Father, I understand you (1)

He leaned against the corner and rubbed his wrinkled leather shoes with a towel in his hand. It was raining in the sky, splashing on his feet, splashing inconspicuous smaller drops of water. Sweat muddy rain fell from his sharp chin, and the hair stained with rain reflected the vast sea of light, but still could not prevent people from seeing white hair. But his eyes were still focused on the leather shoes, wiping them again and again to make them show the luster when they were just bought. I moved closer and hit my umbrella on his head. He didn't notice anything and went on working. "Ah!" he sighed. Then he looked up and suddenly found that I was standing beside him, covering the rain in the air for him. He was surprised and at a loss. The expression on his face seemed twisted, like a smile of thanks, or a blush of embarrassment. Nodding to me, he hurried away. He walked in a panic. He accidentally stepped into a mud puddle and the shoes that had just shown a little anger became like a tramp again.

I looked at his embarrassed figure and hesitating steps. Although he had a slightly bent back, he had a resolute figure that was very like my father. I could not help but roll up tears in my eyes about to burst the dike. Could my father, who is far away, hold an umbrella for him? In the sea of people coming and going, what kind of vicissitudes did the middle-aged man who bent down experience.

I have already burst into tears, which may seem strange to others, but I feel extremely relieved. Father! I know you.

Father, I understand you (2)

Father is old. He is nearly half a year old. My father, who worked hard for our family day and night, has been gradually bent by the years.

After the last midterm exam, I was fined for failing to meet my mother's requirements - I can't play computer before the final exam! To show her determination, my mother even took down the computer and put it in the basement. At that time, I had nothing to say, bowed my head and acquiesced in bad luck, while my father smoked non-stop without saying a word.

From that day on, I was sad every day, and I locked myself in the room to study hard after school. From my mother's words, I knew that she was satisfied with my attitude, but my father was still silent.

Last Friday night, when I was about to go to bed, my father came in. He mysteriously walked to my bed and lowered his voice: "I have repaired the computer for you. It's in the basement. When I go to work with your mother tomorrow, you will play and relax..." I was so happy that I almost jumped out of bed, gave my father a big hug, and said repeatedly: "My father knows me!" Father smiled, "Stop making trouble and go to sleep."

The next morning, my parents went out to work, and I ran to the basement happily, right? The computer that had been completely assembled was waving to me! It was early winter and the basement was cold. I shivered and sat down beside the computer. But when I grabbed the mouse, I suddenly felt guilty. It's hard for me to imagine how my father, who is only half a year old, got up quietly on a cold winter night and squatted in the basement like an ice cellar trying to assemble a computer by the dim light. He may have stayed up for a long time that night.

Since I was in junior high school, my grades have been unsatisfactory, but my father never blamed me, and he also comforted me: "Don't worry, it's good to have fun learning." Maybe my father is like this. No matter how dissatisfied the child is, he doesn't want to blame the child at all. He still puts the child's happiness and anger first for many years, and has no regrets about working for the child.

The figure of my father's assembling computer kept appearing in front of my eyes, and my heart became guilty and uneasy. I only blamed myself for being so ungrateful.

That day, instead of playing computer, I went back to my room and began to work harder to endorse. I must fight for my father's voice and improve my grades. Father, I begin to understand you.

Father, I understand you (3)

The night is deep, and the lights behind the window are out one by one. Only the bright moon is embedded in the sky, illuminating the night, giving people peace and quiet.

I was sitting at my desk writing a composition. I was so upset because I couldn't find inspiration. When the fire was in my heart, my father who accompanied me leaned back in the chair and fell asleep. I was even more angry. I slapped the table and woke him up.

"I still accompany me with my homework. I'm not trustworthy!"

I clearly saw my father's tiredness and apology in his eyes, but the hateful I was aggressive: "Go to sleep when you are tired, and don't accompany me here!" My father looked like a scolded pupil, bowed his head but kept silent, and the apology in his eyes was even more obvious.

I threw my pen on the ground again and shouted, "No more writing!" I went to the bedroom and lay down.

I don't know how long it took me to go back to my study and continue writing. Seeing the empty chair, he snorted and ignored it. After writing, I washed and went to bed.

At midnight, I got up to drink water. Suddenly I saw the light on in the study, walked over, saw my father holding this in his hand, drawing and writing something in my composition, and still talking about something in his mouth. At this time, I saw my father's hair was a little silvery white, his eyes were wrinkled, and his clothes on his back were full of salt stains left by sweat... His eyes seemed uncomfortable, and he always rubbed them, probably because of high blood pressure

Slowly returned to the bedroom, I nestled in the bed, quietly sobbing.

Father, I don't understand you! You are usually so busy with your work. You come back late every day and are very tired. It's good to accompany me to do my homework. With high blood pressure, I try to be considerate of my thoughtless child

thank you! Father. You have to take care of my life after your busy work every day. It's not easy to care about my study. I also know how to be grateful, but I am not good at expressing. I really want to say to you: "Dad, you have worked hard! In fact, I understand you! I will always love you“

Father, I understand you (4)

He leaned against the corner and rubbed his wrinkled leather shoes with a towel in his hand. It was raining in the sky, splashing on his feet, splashing inconspicuous smaller drops of water. Sweat muddy rain fell from his sharp chin, and the hair stained with rain reflected the vast sea of light, but still could not prevent people from seeing white hair. But his eyes were still fixed on the leather shoes, wiping them again and again, trying to make them show the luster when they were just bought. I moved closer and hit my umbrella on his head. He didn't notice anything and continued the work at hand. "Alas!" he sighed. Then he looked up and suddenly found that I was standing beside him, covering the rain in the air for him. He was surprised and at a loss. The expression on his face seemed twisted, like a smile of thanks, or a blush of embarrassment. Nodding to me, he hurried away. He walked in a panic. He accidentally stepped into a mud pit. The shoes that had just shown anger became like a drifter again.

I looked at his embarrassed figure and hesitating footsteps. Although he had a slightly bent back, he was also very resolute, like my father. In my eyes, I could not help turning the tears that were about to burst the dike. Could someone hold an umbrella for my father who was far away? In the sea of people coming and going, what kind of vicissitudes had the middle-aged man who bent down.

I have already burst into tears, which may seem strange to others, but I feel extremely relieved. Father! I know you.

Father, I understand you (5)

Father, I understand your composition in Grade Three

In daily study, work or life, everyone has dealt with composition. Composition is a genre composed of words, which expresses a theme through thinking and language organization. I believe that writing a composition is a headache for many people. The following is the father who made up for everyone. I understand your composition in the third day of junior high for reference only. I hope it can help everyone.

"Where is the synthesis of sorrow, leaving people's hearts to fall", the autumn wind suddenly appeared, we ushered in autumn among the falling leaves, and came to the season that can most remind us of missing.

Flowing clouds seem to be on the mind of the sky. They drift past in a faint way. Ripples seem to be on the mind of the pond. In this season that can affect people's hearts, my heart has also played a layer of ripples, and I began to miss my father in Xinjiang.

Now I really want to say to my father, "Dad, I understand you. I used to be so ignorant." My father is like the father of most families: busy with work and not good at words. So there is little communication between us. Therefore, I have been unable to understand the meaning of fatherly love. Just read in the book: Father's love is like a mountain, deep and steady. Father's love only exists in my childhood memory, and now there is only awe.

During the summer vacation, I came to Xinjiang. The crowded exit was full of happy and happy faces. I was stabbed - my uncle picked me up. Standing at the exit, I suddenly felt at a loss. I felt so small and helpless. Thinking about it, my nose was sore and I almost cried.

I went home with my uncle and finally met my parents. Mom was very excited. When she saw me, she kept on nagging: "Your father talked about you every day. He used to call you, and he always wanted to say something." After listening to this, I coldly hummed: "Why don't you want me to pick me up?" I thought to myself: Every time I call my father, he is silent instead of words, isn't it extravagant? Dad seemed to want to say something, but he didn't say anything. I just played with my sister.

In this way, the summer vacation is almost over, and my father and I haven't said much. At the beginning, I could say a few words, but at the end, he asked me a question and I answered, without too much words. At the end of the summer vacation, my mother asked my father to take me to the construction site. On the one hand, it can let me have more communication with my father, on the other hand, let me hone on the construction site. Dad agreed. However, after arriving at the construction site, my father said that the construction site would not allow children to run around and let me sit in the car and wait. I waited on the bus for nearly two hours, but my father didn't come back. I closed the door and walked back angrily. My mother asked me why, but I didn't say anything and fell asleep.

A few days later, I had only two days to go back. Mom and Dad finally decided to put down their work and accompany me out to play. Early in the morning, my father came back from the construction site without rest, so he hurried to take us to the Ili River to play. My sister and I had a good time, and my parents laughed happily. We rode horses, took boats and played a lot. One of the things I remember most clearly is riding a horse. Dad rented a horse, but I couldn't ride it. Dad led the horse, and my sister and I sat on it. My mother just took photos happily. Suddenly, my mother said jokingly, "Isn't Monk Sha holding the horse for Monk Tang?". I suddenly remembered the story of father and son riding donkeys. The son rode and the father led. Passers by said that the son was not filial. I suddenly became uneasy. I begged my father to stop and go by myself. The ripples in my heart are rippling away one by one: recently my father always said that his legs hurt, but he still insisted on taking my horse so far. Dad was at the construction site last night and didn't sleep all night. Today he took us out to play. Suddenly I understood the words in the book: Father's love is like a mountain, deep and steady. He doesn't always talk about love like his mother, but being deep is another expression of love! I was young and foolish, but I never noticed! He always supports the whole family in silence and pays for me in silence. Thinking of this, my tears could not help flowing down.

Leaves fall in succession, reminding me of the cold feeling of early winter. Tears run down my cheeks. Dad, understand that your son has grown up. The cape is very close, and I will not be frivolous when I am young. A thousand miles away, our father and son will work together for you, for me, and for our family.

Father, I understand you (6)

You stand in silence. Although you are unknown, I can read you and understand you. Although you are not good at words and silent dedication, I misunderstood you. Although your love for me has been ignored by me again and again, you still care about me and encourage me as always, just like the fragrant soil.

I have already memorized the word father, but the meaning of fatherly love is elusive.

My father has loved drinking since I can't remember. I don't know how delicious the spicy food is. Perhaps because wine can make people forget the burden of life, forget all the sad things. My father and mother didn't know how many quarrels they had over wine, so I was hostile to my father since I was young. Whenever my father saw me, he always kept his head down wordlessly.

At that time, the father and mother quarreled again. The father needed money to buy wine, but the mother refused. As a result, they fought fiercely. In anger, the father closed the door heavily, leaving the mother alone crying in the living room. I hated my father very much. I swore that I would teach him a lesson one day. On that day, my father was not at home. I mustered the courage to teach my father a lesson. I went to my father's study and saw his precious wine like gold. Suddenly, an idea came into my mind: I would pour out all the wine. But when I opened the bottle cap, I was shocked. It turned out that what was in the bottle was not wine, but colorless and tasteless pure water.

My heart moved. I went to my father's desk, opened the box secretly, and took out my father's diary. The words in it impressed me deeply.

"Today, I quarreled with my wife again because of the wine. In fact, I hid the wine money in the bottom of the bedside table, in the box on the right at the bottom. Maybe my son will hate me, but I'm not worried. I know that one day my son will understand my good intentions."

Seeing these words, my eyes moistened, and a feeling of guilt arose spontaneously.

People always say: Father's love is like a mountain, silent. That day, my father sent me and my classmates to Shanghai to play at the station. Students are bragging about how good my father is, but I can only be depressed. A classmate said that my father would certainly look at us with concern when turning the corner. I looked at my father's back, really? When my father was about to turn a corner, he suddenly threw an imperceptible 'look'. When I met my father's eyes, I understood him. At that moment, my dusty memory suddenly thawed out, and my love burst out, spreading all over my body, warm and sweet.

Father, read your helplessness in life, read your silence, and I read your love for me.

I know you because I am your son.

Father, I understand you (7)

Time flies, and we have been father and son for more than ten years unknowingly. In this vast sea of people, you are my true bosom friend. However, I really know you and understand you only in the evening after the rain.

It was a Friday evening. You took me back from school. Walking on the road, I saw the shining golden light, as well as your long back in front. My heart feels that you are beautiful and somewhat desolate.

When I got home, I tossed my schoolbag to the ground, changed a pair of basketball shoes, grabbed the ball, and flew out of the door. Father, your expression has changed a little, but as before, it is so complicated and unpredictable. Suddenly, I heard you yelling angrily behind me: "Come back! Go out to play and see what the test is!" I originally wanted to take this opportunity to vent my depression and pressure. So I had a dispute with you

The sky outside the window darkened, and the wind became crazy.

I have lost my reputation. However, this week, they were invited to speak at bedtime. So I can naturally feel your dissatisfaction. I am the client. How can my mood be quieter than yours?

... Your hand fell on my face. I was surprised, angry and sad, so I slammed the door and walked out without looking back.

There was a thunderbolt in the sky, one or two drops of rain... It was raining harder and harder. I wandered aimlessly on the road, not knowing where to go.

I don't know when I came to the garden where I first talked with you. The rain is easing off. I went to a chair in the corner and sat down in a daze. I don't know when the rain stopped. I saw you carrying an umbrella and a package, while you were like a drowned rat. You anxiously look around while shouting my nickname. I sat there quietly, watching your every move, watching you leave. The garden is so quiet after the rain, and I can see that the street in the distance is still so busy and colorful.

Suddenly, I felt a chill and found that the clock on my watch was between eleven and twelve. I think it's time to go home.

When you get downstairs, you see that the light in your home is still on, and you are just smoking one cigarette after another.

Back home, you looked up at me, full of surprises, but did not say anything. Look at home: there is a number book with my classmate's phone number beside the phone. There are two or three empty cigarette boxes beside the ashtray. A corner of my sweater is exposed in the package

Looking up at you again, your eyes are red and swollen, and silver has climbed on your temples

I resisted the tears in my eyes, washed and slept.

I understand you, understand that your thoughtfulness, care and love are contained in every move without words; I understand you, understand that you are able to express everything with your eyes; I understand you, understand the voice of a strict father - I hope my son can make a difference; I understand that you are the most important person in my life

I know you - father!

Father, I understand you (8)

I looked at his embarrassed figure and hesitating steps. Although he had a slightly bent back, he had a resolute figure that was very like my father. I could not help but roll up tears in my eyes about to burst the dike. Could my father, who is far away, hold an umbrella for him? In the sea of people coming and going, what kind of vicissitudes did the middle-aged man who bent down experience.

I have already burst into tears, which may seem strange to others, but I feel extremely relieved. Father! I know you.