Grandpa’s diary composition

Grandpa’s Diary Composition

In daily study, work or life, everyone has tried to write a composition. The composition must be focused on the theme and provide in-depth explanations around the same theme. , avoid rambling, the topic is scattered or even has no topic. So how to write a good composition? Below is the composition of my grandfather’s diary that I compiled. You are welcome to share it.

Grandpa’s Diary Composition 1

Opening the yellowed diary, every word is deeply imprinted in my heart.

That summer, grandpa left quietly without leaving a word. Looking at the cold coffin placed in the hall, lying inside was my grandfather, a relative who had no warmth. How I wish he could say a word to me again, even if it is nagging and scolding; how I wish he could hold my little hand with his warm big hand again and walk on the way to school.

On the way to the crematorium, my family handed me an old and yellowed diary, with "Dear Baby" written deeply in pen on it. When I opened the first page, I was surprised to find a picture of me eating with a dirty mouth when I was a child. My grandfather also added a message next to it: Dear baby, you are five years old this year. Seeing how greedy you are, please remember, There are many temptations in the world, so you must not go against your conscience and be an honest person!

Looking at every word and sentence, memories come flooding back.

"Dear baby, I'm sorry, I didn't help you when you fell. I wanted you to get up strong." I was nine years old at that time. I loved to play and jumped around the yard. , climbed up on the chair, accidentally fell off the chair, and cried loudly. You were sitting in the rocking chair still drinking tea. No matter how I asked for help, you always turned away and ignored me. I think you must want to come and help me, but you can't forget the creed of your education.

Tears fell on the diary and spread into flowers. Each flower represents each story. Each story records the traces of my growth under the influence of family rules and training.

When I failed in the exam, I was scolded

For a while, I wrote down my inner struggles in my diary. "Dear baby, grandpa shouldn't scold you so harshly today. But, do you know that a horse cannot run fast without being whipped; a tree without being beaten by wind and rain cannot grow into a towering tree..."; When I received the honor, I was neither praised nor happy, but my inner pride was clearly revealed in my diary, "Dear baby, do you know how happy grandpa is for you today? You are more proud than grandpa when he won the production model..." Grandpa He hoped that I would make a difference when I grew up. His expectations and hopes for me were all written in his diary, but he just hid them somewhere where I couldn't see him.

Grandpa, why didn’t you tell me earlier? But even if I can't read it, I have truly felt that every step of my progress and every growth of mine is imprinted with your family rules and training?

I suddenly remembered Man Wenjun’s "Understanding You": "I want to be with you so much, and tell you how much I love you in my heart. The flowers bloom quietly, in the night when I suddenly miss you, I want to tell you so much that you have always been my miracle... I want to be close to you and tell you that I have always understood you."

Grandpa's diary tells about family tradition and rules, and records me. The growth of... Holding my grandfather's diary in my hand, I thought silently in my heart: Grandpa, please don't worry, I will definitely keep in mind the family rules and mottos, and be an honest, strong, and accomplished person! Grandpa's Diary Composition 2

The memory in my mind has not been erased, and the heavy figure on my back is still fresh in my memory. Under the big banyan tree, a familiar figure was slowly thinking about the past...

A burst of harsh bird calls broke the tranquility of the morning, and the sun lazily released its light, making the world appear very harmonious. The big banyan tree also woke up, spread out its branches, showered the morning light, and had a secret exchange with the sun. A tall and trembling old man walked down the stairs step by step, stumbling, and lay under the big banyan tree in front of him. A ray of soft sunshine shines on him, making him look particularly amiable. He is my grandfather.

I also walked to him from home and chatted with him. We passed the time and spent the morning like this every day.

Opening the desk drawer, there is a yellowed diary inside. The corners of the pages are slightly tilted, but the words inside are still clear. This is his diary. This diary not only contains text, but also some photos of the past events between me and him. It contains our memories. Looking at it, I can't help but have endless aftertaste. At that time, I was naive and naive. I never knew how to be obedient. I was indulged in the joy of games all day long. Playing with my childhood friends has become a daily routine. Although my grandfather kept reminding me, I still didn't care very much. Gradually, as I grew up, I began to understand my family’s intentions, so I would chat and laugh with him under the banyan tree every morning.

I like the time I spend with my grandpa in the early morning, and I also like to go fishing with him in the river in the park on weekends. I also like to walk with him on the path in the forest, breathing in the breath of nature, and talking with him. Life’s intimate embrace. This diary is life to me. I seem to see that kind smile and that staggering step...

However, now that he is leaving me and going to work in another place, this obviously means a lot to me. It was an injury, an unusual injury, but I wasn't too sad because I didn't know what kind of heart I had to face such a thing. The person who was going to leave eventually left, and I couldn't help but feel a little nostalgic. I picked up the yellowed diary in my hand and couldn't help but burst into tears, but I didn't shed any tears because I wanted to believe that he would still come back.

Opening the diary again, reminiscing about the happiness of my childhood, the memories stored in the mornings seemed to break through my mind again, and the warm pictures appeared in front of me again, in the warm atmosphere. Under the morning light, we were chatting and narrating happy things; or in the afterglow of dusk, accompanying him on the forest path to appreciate the last golden light of the earth, a feeling of comfort and peace; or under the bright starlight The night light, accompanied by bright eyes, passionately tells the past events of childhood... ;