Diary > the growing pains of diary in grade one_ Love is a strange thing. It often appears in our side, love is divided into many kinds: maternal love is selfless, great; paternal love is another great; what is the true meaning of love? Diary Diary of grade one
First grade: ye Kaiqiang's composition on Growth: troubles of growth 9_ Growing up is a necessary stage for every child. In the process of growing up, every child has missed growing up and looked forward to growing up.
But in this growth, there are endless troubles, and we have to go through thousands of disasters. And these 'disasters' have sown US seeds that are frightening and' difficult to grow '.
In the expectation of teachers and parents, I believe everyone must be under great pressure, and I am no exception! Always looking forward to the future. If you really want to have the monkey king's magic weapon "the cloud of somersault", a somersault will fly to the realization of the desire in your heart.
I have been doing well, do you think I have trouble? I can achieve my goal just because I stick to it, but the goal in my heart always feels that I failed.
Although my parents believe me, they don't expect much of me, as long as I try my best. However, my mind is always entangled with the trouble, always let me feel that my ability not only to play to this' humble 'level.
However, those who are smart and don't want to remind me always don't tell me, but they always give me a timely help to see on TV that it's hard for college students to find a job without a doctorate. To put it mildly, I'm afraid I will be disappointed if I come out to work with my present ability,
I try to pay special attention in class, try my best to think with the teacher's ideas.
I also try to finish the homework assigned by the teacher very carefully. I write every word carefully and think about every word carefully.
I've even tried to draw a picture every day to encourage myself. My heart of self-improvement beats me and pushes me to make progress. My parents and brothers often encourage me with their hearts.
But the trouble told me: 'your efforts are not enough, you should work harder; but I hope I can work harder, not too hastily, and not' pull out the seedlings to encourage '; but I have been working hard, I hope that the beautiful vision in my heart can be achieved, and I hope that the trouble that always reminds me and makes me hate will leave me.
Here, I would like to advise the troubled children in the world: you must hope to bid farewell to the melancholy and troublesome "trouble" as soon as possible. Then, you must remember one sentence: if you don't work hard when you are young, you will be sad when you are old.
When we grow up, we will throw up our doctoral (Master's) Diploma and jump up happily
Let's say goodbye to our troubles. Let's get close to our troubles when we grow up. Let's say goodbye to our troubles when we grow up_ 500 words in the process of growing up, we have been happy and worried. If you want to be happy, you are welcome to pay attention to wechat: www 4hw to get more knowledge. Worry is just a thought, but it is still difficult for us to get rid of it. Our life is indeed full of seven colors of sunshine, however, even when the sun is shining, it is inevitable that there will be short-term clouds.
As a child, spring, summer, autumn and winter have their own charm. When spring flowers bloom, you can see my happy sweat when I fly a kite in the square; when summer cicadas sing, you can see the colorful water splashing around me when I swim; when autumn maple flies down, you can see my bouncing figure on the path covered with red maple; when winter wind blows, you can see my happy smile in the garden. There was warm winter sunshine all around.
With the passage of time, I gradually grew up, the four seasons are still the same color, but there is no charm of the past, as if they are all the same, every day as if doing the same thing - get up, go to school, go to bed.
Weekend, no longer belong to their own, all kinds of cram schools follow closely. Life, less laughter, less happiness, more trouble, more melancholy.
When spring blossoms, there is no longer time to enjoy, to see the sky full of kites, there is a kind of inexplicable sadness, I carry a heavy schoolbag walking on the way to school; in the summer cicadas, the sultry air is full of the whole sky, sweat instead of tears constantly flow down, in the hot summer season, I am about to suffocate, the laughter in the swimming pool seems to be just a dream, sometimes feel Cicada's neighing is also a kind of ridicule; when autumn maple flies and falls, there is no clear sound of stepping on maple leaves, the path is quiet, and occasionally the wind helps me, which makes me think that maybe the clear sound is just imagination; when the winter wind blows, there is no warm sunshine, only the gloomy sky and the piercing wind, and the bare branches outside the window are like the long hands of an old witch, so I can only let go Under the bag, struggling in the sea, rain, who is crying?. The only way to let me fly is to give up the happiness of my dream.