Composition with the theme of "Walking with Love",

Walking with love

(1) Everyone has experienced love. Everyone in this world is either receiving love from others or giving love to others. What is cute? It's hard for us to tell clearly.

What is love? Different people, different things, and different perspectives have different answers. Children say that love is a mother's embrace, solid and warm; young people say that love is the years of burning passion; old people say that love is holding hands and growing old together; the wind says that love is the fresh green blown by the breeze; Rain says, love is the silent beat that moistens things; cloud says, love is the freedom and tolerance of the blue sky; grass says, love is the repayment of the three spring lights of the earth; time says, love is the eternity of beautiful things in the world; I say, love is life. Forever theme song!

Love is the whisper when you are lingering, love is the helplessness of taking it but being able to put it down, love is sweet and makes people intoxicated; love is painful and makes people sad, love is mixed with emotions. Mixed with acid. sweet. bitter. hot. Salty taste of the world.

Love is tenderness, it should be in the sunshine and should not be in the film; love is tears, whether it is bitter or sweet, it should and should not be love in the end.

Love is the thread in the mother’s hand and the clothes on the wanderer’s body; love is the worry of the mother when her son travels thousands of miles; love is the waiting that is still eager to see through the thousands of sails; love is the lovesickness of the night without you when there are stars and moon; love is It means that the heart will remain chaotic if it is not cleaned up; love is a burning passion but also a dull day.

Love is Cupid’s divine arrow, which can make the heart bleed; love is Shennong’s fine seed, which can prevent the heart from becoming barren; love is rose-colored, which can cheer people up, inspire them, and even Create miracles in the world; love is black, it can make people feel like they are in a sea of ??suffering, and there is no light, it can make people feel like they are facing an abyss, and it can cause people to be destroyed.

Love is the presence of me in you and you in me. Love is the connection between your heart and my heart. Love is the desire to exchange my life's efforts for your life's happiness. Love is the dependence in good times. The state of supporting each other in adversity.

Love is selfless, it can be selfless and selfless in the heart, it is a wish that as long as you live a better life than me; it also sacrifices my feelings for a billion happy people.

Love is natural, it can make people wear a hairpin or a sarong, or have a simple meal. As long as it is sincere and sincere, it is enough to make people intoxicated.

Love is social and national. It can gather wisdom, gather strength, and transcend all obstacles. Love is the most unique attribute of human beings.

A mother’s love can hold up her child’s future, and the love of Chinese children can create a brilliant future for our nation!

Despite the impermanence of the world and the vicissitudes of life, love should be the eternal theme song of life.

(2) From the moment we are born, we begin our own unique life journey and experience the colorful life. Love, like a beating note, travels with us all the way. When we are enjoying a wonderful life, do you know that there are still many people in this world who cannot enjoy the beauty of life and the passion of nature. They are disabled people.

People with disabilities are lowly people in people's eyes. When people see disabled people, instead of helping them, they point fingers at them and make fun of them. Do you know how much damage your trivial actions can do to their souls and dignity? Disabled people are human beings too! If not for various reasons, would they be like this now?

Helen. Keller said: "The most beautiful things in the world cannot necessarily be seen with the eyes or touched with the hands. They must be experienced with the heart." It is indeed the case. Although disabled people have some physical defects, they Their lives are also colorful and there is happiness in their lives.

Beethoven was born into poverty. He studied music with his father since he was a child. He started playing at the age of 8 and became deaf at the age of 50. However, he had great ideals and overcame various difficulties. Through his efforts, he created many excellent works throughout his life, which were deeply loved by people all over the world. His achievements had a huge impact on the development of European music and art at the same time and in the future.

Zhang Haidi became paralyzed at the age of 5.

But she never gave up on living. She kept making progress and learned Japanese, German, English and Esperanto. She also tried her best to help the young people around her, encouraging them to love life, cherish their youth, study hard to serve the people, and contribute their light and heat to the prosperity of the motherland. Many young people went to college with her encouragement. Zhang Haidi sang the song of life in his wheelchair: The value of a person's life lies in his brave pioneering and selfless dedication to the prosperity of the motherland and the happiness of the people. All this shows that disabled people are not weaker than us.

As long as there is life, there is hope in life. Let us walk with love together!

(3) I always want to extract the tidbits of life and form them into many new works to create an extraordinary story and a great love to move myself and my friends. To comfort my desire to like words.

I am searching silently, looking for the touch that makes me cry; looking for the splendor in life; looking for the extraordinary story. When I find traces of them, I tell myself to enrich them and perfect them. I constantly enrich their content, trying to give them the most permanent color and render them extremely beautiful and perfect. They are just silent, stranded, waiting, staying in my heart.

I think I am good at designing. I want my works to go through the morning when the sky is full of morning glow; to harvest the afterglow of the evening; to welcome the spring with brilliant mountain flowers; to linger in the summer when the night is late; to kiss the frost-stained maple leaves goodbye. season; embracing the winter that only belongs to the brave. I also want them to verify the wind and rain of the years; to appreciate the essence of the seasons; to accompany the owner's youth; to carve the rings of time; to record the helplessness of life; to treasure the eternal theme. I want to use all the gorgeous words to weave that extraordinary story and that great love. I was immersed in such a grand idea and felt very proud.

Just when I thought I had found them and put them on paper, I felt that they were too plain, as plain as water. I gave them up. Pick it up again and again, give up again and again. I think their birth should have a sensational effect. At the very least it should be magical, gorgeous and extraordinary. They are stories worthy of my companionship and love. I hope their lives will last forever, and they will be mine forever.

In this way, in the constant search, I spent the time of repeatedly denying the ordinary. While searching, I found that ordinary stories were like shooting stars, streaking across the night sky, leaving a moment of brilliance before disappearing into the vast horizon. Their edges have been worn away by the daily necessities of life, they have become dull, disappeared, and their colors are mottled.

When I looked back on the days of searching, I was silent, silent without uttering a word; when I picked up the footprints and enriched the rings of time, I was at a loss, and I couldn't help myself. Where are you with the hurried steps, tears and extraordinary stories?

I want to pick up a sharp sword, cut through the haze, look for a sunny tomorrow, and look for extraordinary stories; I want to scream and shock all living beings with excess love; and pile it into stories. I want to recite, engraved with the words woven with passion, which is the most charming language I use, and I want to sing the praises of the extraordinary. The ideal me has broken down in writing and has been stranded. Falling deeper and deeper into the quagmire of the extraordinary, where is the emotion? Where is the extraordinary?

The hard work of searching took a lot of time. Even if I had a few words, I was strangled in my infancy. I was tired, tired, gave up, and no longer had that extravagant hope.

I returned to the ordinary life, to the symphony of daily necessities. I feel much calmer and can now look at the world in an ordinary way. Really live in the ordinary, no longer blindly pursue those gorgeous words, look for that extraordinary story, and create that generous gift. Slowly, slowly, I feel that every fulfilling day is so respectable. I love them and they treat me well. Nature is so beautiful, and magic is contained in every bit of it; who said stories are hard to find, it turns out it is in our lives.

Love is in the world, love is ordinary!

When the white-haired couple supports each other, strolls along the path in the park, looking at each other silently, recalling the ups and downs of half a century, love is in their eyes; when the mother uses her life to In exchange for the miracle of ten-month birth, love is in the mother's arms; when the teacher shows the naughty students with loving eyes and says "Teacher, I was wrong", love is in their words; when the seventy-year-old son, Send the breeze to the face of the old mother, and love is in the fluttering cattail fan; when the young couple puts the little doll on their lover's pillow, love flows in the sweet dream; ah! This is the story of life, this is the story of love, this is the gift I am looking for. It turns out they are in ordinary life, and I finally found them!

Ordinary stories are like stars twinkling, ordinary stories are like mountain flowers. Each one is so bright and touching; each one is so beautiful and fragrant. There are no traces of carving or deliberate polishing. They are everywhere, everywhere. Each story breeds true love in the world, releases the light of love, and touches ordinary people. Ordinary things breed greatness, they are bitter, spicy, sour and sweet, they are daily necessities, they are daily necessities!

Every year is ordinary, every year is full of love. Let us pick up the string of ordinary stories and let us freeze love in the moments of life. Ordinaryness is love, love walks with us!

Because of love, there is sunshine and rain in the world; because of knowing how to cherish, there are flowers, plants and trees in the world. People's happy life cannot be separated from harmony, and social stability and unity cannot be separated from harmony. So as long as we start from the little things around us, start from ourselves, learn to respect, learn to be tolerant, learn to help, learn to care, have more care, less disputes, more true feelings, and less conflicts, the world will become a better place. It’s getting better and better. Let us join hands, walk with love, and sing the song of harmony.

(4) Maternal love is an eternal theme of mankind.

We give it too many interpretations and too many connotations.

Without the soul-stirring historical epic, without the shocking reversal of the stormy sea, maternal love is like a spring rain, a clear song, moisturizing things silently, long and long.

Contemporary essayist Yu Qiuyu wrote in an article: "The starting point of all travelers is always to say goodbye to their mother... and their end point is aging... Old people in their twilight years have to call their mothers. It is touching that one cry ends the return and ends the wandering."

"I am in my mother's arms, my mother is in the boat, and the boat is in the moonlit sea." There is a stern atmosphere in the light. This is the love my mother gives me.

When my eyes are confused and innocent, my mother’s care is the most memorable thing. The burden of knowledge is so heavy, and in the middle of the night, it is the shadow of my mother who accompanies me in studying.

Mother's love is deep red, a deep red sea. Although it is surging occasionally, it is love that is too deep. When it is calm, it is always gentle. When you touch the sea water, you will deeply feel the hot liquid, which is warm all the time.

With maternal love, mankind can move from desolation to civilization and prosperity; with maternal love, society can move from indifference and severity to peace and health; with maternal love, we can move from sadness to singing, from stubbornness to wisdom; With maternal love, there is the beginning of life, the continuation of history, the emergence of reason, and the return of humanity.

"Sneaking into the night with the wind, moistening things silently." The trickling maternal love nourishes our lives like the drizzle. When we walk into the school, pick up the pen, and record the notes of love, maternal love is The truest love.

Mother's love is the final destination for wanderers in the world, and it is a clear spring that moisturizes the hearts of children. It accompanies the children's sips and sips, and is continuous and continuous. Therefore, in the shadows of children's laughter and tears, Then blended into the lingering maternal love.

Mother's love is like an idyllic poem, remote, pure, elegant and light;

Mother's love is like a landscape painting, washing away the lead and ornaments, leaving fresh and natural;

Motherly love is like an affectionate song, melodious and melodious, sung softly;

Motherly love is like a gentle wind that blows away the falling snow and brings endless spring.

Maternal love is the laughter that accompanies a lifetime, maternal love is the longing that wanders around the world, maternal love is the concern and anxiety of children before their sick beds, and maternal love is the earnest expectation of their children's growth.

When you think of your mother, your low aspirations will turn into high spirits; when you think of your mother, your wasted years will turn into pride; when you think of your mother, a wandering wanderer will start to wish to return home; when you think of your mother, you will start to wish to return home. Without my mother, my wandering and helpless soul has found a home.

Time is like water, and the years are fleeting. The years fade away so many of our memories, but they never change our longing for our mother. The orioles return to the swallows, spring passes and autumn comes, the face is getting older and the hair is as white as snow. Children grow up day by day, but mothers age day by day. When the children see their white-haired mother in the high hall, they will fall into their mother's arms and burst into tears!

Motherly love is also an eternal theme in literature and music. When literati use maternal love as their theme, the articles they write are nourishing and informative; when musicians use maternal love as their theme, the tunes they play will be soft and beautiful, with a lingering aftertaste.

"The thread is in the hands of a loving mother, and the clothes are on the body of a wanderer. The seams are thick and tight before leaving, and I am afraid that I will return late. Whoever speaks of the heart of an inch of grass will be rewarded with three rays of spring." Meng Jiao, a poet of the Tang Dynasty, experienced ups and downs, poverty and sorrow, but his mother's smile always haunted him in his dreams. When he learned that his mother was coming, he couldn't hide the smile on his face, couldn't hold back the joy in his heart, shook off the wind and frost on his clothes, brushed away the dust accumulated in his heart, took his wife and children, and went to meet his mother outside the city of Liyang. . The grass is luxuriant, the flowers are fragrant, the white clouds are rolling, and the blue fields and clear rivers are everywhere filled with endless longing for my son. The mother and son depended on each other, with tears in their eyes. They held their mother's warm hands and looked at her old face. They couldn't help but cry with sadness and emotion. They started to write poems, and their emotions surged. In Meng Jiao's pen, he created this poem full of maternal love. "Wandering Son's Song" is sincere and profound and has been recited for thousands of years.

Du Fu, a poet in the Tang Dynasty, lived a life of wandering and uncertainty. When he returned to his hometown after the Anshi Rebellion, the countryside was deserted and things had changed. Desolate and sad, he felt sad when he saw things. He combined his concern for the country and his people with his longing for his mother, and they fed into each other and wrote the touching "No Home Farewell". "My mother has always been in pain and has been sick for five years. She was forced to live in Gouxi for five years. She was unable to give birth to me, and she was sore for the rest of her life. I have no home to live with, so why should I be a steamer?" The words are tragic and desolate, which is enough to make people feel generous and moved. tears.

At the end of the Eastern Han Dynasty, Cai Wenji was kidnapped by the Huns and became a foreign country. When they were redeemed by Han envoys, the mother and son said goodbye with tears in their eyes, and relatives and friends sent each other off, which was desolate and sentimental. She wrote in her "Poetry of Sorrow and Indignation": "Now that I have been relieved, I should abandon my son again. Heaven is in the heart of the people, and there is no time to meet if I miss you... I will cry and touch him with my hands, and I will reply to my doubts." It is sad and sad, and the sound is sad. Reading it makes people cry. People in the Tang Dynasty once used this as a theme to compose Hujia music, which made people feel like weeping and complaining, and they wanted to sing and cry. A kind of mellow mother-child love filled the tunes.

Mother's love is great and selfless. It is immersed in all things and fills the world!

Unfold the long scroll of history, stir up the dust of history, and interpret the lingering love of mother. At that time, the wandering and helpless soul found a home...