1 thought on “Describe my father's composition 10 articles (3)”

  1. This description of my father's composition 8
    father, kind and unfamiliar. If the mother is a golden sunshine, then the father is the insulation bottle with cold and inside.
    This father is a bad person. He had a wide shoulder to cover me and rain, and a pair of rough hands gave me warmth. His love for me may not be as meticulous as my mother's love for me, so care, but I still cherish it.
    The father has a leather jacket, and every time he sees it, he will outline the pattern: in the evening, he can't breathe, and people come out like a fish in the water. My dad and I are no exception. Halfway, the sky was drifting in the sky, and I thought it would stop after a while. I never thought that the rain was getting bigger and bigger. Suddenly, the drums in the sky seemed to break a big hole, and the rain was even more unscrupulous, like a pot of water splashed down. I saw my father quickly took off his leather jacket, trembled, and put on me, and he had only a thin shirt. "It's okay, don't get cold!" This sentence was blowing into my heart like warm wind, and my heart was hot. Dad frowned, holding my hand and rushing forward, and a flower flower splashed on the ground. The rain seemed like a spring water that would not dry up on his back and on his shoulders. The rain soaked my father's clothes and wet my heart. At this time, all kinds of flavors came into my heart, and tears fell quietly. I looked up, and his glasses were covered with water droplets. My sight is blurred. Suddenly I remembered the clips of my father taught me to do the topic. I choked, but the voice was dissolved into the rain. Our back gradually disappeared in the vast rain, and my father's firm eyes stayed in my heart.
    The motherly love is great, and fatherly love also has that unique charm. We are all their hearts. Maternal love is a sweet candy, and fatherly love is a slightly bitter coffee. They have their own aftertastes. They walked forward with our hands together. Although my father is strict, it is also love. We should know how to be grateful and reward, and do not bother with their painstaking efforts.
    Daddy, I love you! My father, thank you for your efforts.
    The composition of my father 9
    "Always ask you, but never say thank you. It is not easy for you to understand that you are not easy until you grow up." Every time you listen to this "Father", you look like my mind.
    is a haze forward, and the mountains are behind. If you want to escape, you can't escape. Fate is dominated. Perseverance will not change. Time, the passage of time, do not busy wipe off your youth quietly. And that culprit is what you love most. From a young age, your love for me has accumulated in selflessness, but many times I often ignore it. Now I think about it really regret. I know that time cannot be flowed backwards, and some things are wrong when they miss it.
    The gear of time still flows through the ears. The more this, the more I miss the beauty of my childhood, but I can't stop it from the distance, and I feel that I have been completely abandoned by those "nostalgia". I have been praying many times, time, please tell me, "I'm sorry, it's a young, I missed good." At this time, he must be busy in his hometown! I don't know when we have become unsatisfactory from when we start, because the family is getting heavier, even if he is nearly 50 years old, he can only choose Working in a foreign country.
    I always hope that I am looking forward to your return today. When you stepped into the door, I saw the tiredness that you couldn't hide under the simplicity of you. You don't know that at that time, my heart was like a juicer that was twisted over, and it was painful. But you pretend to be relaxed to your brother and me. I do n’t know when, the tears that forced to rotate in the eyes, and ran down quietly. I accidentally saw it, so you said that the silly girl used your cracked hand to dry my tears for me. Seeing your hand made me cry more distressed.
    In at night, I lay on the bed, in my mind, it is still what you look like during the day. Time urges you to slowly become more vicissitudes; your white hair also quietly tells us: you are almost eliminated by Nianhua. Let me always stubbornly think that you are always young and handsome. I slap hard.
    time, time is slower! Don't let him get older, I would like to use me to change your years for years. I want to be your pride; want to grow up soon. Help you support a home.
    This description of my father's composition 10
    The father is a veritable "dumb". He doesn't like to speak, nor does he speak. The mouth is like being stuck, and often does not say one morning or in the morning.
    If I let me hold it for a long time and don't speak, it is simply a joke.
    But in this cold winter, every time I remember some of the scattered plots of my father, it always warmed the desertedness of a pillow.
    still remember that winter, the weather was extremely cold. When I was going to school in the morning, I was carrying a schoolbag, and my father came over, holding a red thick scarf in his hand. He didn't look at me, but just started a scarf and slowly around my collar. He held a scarf with one hand, and the other hand was around for me. He focused and carefully, as if he was afraid that there was a circle that would not go to the right position. After that, he looked at me. It seemed that he was very satisfied, and opened the door, ready to set off, but didn't say anything.
    I didn't move. I have always been unwilling to do anything with my father, because he always doesn't speak. When I walk with my classmates, he always follows behind, making me very embarrassing. I don't know if I went to him or continue to chat with my classmates. "I want my mother to send me." I said dissatisfied with my mouth. "He has something to do," his father replied briefly. Listening to this sentence, the inexplicable voice of his father Hong Liang's voice trembled. I am very reluctant, but I still go out.
    The snowflakes are sparsely drifting, borderless. When I got into the car, the cold wind seemed to scratch people's face like a sharp blade. I shrank my neck and lowered my head in an attempt to get a trace of warmth. The wind was gradually smaller, so I looked up. Suddenly, I saw my father's black hair mixed with a little white hair. I have always thought that my father was still young and strong. In fact, he has gradually aged with my growth. When I look at it again, the white hair seemed to be tough, and the swords and swords pierced my heart. Cold is no longer cold on the body, but to the heart.
    "dumb" father, silent love, but we do not understand.
    At the dining table, I always talk to my mother and laugh. The class is interesting, or the learning status. My father is always a listener, and occasionally says "fast!" "The rice is getting cold!" I never put his words in my heart, and I always talked to my mother. I want to come now, my heart is very sour.
    In the early morning, whenever I was sitting in a cold chair and shrinking my hands in my pocket, there was always a cup of warm water in front of my father. There is no embellishment, no gorgeous, just simple and elegant, but it makes me feel warm and sweet.
    "dumb" father, he gave me love with a scarf care, the sincerity of one or two words, and a cup of warm water. However, his father was silent, and his love was silent. In the world, there are red dust, love, planting. The only eternal love for children's love for children?
    In I do n’t know, how many people can hear the silent voice? That is the father to his daughter to his daughter Deep love! Even if the world is "dumb" forever, parents' love can really hear and never disappear.
    The father is really a "dumb"? Am I so smart!

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