800 words, composition for the first year of high school, should be ups and downs.

There is a kind of love that has always been silently dedicated, and that is - maternal love.

There is one person whom she has always given selflessly, and she is her mother.

My mother is in her forties this year. She is a primary school teacher. During the more than ten years that I have been growing up, she has been educating me on how to be a human being and how to learn.

I used to be ignorant and very naughty. I would hang out with those little boys all day long, stay away from home all day, and often cause trouble. For example, on the way home from school, I used a knife to cut open the plastic sheets sold by others, and when I bought things, I put them in my pockets. After being discovered, they will come to your door. My mother paid and apologized. During this period, he would cast vicious glances at me from time to time. After the people calmed down and left, my mother couldn't contain herself anymore. She wouldn't hit me, but she would make me kneel down. I knelt on my knees for several hours. She couldn't bear it anymore, so she made me promise that I would never do this again. Of course I obeyed, but it was all pretending. Honesty did it again a few days later.

One time during the Chinese New Year, I saw other children setting off firecrackers, but I didn’t. So I stole five yuan while my parents were not at home. I went to the store with a few friends and bought firecrackers and delicious food. I didn't go home until the afternoon. After I got home, I saw my dad's gloomy face and knew something was wrong. Then my mom called me over. I knew she must have found out, and I was determined not to admit it. Unexpectedly, he finally confessed under her torture. This time she was not punished by kneeling down, but she cried. She cried and said: "Why are you so unlucky? You only know how to do petty theft. When you grow up, you will have to go to the police station sooner or later." This is my first time. I saw her crying once, and she cried so much that I felt bad for me. I also cried with her and vowed to change my ways in the future. I swear this oath sincerely. She took out a bag of things, which were firecrackers. She bought them specially for me. I cried even louder.

Since this incident, I slowly began to change. I no longer steal other people’s things, and I no longer act crazy all day long. I started to squat at home honestly. But I don’t like studying. My mother forces me to study every time. She often says to me: "Learning is your only way out. Are you willing to farm when you grow up? Become a farmer like your dad." A lifelong farmer?” “Of course I don’t,” I said. "Then you should study hard from now on." Gradually, under her education, my grades improved obviously, and I also gained some interest in learning. Slowly I entered the top few in the class, which made her very happy, but I had not yet met her requirements and remained in the top three in the class.

Soon I was promoted to junior high school. I was ranked first in the class, but due to some reasons such as tight study, heavy tasks, and inability to adapt, my grades have been slipping, but I am still among the top three in the class. By the time I entered the first semester of junior high school, I started to have a rebellious mentality. I was unwilling to communicate with my parents about anything. I often felt that my parents were nagging me and wanted to follow the trend. When I saw other students holding MP3 players, I also wanted to have one myself. So I wanted to ask my mother for money. When I told her, her face suddenly dropped and she said, "As long as you dare to buy it, I will give it to you. I will do what I say. If you don't believe me, give it a try." "I know her temper. Even if this matter is settled. The next step is the midterm exam. This exam is not ideal, ranking fifth in the class. My mother was very angry, and of course I was very sad, mainly because I didn’t focus on my studies. This summer vacation, she studied with me. On the one hand, she monitored me, and on the other hand, I could ask her easily when I had problems that I couldn't solve. Seeing her working so hard, I thought that even if it was for her, I would improve my studies, so I started studying hard.

Now my grades are quite stable, and I no longer have the impatience I had in the first grade of junior high school. I have also learned to work hard, and I can let her worry less about me. Whenever I want to be lazy, I see her Or thinking about her earnest teachings to me, I got motivation, because I want her to be proud of me, I love her

My mother is not very beautiful, of medium height, with black hair. A beautiful headband tied up with flowers. Like all mothers, she loved her children deeply. Her love for me that surged from the bottom of her heart seemed pale and feeble to describe and describe with any language or vocabulary.

The merciless years and heavy work have caused my mother to have more and more gray hair, and the wrinkles on her face have become denser. These white hair and wrinkles testify to all the hardships my mother has put in for me.

My mother is extremely loving to me. There was a math unit test in fifth grade, and I didn't do very well. When I got home, I listened to my father's scolding in silence. When I was crawling in front of the desk to correct my mistakes, I thought about the words my father said to blame me. The tears that had been rolling in my eyes still fell on the test paper. At this time, my mother suddenly pushed the door open, wiped away the tears from my eyes, picked up the test paper, and sighed, her sighing voice seemed to be trembling. My mother comforted me and said, "I know you don't want to do poorly in the exam. You have to study hard and be serious in the future. You did not do well in the exam this time. Summarize it carefully and see what you do in the next unit." I listened. With the motivation, in the next unit exam, my grades really went up again. My mother looked at the paper for this unit and smiled with satisfaction.

My mother is still very responsible for me.

Graduation thesis

Once, as soon as I arrived in the classroom, it started to rain lightly outside the window.

Then it rained harder and harder, and I started to worry because I didn't bring rain gear. As the bell rang, school was over. I picked up my schoolbag and rushed to the eaves in front of the school, waiting for my parents to pick me up. Almost all the food was gone, my heart felt cold and the tip of my nose started to feel sore. But just when I wanted to cry, under the dim light, I saw a familiar figure not far away, it was my mother! I was so happy that I waved to her, and my mother came over. Her hands were red from the cold, and her trouser legs were sprayed with clay particles. I got in the car, held an umbrella, crawled behind my mother's tall body, and returned home. Her love for me moved me for a long time.

My mother gave me meticulous care. She is like a tree that protects me from the wind and rain, and she is also like a lamp that points me in the right direction. Now, only by studying hard can I repay my mother's infinite love for me!

My mother is so simple. She hopes that all the great spirit of the Chinese nation will be concentrated on me. Because she is my mother and I am her hope.

I rarely pay attention to my mother. In my daily schedule, I go back and forth between school and home, studying, eating, and doing homework in a routine every day. Pay little attention to the things and people around you.

After I finish my homework in the evening, I go online, post posts on forums, watch animations, chat, and don’t care about anything else. He vents his inner emptiness wholeheartedly.

I seldom spoke at home one day. I once estimated that I could not even speak a hundred words to my parents at home. I didn’t know how to face this number. Should I be happy or sad?

I still hang out on the computer every day. One day, my mother and I went to take a bus. Inadvertently, I saw the top of my mother's head. It turned out that the black hair had traces of white hair. I seemed indifferent on the surface, but my heart suddenly shook (,). I show everything about me to the silent Internet every day (.), but at home, I don’t even do my part well, and my mother worries about me all day long. I can do whatever I want on the Internet, but in real life, I have never done anything for this family.

I still surf the Internet, but every day when my parents come home, I always bring them slippers or make them a cup of hot tea. Although it is a small thing, they still happily praise me for growing up.

One day, when I was surfing the Internet, I saw my mother inflating my car tires. My mother was so tired that she was out of breath after just a few pumps, but she still persisted in inflating my car tires. Cheer up(,). I saw her thin beads of sweat swaying with the rhythm of her pumping. I put down the mouse in my hand, helped my mother to the chair, and said guiltily: "It is my responsibility to pump up the car. I will do it myself." Fight!" My mother smiled and said, "Okay! You have grown up." Although I was praised, I felt more uncomfortable than being criticized. My mother is old, why don't I help her with the work, but why am I surfing the Internet here leisurely? I was so ashamed at the time that I wanted to slap myself (hard).

My mother, the mother who gave birth to me and nurtured me, I treated her like this. I ignored her as soon as I got home and didn’t care at all (even at night). I should no longer indulge in the emotionless Internet and ignore the irreplaceable family affection in real life.

I don’t know where to start at the beginning, because mothers all over the world are so great, there are countless beautiful articles praising mothers all over the world, mothers all over the world love their children, and children all over the world write about their mothers with love.

But I have to say it, even though it is incoherent. If writing about a person requires introducing the appearance, then I don't know how to write it, because my mother is very ordinary in the eyes of others, but in my heart she is the most beautiful person. If writing about a person must include relevant examples, then I don’t know how to fabricate them, because every move my mother makes is full of love for me. What I am passionate about is not the true feelings reflected in one thing. But life is full of mother's love.

So, the most real side of my mother only exists in my heart. I can only tentatively describe a small part. No matter how good the writer is, I can’t write it with my undeveloped brushwork. The ultimate mother.

The word "responsibility" has never left my mother's life. She has never had a "giving up" attitude towards everything in life. To me, she will fulfill her rights and responsibilities; to her family, she will fulfill her responsibilities from top to bottom; to work, she will do it to perfection; to life, she will always strive to make life perfect. Regrets make life more real and fulfilling.

My mother's life has never been without the word "hard work". She has never had a "leisure" attitude towards everything in life. My mother has worked hard since she was a child, both physically and mentally. Share the hard work of her parents, support the lives of her brothers and sisters, until after she comes out, there is a more worried me, until there are more and more things to worry about, and I know that on the road of hard work, I can bear a heavy burden every step of the way. She didn't stop when she was about to step into a footwell, as if this was her life.

My mother’s life has never left the word “giving”. She has never had a “taking” attitude towards everything in life. Do you say she is like a spring silkworm offering silk thread? No! The mother does not have the stagnation that occurs after spring silkworms pupate. Do you say she is like a wax torch offering light and heat? No! Mother has no end after the wax torch turns to ashes.

Do you say she is like a bee that makes honey from flowers? No! Mother's purpose is to exchange her own hard work for the sweetness of others. Do you think she is like a ruziniu who works in obscurity? No! Everything the mother has done is definitely more than the fruits of the grass. My mother was a person who never asked for anything, and who could not be compared with other things. She gave everything from the beginning to the end of her life.

There were so many things that went against her will, but she just tried her best to do better. How many people had broken her heart, but she just went to heal the wounds with sadness. The years have passed, and the storms have gone through. Mother, I am speechless to express my love. I can't say what my mother is like. I don't even know whether what I wrote is clear, correct, and meets the standards for writing about mother. But after all, I can only read my mother with love, and read my mother's love in my heart.