Beautiful campus

The years erase time, erase memories and erase faces. In the ecological garden, the thousand-year-old trees, with the breeze gently brushing them, began to sigh gently again, and a few eroded yellow leaves gradually fell. I began to fall deep into the years again, "creak, creak ......"

Once by chance, I ran an errand for my teacher and came from the platform of the junior high school to the elementary school building which was full of a lively atmosphere. At a casual glance, I looked around and saw the classroom of one (1) class, I couldn't help but feel a shiver in my heart and slowly walked into it.

The classroom had been greatly changed and was even brand new. The windows were decorated with window flowers cut by the children, the walls were covered with a variety of pictures, and the desks and chairs had been replaced with new ones. The only thing that hasn't changed is my memory.

At that time, we were still using tables and chairs made of wood. In the third row by the window was my seat, I only remember that the table in front of me was a naughty child, always holding a pencil on the table to carve a stroke; the stinky little guy holding a mirror to look at; which little thing is bawling because they can not see their mother?

At that time, each of the forty-eight students had a unique character; the non-talkative, the naughty, the study-loving, the nerdy, and so on. Forty-eight smiling faces were printed on the clean blackboard, smiling so brightly and laughing so lovingly. Each of our simple and honest hearts was linked together for six years, and even longer, and such a big family became the unique "Class I" forever!

Although the fireworks are beautiful, they are fleeting; although the flowers are delicate, they will soon wither; although the time is lingering, they will also fade away. Elementary school is a wonderful turning point in life.

The bell rang, I walked quickly towards the classroom, green trees, flowers, blue sky and white clouds, and laughter. Following the steps, I came to our classroom. The sign of class six (1), hanging at the front door, and everything in the classroom had our traces. On the podium were chalk boxes with colorful shells, representing our desire for the sea; our bulletin board was always embellished by the Minister of Propaganda, either with colorful magic trees or starry skies, rendering our dreams; the white walls were covered with red and gold banners, becoming a milestone to record our growth; the yellow tiles were plastered with our dashing calligraphy, writing our wonderful life. The yellow tiles are covered with our dazzling calligraphy, writing our wonderful life.

Touching a desk at random, I saw the scene of our daily struggle to answer in class and focus on homework after class; touching a board at random, I felt what everyone designed carefully around the art; walking through the classroom at random, I heard the sound of reading aloud, big and small, sometimes mixed with laughter.

One wonderful story after another, one amazing experience after another, laughter and tears hidden in every textbook, while our friendship is hidden in every corner of the campus.

Seems simple but deep

In the morning, after going to school, my mother looked longingly out the window; in the evening, after coming home from school, a kind greeting; when writing homework late, my mother handed over a cup of warm water ...... These are all simple little things in life, but behind them is the reflection of my mother's deep love for us, seemingly simple but deep.

The sound of "rustling, rustling" is incessant, that is the sound of the pen tip rubbing on the paper. At this time, my mother came in with a cup of warm water in her hand, put it on my desk, told me to do my homework, rubbed her sleepy eyes, and left. A cup of water is simple, but it contains a deep mother's love! My mother could have rested early as she deserved, but she didn't. She stayed with me until late at night. This simple cup of warm water reflects the deep love of a mother. A cup of warm water seems simple but deep.

Whenever I failed, my mother always encouraged me to keep trying. That summer, I took part in an Olympiad competition. When I failed to win the prize, I felt so bad that I couldn't help but shed tears. My mother handed me a tissue and comforted me. I gradually got better and stopped being attached to the results of the competition and focused more on practicing. A piece of paper and a few words of comfort, though simple, reflect my mother's consideration for me. It does not need too many words, but can make us feel the warmth from it. A tissue, a few words of comfort, seems simple but deep.

Short advice, a companionship until late at night, a cup of warm water, a tissue, and a few words of comfort are no longer in themselves, but now they have a common name: mother's love. Mother's love does not need to be astonishing but is shown in the ordinary life of a small, ordinary thing. These simple little things together portray a deep mother's love, and these little drops in life are no longer simply a result.

Mother's love is like this, seemingly simple but deep