This is the unique charm

As the saying goes, sharing is a kind of magic thing, it can increase happiness, reduce sadness. This is the unique charm and power of sharing. Today, the sister next door gave me and my brother a big red apple. Apple is our favorite, we are happy to thank after they play. I took the apple back to my room and pulled a random book from the shelf to read. Was about to send this red apple to import, a striking title "Learn to share" appeared in front of me, somehow, this title deeply caught my eyes, prompted me to look down, I have to eat the big and red apple. "Today's children are running out of traditional virtues of sharing. When they have visitors, they always share toys, snacks, with each other... I look at this text and I am angry and ashamed, angry that it makes us ashamed; But more shame, because, what is written here, is the truth! "Sharing is a scale, how much you give to others, they will return to you. On the contrary, if you are a selfish person, then you will never get true happiness and you will never get bosom friends!" For this paragraph, I can not understand him, because I do not understand, but also do not believe that sharing will have such a big effect! "Little sister, little sister! Downstairs came the cries of the twin sister next door. "Coming, coming." I put a good book was about to go down, suddenly remember the hands still covering the big and red apple, like a sleeping baby that red face, really cute. I consciously put the apple on the table, as if I didn't want them to notice that I had a big, red apple. Suddenly thought of just see that let me be ashamed of words, a bite of teeth, took the apple down. As soon as I got out of the stairs, I heard my twin sister say, "Wow, what a nice big apple my sister has!"

I put the heart can not bear to bury in the bottom of my heart, smiled and said: "we eat together." With that, my brother also came in with a freshly washed apple. The twin sister said with a hopeful look, "Is it really possible?" "Good things are to be shared." My heart seemed to lighten up a lot. I'll get a paring knife from the kitchen and cut the apple in half. Perhaps because of embarrassment, my brother also contributed his apple, which I cut in half again. So, we four people each took a piece, with relish to eat. Looking at their bright smiles, I seem to understand something... The apple in my hand is so sweet. I have never tasted such sweet fruit. The skin of the apple on the table was red, redder than ever, redder than any apple.

Winter snow, said under the fall. When I pushed the door in the morning, the fresh air was mixed with the cold breath of snow. A burst of quarreling across the quiet sunrise, I hurried out to see, the original is grandmother and neighbors quarreled. The quarrel almost drowned out the crow of the rooster. It tilted its head, shook off the snow's feathers, and gave a loud cry. Is not happy to part, grandmother angrily stamped his feet, rubbing his hands, almost slipped on the ice, "the shovel snow ah!" What is it about? A little thing, maybe somebody's haystack is over the line, somebody's dog sneaks in and steals a few pieces of meat... Already a man of an age, but the eyes seem to have a line clearly divided: this is your, that is my...... More like a kid? I sighed and turned another page from the book in my hand. The snow fell much smaller, grandma put on a cloak, under the snow, carrying a shovel out. Soon there was the sound of shoveling outside the door. Listen carefully, there is a small sound next door, probably is the neighbor is shoveling snow, I think. The sun was shining through the clouds, but it seemed to be covered by a huge glass lid, and the smell of the cold snow was still in it, and it was so cold that one could not help but shudder. Do you have a story about sharing? "I put down my book and went out. The sunlight reflected beautiful nimbus on the snow, and painted pictures on the frozen ice. I looked for a circle, the door shovel snow is not grandma. Along the shovelled path I found my grandmother, sweating as she shoveled a pile of snow together. To see me, my grandmother's red face rubbed red again. I was surprised, but I asked her, "Grandma, do you know any stories to share?" Her face grew redder. I waited patiently for a while, but my grandmother said she didn't know. The snow began to fall again, but soon it stopped. Can not get my grandmother's reply, I had to turn back, suddenly feel that just my grandmother shovel snow place some strange, it seems not my grandmother's.....