Please write some essays that express emotions based on events.

Little Orange Lamp This happened more than ten years ago. One afternoon before the Spring Festival, I went to the outskirts of Chongqing to visit a friend. She lived upstairs in the township office in that village. I walked up a dark, narrow staircase and entered a room with a square table, a few bamboo stools, and a telephone on the wall. Then I entered my friend's room, separated from the outside by only a curtain. She was not at home, but there was a note on the table in front of the window, saying that she had to go out temporarily for something and asked me to wait for her. I sat down at her table, picked up a newspaper and read it. Suddenly I heard the door of the outer room creaking open. After a while, I heard someone moving the bamboo stool. I opened the curtain and saw a little girl, only eight or nine years old, with a thin pale face, purple lips from the cold, very short hair, wearing very shabby clothes and a pair of barefoot straw sandals, who was boarding the mountain. He got up on the bamboo stool and wanted to pick up the receiver on the wall. He seemed surprised when he saw me and retracted his hand. I asked her: "Do you want to make a call?" She climbed down from the bamboo stool and nodded and said, "I want to go to XX Hospital and see Dr. Hu. My mother just vomited a lot of blood!" I asked: "Do you know XX Hospital? "Do you have the phone number?" She shook her head and said, "I was just about to ask the telephone company..." I quickly found the hospital number from the phone book next to the machine, and asked her again, "I found the doctor. I'll ask him to come." Whose house should I go to?" She said, "As long as you tell Wang Chunlin that his family is sick, he will come." I got through the call, and she thanked me gratefully and left. I pulled her and asked, "Is your home far away?" She pointed out the window and said, "It's just under the big yellow fruit tree in the mountain nest. It can be reached in a short time." Then she went downstairs choking, choking, choking. . I went back to the back room, read the newspaper front and back, and picked up a book called "Three Hundred Tang Poems". Halfway through, the sky became darker and gloomier, and my friend still hadn't come back. I stood up bored and looked out the window at the confused mountain scenery in the thick fog. When I saw the hut under the yellow fruit tree, I suddenly wanted to visit the little girl and her sick mother. I went downstairs and bought a few big red oranges at the door, stuffed them in my handbag, and walked along the uneven stone road to the door of the small house. I knocked gently on the door. The little girl just came out and opened the door. She looked up at me and was stunned for a moment. Then she smiled and waved me in. The room was small and dark. On the wooden floor against the wall, her mother was lying flat with her eyes closed. She was probably asleep. There were blood stains on her head under the quilt. Her face was turned inward, and only her face was visible. His messy hair and a big bun on the back of his head. There was a small charcoal stove next to the door, with a small casserole on it, steaming slightly. The little girl gave me a small stool in front of the stove and squatted down next to me. Keep looking at me. I asked gently: "Has the doctor been here?" She said: "He has been and gave mom an injection... She is fine now." She then said as if to comfort me: "Don't worry, doctor. It will come tomorrow morning." I asked, "Has she eaten anything? What's in this pot?" She smiled and said, "Sweet potato porridge - our New Year's Eve dinner." I thought of the oranges I brought. Come out and put it on the small table next to the bed. She didn't say anything. She just reached for the largest orange, peeled off a section of the top skin with a knife, and gently pinched the bottom half with both hands. I asked in a low voice: "Who else is there in your family?" She said: "There is no one now, my father has gone outside..." She did not say any more, but slowly took out a piece of orange peel. The fleshy orange petals came and were placed beside her mother's pillow. The dim light from the fire gradually dimmed, and it became dark outside. I stood up to leave, but she held me back, and with great agility took the big needle with the hemp thread, and threaded the small orange bowl around it like a small basket, using a small bamboo stick to hold it, and then He took a short piece of wax from the window sill, put it inside and lit it, then handed it to me and said, "It's dark and the road is slippery. Let this little orange light illuminate your way up the mountain!" I took it with appreciation and thanked me. She sent me out the door. I didn’t know what to say, but she said as if to comfort me: "Soon, my father will come back. My mother will be fine by then." She put her little hand on the Draw a circle in front of me, and finally press it on my hand: "We are all fine too!" Obviously, this "everyone" includes me. I held this clever little orange lantern and walked slowly on the dark and humid mountain road.

This hazy orange-red light really couldn't shine very far, but this little girl's calmness, bravery, and optimistic spirit inspired me. I seemed to feel that there was infinite light in front of me! My friend had come back and saw me holding a small orange lantern and asked me where I came from. I replied: "Come from... From Wang Chunlin's house." She said in surprise: "Wang Chunlin, that carpenter, how do you recognize him? Last year, several students from Yamashita Medical College were arrested as Communist Party members. Later, Wang Chunlin also disappeared. It is said that he often delivered letters to those students..." I left the mountain village that night and never heard from the little girl and her mother again. But since then, every Spring Festival, I think of that little orange lantern. Twelve years have passed, and the little girl's father must have come back long ago. Her mother must be fine too, right? Because "all" of us are "well"! ================================================== ========== The memories of home seem to have been changing with the passage of time since I was sensible. Starting from my father's single dormitory shared by two people, to the first house of our own where our family members from all over the world can live alone - a house next to the boiler room, only 12 square meters. m of temporary shelter. There I spent my childhood. We were always very poor at that time, and my father just started working, and he didn’t get much salary. My father is a filial son. From his monthly salary of 18 yuan, he managed to squeeze out 10 yuan to send to his grandmother in Chongqing. For this reason, my mother and father often quarreled, but my father never hit my mother, and I was often slapped by my father. I was too young at that time, and my memories are fragmented and happy. I only vaguely remember that my father would do magic: he would give me a fruit candy or something every day. At that time, high-end toys such as rag dolls and Transformers were unthinkable. When I got older, it was time for me to go to preschool, so our family once again moved into a room called the "TV room". There is a window on one wall of the house, and there is a color TV set from my father's workplace. In those days, it was a great thing for anyone to have a color TV set at home. Therefore, in the evening, there are many people in the TV room, and everyone gathers here to watch TV and chat. For example, which country's prime minister met with whom and whom again today; who and so announced what policy; who attacked whom... Although these are extremely far away from the lives of us ordinary people, having them makes life more colorful. . Of course, these words didn't mean much to us kids. At that time, I was keen on learning how to blow bubble gum. Painful and happy, there is no better way to describe me at that time. Every morning before six o'clock, my mother would lift me out of bed: read Pinyin and memorize the textbook - because the Chinese teacher (and head teacher) said that if I take the final exam this semester, my Chinese score will not reach I was asked to repeat the grade if I scored 80 points (I scored 68 points in the mid-term exam, and the teacher thought I was a dead wood that could not be carved, but actually I thought it was okay, so I passed the exam anyway). For this ambitious goal, my mother and I worked extremely hard. Motherly love is great, I still think so, so I am very grateful to my mother. Although, my mother couldn't really help me at that time (my mother's standard Mandarin pronunciation was really very different from my teacher's). However, in order to encourage my enthusiasm for learning, my mother borrowed a tape recorder (the thing that made sounds was considered a treasure at that time), and then asked the teacher to buy a tape from Chengdu - this made me sleep It is something that is not suitable for sleeping in. Even though I have moved many times, I have not lost it. Every morning he recited those damn "guang", "zhuang" and "huang" after me. To this day, every time I talk about this, my mother still reads it to me seriously, as if she wants to get back the time she wasted in that era. My mother said that when they were studying in that era, they all memorized "Quotations of Chairman Mao." However, fortunately, the final exam results made my mother and I breath a sigh of relief: I don’t have to repeat a grade! Chinese language score is 98 points. The Chinese teacher (also head teacher) had nothing to say and asked me to stay in the class. However, my arithmetic score that semester dropped from 98 in the mid-term to 89. I often thought that the arithmetic teacher should be more merciful, otherwise, during that holiday, the whole yard would have to listen to my mother and I reciting oral multiplication numbers again. Time always flies by. In a blink of an eye, I am in second grade, and this time our family has moved again.

But this time it's not in the boiler room or the TV room, this time it's next to the big iron door. Every day I look at the big iron door, opening and closing, closing and opening again. I was thinking about how great it would be if that door opened with all happiness and closed with all troubles? People who go in may frown, but they will definitely be happy when they come out (by the way, there are two big slogans written on the left and right walls of the big iron gate: Go to work happily, be ordinary) Go home safely). At that time, there were quite a lot of friends in the yard. After we played all the fun things, we started to play with the iron door: to see who could kick the door farther. So wow, I saw a few little girls and boys, stroking their arms, rushing towards the iron gate again and again... followed by waves of deafening crashes, the laughter of their friends, the scoldings of the adults, and they ran away Voice. I can’t explain why, but when I was in the fifth grade of elementary school, our family moved again. This time is different from the past. In the past, I lived in bungalows and did not feel the benefits of high floors. Now our family has moved to a higher "level". It's like stepping up to a new level - the new home has been moved to the second floor of the single dormitory. Although it is also a single dormitory, it is indeed much better than the previous home (in fact, these few moves have been in the same yard, just changing from one room to another). First of all, the area is larger than before. My mother drew a curtain in the middle of the room, and it became "one bedroom and two living rooms." Moreover, the house has two windows, which my mother said is conducive to air circulation. Looking out from the window is the railway. Outside the railway are fields, and the view is very broad. In addition, what makes me most happy is that I have a desk of my own, which was borrowed by my father from the work. Although it does not really belong to me, I am still very happy because I have it. The calendar is always updated every day, and our family’s life is getting better day by day. My mother no longer has to worry about my studies, because every time I hold a parent-teacher meeting, my mother will hear the teacher praising me. This makes her very happy, and it also makes my mother very happy in front of many parents of children in the same hospital. Proud - She has an obedient daughter. At least I don't have to watch me study, so I can do well in the exam. That year, my mother made a decision to buy a big thing for the family: a television. My father and I were overjoyed. Maybe at that time, one-third of the classmates in the class were myopic, but I was spared - maybe the lack of TV was a big reason. I just remember that my favorite thing to watch at that time was "The Legend of White Snake", which was broadcast during the summer vacation. I often asked my father to wake me up late at night just to watch this TV (actually it wasn't that late when it was broadcast, That's probably after twelve o'clock, but children are not used to staying up late, so it's so hard). However, it usually takes less than 10 minutes for me to fall asleep again. Then, the next day, I pestered my mother to tell me what was played last night. I was often fascinated by the love and beautiful singing of White Snake and Xu Xian. It's just that I didn't understand so much at the time. I just thought that the white lady was so beautiful, and she looked so lovable even when she cried. Furthermore, the heart for "justice" has also been aroused: Why the hell is Fahai always so nosy? I wanted to rush into the TV and give him a good beating... The last time I moved was after I graduated from elementary school. This also made me finally understand the meaning of rising step by step - this time, our family finally moved into the family building and lived on the third floor. It was a second-hand house with two rooms, a balcony, and the important thing was that the toilet was also equipped (this was incomparable to bungalows and single dormitories in the past). What makes me even more happy is that I finally have a room of my own, and the borrowed desk moved with me to my new home. It wasn't until I left home to study that the borrowed desk was moved to my new home. Father returned it. Of course, the days that followed were busy cleaning and tidying up, thinking that it would be our new home. My mother and I both did it very meticulously and conscientiously. The snow-white wall was divided into two, and the lower part was painted with sky blue paint. My father said that it would look good and would not get dirty easily. Even if it was a little dirty, it would not be noticeable. My mother and I both agreed with my father's approach. The next work was tedious. My father made the furniture himself. He said it was stronger this way. My mother and I were more busy cleaning the house. I remember one day, I mopped the house five times. One can imagine how hurriedly the old owner of that house left. Apart from these, I have more important things to do, which is to learn to ride a bicycle as soon as possible.

We all have to ride bicycles in middle school, but I still can’t do it after I graduate from elementary school. It’s really a matter of urgency. In this way, I naturally owned my first private property - a brand new bicycle (this was said by my junior high school teacher, a man who was often unkempt). After I don’t know how many times I went through devilish wrestling exercises, and with scars all over my body, I walked towards my new organization, the Chinese Communist Youth League. There, I lived a busy and happy three years as a good student. The turning point of fate also occurred during the summer vacation three years later. My mother decided not to let me continue studying in high school, but sent me to a technical secondary school far away in Chongqing. Sadness is inevitable, because I don’t know what else I would do if I wasn’t allowed to study. Although the thought of giving up studying and going to work flashed through my mind, it was only a momentary thought after all. Accompanied by my mother, and with the regrets of my teachers and classmates, I started a new study life again. It was leisurely, rhythm-free, and stress-free, completely different from the past days. Apart from the bell ringing every day after class, I know clearly that I am still alive. Fighting, falling in love, and skipping classes all seemed to be the focus of life, and I had no time to adapt. Thinking about it now, I was too innocent at that time. Once I accidentally saw my senior classmates kissing in the classroom, which made me feel guilty for a long time. Because our dormitory is facing the classroom, with only a forest in between. And that forest was once my favorite place with my colleagues. The fog in Chongqing was very heavy and thick. Every time we looked over from our dormitory, there were only shining fluorescent lights in the whole teaching building. It felt like they were It was hung out of thin air. It's beautiful, it's beautiful. The topic seems to have gone a bit far, so let’s get back to the subject. Every summer and winter vacation, I go home and do what I can. I am growing up, but my parents are getting older day by day, just like this house. The real return home was four years later, when I graduated. Then I left home quickly and went to work. Only then did I realize that home is the most important place in my life. No matter how far I am away from home; no matter how long I am away from home. Because there will eventually be someone there, in that unchanging place - waiting for you to go home! ================================================== ========= My mother called me on a day when it was cold and warm, with a hint of autumn breeze, and asked me to pick up the vest she had knitted for me. After the purple-pink, soft vest clung to my body, my mother put on her reading glasses and looked around me up, down, left, and right, while constantly asking me what my size was and whether the style suited me. When I was satisfied with the answers one by one, my mother let out a long sigh of relief and said with satisfaction: "I am not afraid that you will catch a cold now. I feel very uncomfortable when I hear you cough. I must pay more attention when the weather gets cold in the future. Clothes!" Seeing the vest she knitted for her daughter put on, the mother's excitement showed in her eyes. Seeing my mother like this, a sad and unspeakable feeling of shame suddenly piled up in my heart, making me feel depressed and congested. You know, in all the years that I have grown up, I know that my mother is afraid of the cold in winter, but I have never knitted a sweater for my mother; my mother obviously suffers from severe osteoproliferative cervical spondylosis, but she has knitted a sweater for her daughter. This is the thinnest wool and fine velvet vest currently on the market, and it was all caused by a cold I caught because I only cared about being "beautiful". It was caused by an inadvertent cough when I was staying at my mother's house during the Spring Festival this year. Growing up, my mother knitted countless styles of sweaters for me, but this purple-pink, soft vest made me feel particularly guilty and uneasy. The scene of buying wool with my mother that day suddenly unfolded in front of me. In August, when autumn comes, the scorching sun shines directly into the sky. After a meeting in the city in the morning, after lunch, I didn’t want to go back to my home near the train station because the weather was too hot, so I went to my mother’s house not far from the meeting place to escape the heat and cool down. As soon as I entered, my mother asked: "Is there anything else in the afternoon? Let's go buy wool if you have nothing." "Buy wool? Go buy wool in such a hot weather?" I looked at my mother strangely, and my mother hurriedly said: "I heard it during the Spring Festival. You coughed and thought you must have a cold back. I wanted to knit you a thin-threaded vest at the beginning of the new year, but I have been so busy that I didn’t have time until now. I saw you coming back today, and I just wanted to ask my staff what color thread to buy.

"What should I do if I get overheated by knitting a sweater on a hot day? I have a lot of sweaters, otherwise I would have to go to the store and buy another one when the weather gets cold." Why bother asking for trouble?" I said and prepared to go to the bedroom to rest. "The ones bought in the store are not as warm as those hand-knitted by myself. If you don't go, I'll go and forget it myself. "My mother said stubbornly. I had no choice but to go out with her. The afternoon sun was blazing, and as soon as I went out, a heat wave hit me. I quickly opened my parasol and walked with my mother on the street with few pedestrians. Before 5 Within minutes, we were sweating profusely and out of breath. Coupled with the way I was dressed during the meeting, a dissatisfied expression was written on my face. My mother hurriedly stepped out of the umbrella. Xia said: "You fight it yourself, the two of them are too hot. "No, the sun is so poisonous, let's take a three-wheeler." "I quickly said to my mother, but my mother was unwilling. I knew she was afraid of wasting money, so I had to put away my umbrella and shuttle between the streets and shops with my mother. After walking for a while, facing the scorching sun in the sky, I It was really unbearable, so I said to my mother: "I feel a little uncomfortable and want to go home." "When I heard that I was not feeling well, my mother suddenly became anxious and complained that I didn't tell me earlier and wanted to take me to the hospital. When I said that I just had a slight cold, my mother breathed a sigh of relief and hurriedly called for a tricycle to let me go. I went home to rest, but I insisted on buying a thread before returning home. I fell asleep quickly after an unknown period of time, when I heard a knock on the door. , I saw my mother standing in front of me with her face flushed and sweating. While touching my forehead with her hand, she asked me softly: "Do you feel better?" I said it was okay, and my mother took out the thread for me to appreciate. When I saw that the one my mother bought was tender pink, I was very disappointed and said to my mother: "How old do you think I am? How can I wear it if I am so young?!" "How about the purple-pink one?" "My mother asked. "Okay!" I replied lazily. In a blink of an eye, I heard the door closing, and my mother went out again. Today, this purple-pink vest sticks tightly to my body. This warmth, This concern is like a bone in my throat, and I can't express it. This is not a small vest. It is clearly the weaving of the mother's love for her daughter and the mother's meticulous care for her daughter. Seeing my mother who was busy in the kitchen again, waves surged in my heart, and tears filled my eyes. Mother! How do you want your daughter to repay her? ======================================= It’s raining again! The night always stirs up people's dusty memories. Looking at the rain curtain as thin as a bead curtain, a string of waves rolls out in the heart, lingering and distant; there is nothing more thought-provoking than the memories in the rain, than enjoying the emptiness alone. Is the tranquility more charming? In life, there are always many memories that are engraved in the heart and can never be erased. In the little leisure time, I always love to walk alone by the lake with clear ripples, facing the The soft sunshine under the willow branches opens the floodgates of my thoughts to capture every word and every person in that distant time, and to understand the true meaning of life. And tonight, on a drizzling night, I think of a few years ago. The scene of climbing Huangshan Mountain in the rain... I came to the foot of Huangshan Mountain during a heavy rainstorm. I put on two raincoats. I was still soaked in the heavy rain for more than two hours while waiting for the cable car to go up the mountain, and I felt very sad. I am looking forward to it: Stop the rain, stop it! But the strong wind and heavy rain are like angry giant palms tearing apart the gray sky. Even in the unbearable heat of July, I am still cold among the crowds. I was shivering all the time. I went up the mountain in the heavy rain and checked into the hotel under the arrangement of the tour guide. The hotel was dark and damp, and the quilt was cold and hard. I didn’t want to add any more burden to my travel bag. When my clothes were wet and I was shivering from the cold, I had to go to a small store on the mountain to buy a pair of cotton clothes and trousers to put on some warmth. After a night. The next morning, the rain was still falling, the wind was still roaring, and the raindrops fell on people's faces and it hurt. The tour guide came to us and announced: Due to the violent storm last night, the people who usually go up and down the mountain will not be able to go up and down the mountain. The road has collapsed and blocked, and food cannot be supplied. For the safety of tourists, there is only one road to take everyone down the mountain.

We were stunned to hear that we had come all the way here. We just wanted to see the elegance of "the five mountains are not seen when returning, and the mountains are not seen when returning from Huangshan". However, we did not want to have a chance to see the true face of Huangshan, but we had to go around it. The scenic spot went down the mountain. But we heard from the tour guide that the landslide had crushed two people to death and buried a car. The wind and rain did not stop, and the danger might happen again at any time. We had no choice but to follow the tour guide's instructions and returned home disappointed. Although it is going down the mountain, it is difficult to walk. There are many dangerous places where only one person can pass, and there are cliffs on both sides that cannot be seen to the end. If you are not careful, you will fall into the abyss; and going down the mountain is not always going down, it is up and down, and it is circuitous. , dangers arose one after another. After walking for four hours in the wind and rain, I was so tired that I could only use my hands and feet in many climbing places. The tour guide said that it would take another three hours to reach the bottom of the mountain. I was struggling, carrying a travel bag on my back and holding a large bottle of mineral water in my hand. I was stumbling, my face was red, and my dry clothes from last night were soaked by the rain again. "I can't do it, I can't do it!" I fell down and sat on the ground on the side of the road, thinking about the far, winding and dangerous road ahead that I couldn't see. My face was full of frustration and I couldn't breathe. At this time, a man about 25 or 26 years old A tall girl walked up to me. She was about 1.78 meters tall with a slender figure. She was wearing shorts and shorts. She looked fresh and fresh. "Let me get you some mineral water." Water became me Life-saving water when you are thirsty. Even if there is an extra blade of grass going up or down the mountain, it will feel like there is an extra brick. I looked into her pure eyes and handed it to her sheepishly. She held my extra large bottle of mineral water in her left hand. , stretched out her right hand to me: "Come, let me pull you away!" I knew that she was a girl from the same tour group as me, and she seemed to have graduated from the Beijing Institute of Physical Education in Zhengzhou, Henan, but we usually didn't talk. At that time, this girl I had never met before reached out to me with a warm hand in the world, didn't she? I was moved by a huge power, took her warm hand, stood up, and continued to move forward, but my heart was filled with waves. Fever, who said there is no warmth in the world, kind people always exist. With the help of the girl from Zhengzhou, I walked for more than an hour. I was like a heavy baggage, adding to her burden. Seeing her steps gradually becoming heavier, no matter what, I did not want to be held by her hand and walked forward. Every time she takes a step forward, she has to put in double the effort! I only handed her the mineral water and resolutely let her go first. The wind and rain were overwhelming, and the future was uncertain. I struggled to lift my feet, which were like lead, and moved step by step. My legs felt like they were nailed into iron weights. The pain was unbearable. I kept encouraging myself in my heart: keep walking. Go on, hold on! The tour guide said: "It is true that few people go down the mountain, especially this road, but due to a heavy rain that has not happened in a century, the entire Tunxi District of Huangshan City has been submerged, and we can only stay in the hotel when we reach the bottom of the mountain." I I screamed in my heart that I was wronged. I couldn't see Huangshan and couldn't go back to Tunxi. I could only live at the foot of the mountain and wait for the hard days. I fell down on the roadside again, like a deflated rubber ball, and my whole body went limp. When I got down, I couldn’t walk anymore. "If you believe me, please give me your bag." A rich baritone sounded in my ears. I raised my head and saw the face of a middle-aged man with sincere eyes. Why don't you believe it? I handed him the bag containing money, belongings and camera without hesitation. The middle-aged man encouraged me again: "Don't stop, walk slowly." I struggled to stand up, all my burdens were removed, and I felt much more relaxed. Finally, I walked with the support of this huge power of human warmth and encouragement. Arrived at the foot of the mountain. The girl from Zhengzhou handed me the mineral water with concern, and the middle-aged man also packed up his travel bag and returned to Zhao. The moment I took the things with both hands, I only said two condensed words to them: Thank you! . And my legs couldn't get out of bed at all during the few days I lived at the foot of Huangshan Mountain waiting for my return trip. Many years have passed, and life repeats itself day by day. Sometimes, when my friends doubt that there is warmth in the world and outsiders cannot be trusted, I will tell them about this experience, hoping that people can learn something from it. The truth is, after all, there are many kind people in this world, and there are also sincere people. It is up to you to distinguish them.