemed to go out again. I cut the delicate moon cakes and began to enjoy delicious food. But soon, I found that the moon cakes were too sweet. At that time, I only ate one third of a moon cake. I suddenly realized that a moon cake is for the whole family, but what about me? There is nothing but myself. What I want is a home where I can share everything.
Finally, I confided my ideal to my mother: "I want to travel around the world." My mother giggled and pointed at my chest. Sympathy flashed across her gentle face, without words. I know, that's the home she decided to watch for me, watch for me in the distance and take away for me.
I think, when I leave them and start walking independently, no matter which Mid-Autumn Festival, I will bring back a moon cake with one third left. This is not a ceremony, but a proof that I am wandering somewhere on this planet in the direction of my dream and taking my home with me.
Comments: The emotional experience is unique and the narrative angle is novel.
The flute of the night boat rustled.
Senior three (10) class Chen
Time passes slowly, slowly. The little girl with messy hair and dirty clothes began to comb her hair meticulously. Looking at her clean fingers and white handkerchief, Xiaoxie still thinks that she is not from this city. When the long river of time washed all the scenery and took us to the next place, it happened that Xiao Xie was left in that small town.
Xiao Xie said that she stopped at that moment and never came out.
What I can't forget is that in the courtyard of my ancestral home, I climbed the stone table as cool as water and watched the twilight merge. The breeze flew lazily through my fingers, the flute sounded leisurely and fell asleep. Wu Peng's boat, which often stops in the river in front of his ancestral home, likes to play the flute on moonless and starless nights. The flute is quiet and desolate, and it is more affectionate if it rains. Xiao Xie softened. When she was about to fall asleep, her mother-in-law's warm big hand caught her and carried her to a big mahogany bed.
Xiao Xie always thought that this would be her home for life, so when her parents came to this city with Xiao Xie, Xiao Xie shook her head very hard, trying to wake herself up, but this dream, she couldn't wake up any more and had to walk alone.
This blunt city can't find a winding alley paved with bluestone. There are dirty rivers, but no one has ever played the flute. The rain fell silently on the hard concrete floor. Xiao Xie is not a romantic. He thinks this quiet city is a boring place.
Over the years, Xiao Xie felt that he was the ferryman. He wandered from one ferry to another, watching the lights go out clearly in the rain, and he couldn't find his home. He can only drift from one busy place to another. The ferryman should have a story. In Xiao Xie's story, he is just another sustenance of homesickness.
Back in town, Xiao Xie has grown up. Walking on the soft land, Xiao Xie's eyebrows are lonely, and red silk thread is tied to her wrist. My mother-in-law said she could ward off evil spirits. The ancestral home was irretrievably destroyed. My mother-in-law said that it takes 30 years for the wind to erode a wooden window, 60 years for the red paint of the gate to peel off, and it takes 100 years for termites to finish eating wooden beams. This family can stand for generations in the wind and rain. But my mother-in-law never imagined that when the master left, the family was empty and the family was scattered. Home is not this ancestral home, but Xiao Xie's concern for her mother-in-law. Home is the smile in her sleep when the flute is melodious at night, and home is the red silk thread that Xiao Xie can't untie on her wrist.
A few days after leaving home, Xiao Xie has been worried about his parents, who have been frosted at home. Although Xiao Xie doesn't like that city, he still clearly remembers the warm lights at home. He won't lose his home in a strange city, where his parents are waiting for him.
In fact, home is a convenient place with fetters.
Who is playing the pipa and singing home songs?
Ge Yu, Senior 3 (10)
In the young and ancient years, when the petals of Impatiens wrapped around their fingertips, it was as warm as the sunshine at four o'clock in the afternoon in winter. In the season when the grass grows and the warbler flies, dandelions can be seen everywhere and are blown away intentionally or unintentionally. When the sun goes down, flowers float to the horizon.
Whenever I recall my childhood, the first thing that comes to mind is always the picture of dandelions flying in the fields, as white as snowflakes in the beautiful dusk, and tears do not want to wander in the wet patches because they don't want to leave home.
A long time ago, I wandered away from home with dandelion. In the noisy and silent city, we couldn't track down its news. Another night wind came, and I asked the wind alone under the twilight sky where the dandelion had gone. Do they feel homesick, and then quietly wait for an answer that has never been answered, and feel homesick in loneliness.
I went home once a long time ago, but I didn't imagine the ecstasy and irritability when the young wild horse left the reins. Wandering or looking forward to going home for the first time at night turned out to be a farewell to relatives. I followed the long white team to send her the last journey. For the first time, I felt the fragility and helplessness of life. At the moment of death judgment, human beings only had sadness. Finally, she fell asleep on the hillside, which was covered with dandelions and desolate. Every seed conveyed eternal sadness in the wind.
When I left, I stared greedily at every corner of the earth, ambitious to step over every blue brick on the stone road. Children who leave home don't know when to go home next time.
At dawn many years later, I left home quietly with tears in my eyes.
Some things can never be hated, and home is like home. Even if it is barren and old-fashioned, it will not flow again. As long as you look at the gurgling stream, all the unhappiness will disappear immediately with the enchanting face and clear eyes full of vicissitudes in March.
The birth of life, the demise of death, from the known to the unknown, from the unknown to the known, history has never answered the mystery of love and the strangeness of the soul, and the universe is mysterious in layers in dreams and spaces. Home is a mystery to be interpreted in a lifetime. Even if the whole world shuts you out, the door of home is always open.
There is only one road in life, and the end of that road is the grave. I've been walking just to get home before I reach the grave.
Only by maintaining the strength of home at all times can we never lose the mood of flying in the lightning storm of life and the axe chisel of life.
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