I want to search for writing character compositions.

In the community where I live, there is an ordinary milkman, an uncle in his forties.

The uncle's dark skin can be seen at a glance as the result of years of sun exposure. On his serrated face, there are a pair of small and intense eyes.

There are three subscribers in our building, two on the fifth floor and one on the sixth floor. The subscriber on the sixth floor is our home.

Six floors, the next trip up and down, it is tiring to take nothing, not to mention the milkman still holding so many bottles. Moreover, the milk bottle is round and slippery, and several bottles will be broken if you are not careful. Most people will put it downstairs when they see this situation. This uncle is not like this. Every afternoon at six o'clock, he always delivers milk to the subscriber's door on time, and then shouts "milk!" in the knock knock.

Winter is coming, and the weather is getting colder and colder. No matter whether it is windy or snowy, at six o'clock every afternoon, there will always be familiar footsteps and loud door calls in the corridor, "Here comes the milk!"

In the evening when the cold wind roared, the uncle came to deliver milk again. When I took the bottle, I found that his hands had been crumpled by the ruthless wind, like the skin of an old pine tree. I was very surprised. Why didn't I wear gloves? No money to buy gloves or too busy to buy gloves? Why don't I give him a pair? The next day, he came to deliver milk again, and I finally couldn't help asking him. He said kindly, "Look, there is a layer of water outside this bottle. If you wear gloves, the bottle will easily slip. " Oh, great! I sighed in my heart: in order not to break the bottle, the milkman went naked in winter, which is really admirable! Mom said this is a kind of professionalism, which is worth learning from each of us.

Uncle Milkman, you are the person I admire most.

I remember another winter morning, it was very cold. In order to keep out the cold, my friends and I went skating by the river. I accidentally fell into the lime pit. I tried to lift my feet, but my boots were full of lime. I can't wear them. I resolutely took off my boots and prepared to let my mother wash them for me. I thought again: My mother will criticize me. Finally, I came up with a pair of shoes. When the weather is a little warmer, I'll wash my boots. But there's no sign of them under the door. I was so anxious that I almost cried. After a while, I calmed down and went to look elsewhere. As soon as I found the back door, I heard the familiar sound of "swish, swish, swish". Isn't that the sound of my mother's hands working? I followed the sound. In the yard, I found my mother who was washing my boots. Her hand was red with cold and cracked several times. Although it was very cold, there were still a few glittering and translucent beads of sweat slipping from my mother's cheek. I walked up to her, grabbed the brush for brushing my boots and said, "Mom, I'll wash it." Mother said with concern, "Zhen Zhen, I'll wash it."

Perhaps at the intersection of everyone in Qian Fan, there will be countless colorful sails and shadows floating by, which will always make our hearts move with the endless running water, let our eyes walk with the boundless beauty, and at the same time let our thoughts be baptized by invisible wind and rain.