Third grade composition

In normal study, work and life, everyone will inevitably come into contact with composition, which is a verbal activity for people to express their feelings in written form. How to write a good composition? The following are eight junior three compositions I collected for you, hoping to help you.

1 Students who are wandering outside can't help but speed up the pace of going home when they hear the sound of reading. ...

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Maple leaves spin and fall in the wind, drifting into the distance and turning into a cloud and tears. Seeing this scene, my thoughts drifted to the past, and I remembered all kinds of happy scenes of my childhood, tears, and I couldn't help falling down ... After all, it was the past, and time is gone forever. I just realized that I have lost too much.

I remember playing with my classmates in primary school. Although I was still young at that time, I was "scarred" if I accidentally annoyed the convenience. However, if you think about it carefully, it is actually the purest friendship in life! I like the distant sunset in my memory, which is beautiful amber, like sugar. I like the sky in my memory, very blue ... It seems that people will feel its beauty only if they lose it. It's just, even if I noticed, it's still too late, isn't it?

During my junior high school career, I made many new friends and saw the humanity in the world. However, the friendship in junior high school may have impurities. However, it is also valuable.

Looking at the old pagoda tree in front of me, I found that I really grew up, yes, I grew up, I was sensible, and my memory of the past was blurred. My childhood really disappeared. ...

The third grade composition 2 is culturally inclusive and full of spring.

The old people regard the simplicity reflected by the stars and the moon as beauty, while their descendants regard the neon-lit modern fashion as beauty, which actually reflects people's understanding of beauty: each has its own beauty. Let different people face different things and feel the enjoyment of beauty.

In this regard, Mr. Fei Xiaotong made the following extension: each has its own beauty, and the beauty of beauty. Beauty and * * *, a world. These four classical understandings of beauty reveal the difference, diversity and inclusiveness of beauty for us.

Different eras have different understandings of beauty. Different times have produced different ideas and concepts, thus producing different cultural understandings of beauty. Zhao, who was famous for his thinness in Han Dynasty, was called "palm dance" because of his light posture. Yang Yuhuan was one of the four beauties in the Tang Dynasty, with a plump figure and graceful posture. Appreciating the famous paintings of the Tang Dynasty today, whoever has a horse must be "higher and bigger". Han has the softness of Han, and Tang has the atmosphere of Tang. Different times have different pursuits of beauty, just like natural stars and fashionable neon shining in the galaxy of culture.

Beauty is not only the difference of the times, but also the difference of regions and nationalities.

In today's world, ethnic, regional and racial cultures are colorful, just like a few stars, gathering in the bright galaxy of human civilization. The beauty of this cultural diversity is the beauty of harmony and tolerance that we are pursuing.

Different regions have different understandings of beauty. Different political, economic, cultural, historical and natural environments have different evaluation standards and scales for regional beauty. The sandstorm on the Loess Plateau has sharpened the culture of northern Shaanxi, and the irrigation of the Yellow River has made it more beautiful. Therefore, the soaring journey to heaven and the majestic Ansai waist drum have created the beauty of wild and simple culture in northern Shaanxi. Jiangnan water town, exquisite Suzhou embroidery and dragon Kunqu opera constitute the elegant and exquisite beauty of Jiangnan. One side of the soil and water gave birth to one side of beauty.

Different nations have different understandings of beauty. Due to the differences in personality, tradition and psychology, all ethnic groups present colorful beauty. Famous Americans are made up of thousands of immigrants from Qian Qian, thus forming an eclectic beauty. Whether it is Disney or Broadway, the United States has integrated various cultures and formed a new and dynamic beauty in American culture. The Yamato people on the island chose the indomitable and introverted Gome. Japanese women today still wear clogs and kimonos and walk gently under the cherry trees. Different nations have different pursuits of beauty, and only tolerance can make the world more colorful.

A flower is not spring, but a flower of culture blooms in Man Chun. Old people and children point to the stars with one hand and the neon with the other, and have different understandings of beauty. But it is undeniable that in today's night sky, the light emitted by stars and neon lights is different, but they are equally beautiful. Today's world is also a cultural garden where classical beauty and modern beauty, national beauty and regional beauty blossom.

To pursue different beauty, we must tolerate different beauty, let the beauty of multiculturalism bloom, and let the world become a garden of culture, always bright and fragrant!

Last night, I had a dream that Guan Yunchang came to visit my home.

The story goes like this: I don't know what happened at that time. It was noon and I was watching TV. Suddenly someone knocked at the door. I opened the door and took a look. I'm surprised. It turned out to be Guan Yu in the Three Kingdoms period. I saw him wearing a green robe, a golden armor, a Buddhist monk's knife on his waist, a dragon crescent moon blade in his hand, a sleeping silkworm eyebrow and a phoenix eye. He is more than nine feet long. "What kind of house is this?" Guan Yu said. I know a little, and then I said, "My name is Shao Jiaming. I was born in 20xx. This is my home. " Guan Yu seemed to understand something and nodded his head. Then I took him to my house. When he arrived at the hut, I gave him my dessert. He asked, "Is this better than our rations?" "Of course of course! This fish is seaweed-flavored and delicious. There are also fish with tomato flavor and barbecue flavor. Which one do you want? " I asked Guan Yu. "Whatever!" Guan Yu replied. So I brought him seaweed. He thinks it's delicious and wants more. I said, "Never mind, I bought seven boxes, so I'll give you two!" "He is very happy. I also showed him my room. There is a grand piano, a big desk and bookshelves. There are more than 200 books in it. Guan Yu looked at them with interest. Suddenly, he picked up a book, The Art of War. " I saw it when I was a child! "Guan Yu said excitedly, Oh, great! "I replied. I also showed him around my kitchen. At that time, my grandfather cooked a meal and was about to serve. He was surprised to see Guan Yu and me. "Isn't this Guan Yu? "Grandpa was surprised to say. "Guan Yu said. Grandpa understood, served, and I sat on the stool with Grandpa and Guan Yu. Grandpa is a very good cook. His dishes include: scrambled eggs with garlic, potato chips, fried sweet potato balls and so on. He drank millet porridge powder and Guan Yu wolfed it down. I asked, "Why are you wolfing down?" "I play faster than this. I have practiced! " Guan Yu replied. After dinner, I took Guan Yu to see my computer. I said, "this thing is very powerful, astronomical and geographical, pervasive!" """Is my eldest brother Liu Huangshu awesome?" Guan Yu asked. "That's not a type!" I answered. Then I went to watch TV and came back to watch the computer. Guan Yu and the computer were gone. There is a note on the computer desk, which reads:

I want to borrow your computer for five days! -Guan Yu

Somehow, I woke up suddenly It was a dream.

Although dreams are fictional, but: I like dreaming!

I was an autistic and self-abased boy since I was a child, locking myself in a narrow space and having few natural friends. ...

I remember that autumn, the autumn wind was bleak and everything withered. Father is on a business trip, and only my mother and I are left at home. My mother was already very weak, and after giving birth to me, she became even sicker. After my father went on a business trip, my mother unfortunately had a high fever. I wanted to call someone for help at that time, but I didn't know anyone and I didn't have any friends nearby. I was so anxious that I suddenly remembered my father who was on a business trip that I quickly got through to him. "hello?" Father's voice came through the phone. I was so nervous at that time that I cried and said ... After I told my father, my father said calmly, "Don't be afraid, son, someone will help you in the future." Although I couldn't see my father, I nodded convincingly. ...

Soon, someone came and the doorbell rang. I opened the door and an aunt appeared in front of me. ...

It turns out that this aunt is my father's sister. With her help, my mother was sent to the hospital and gradually recovered, and I became good friends with this aunt. ...

From then on, my aunt often took care of us when my father was on a business trip. Aunt knows how to get along with me, although our personalities are just the opposite.

In the past, my understanding of the world was "gray" and I was not interested in many things around me, but my aunt was different. My aunt is optimistic about life. After knowing her, under her subtle influence, I gradually began to understand things around me and was full of curiosity about life. Under her patient guidance, I gradually became cheerful and sunny, full of confidence in life and made more good friends. During that time, I felt happier than ever before. ...

Two months later, I completely changed my withdrawn personality.

But life is not smooth sailing. On a trip to visit my mother and me, my aunt suffered a concussion in a car accident and lost her memory. Because the medical technology in the local hospital is not advanced, she has been transferred for treatment. ...

I have never seen my aunt since then, but I always miss her. ...

Aunt, you changed me and helped us when my mother was ill. Meeting you is the greatest luck in my life! You drove away the haze in my heart and taught me how to face life!

Aunt, thank you!

50 years old, parents divorced. So I followed my father to live a single-parent life.

I can't stand living without my mother and crying all day. At this time, my father always sits beside me silently and looks at me without saying a word. At this time, I often go further, hit my father in the face and ask him for his mother. When I am really unreasonable, he will quietly walk out of the house and let me vent at home. I will hear him open the door until I get a little quieter. My father came back with red eyes and whispered to me, "Don't cry, son, my father will take good care of you."

I didn't know until I grew up that my father always hid outside the door and cried silently and smoked a stuffy cigarette when I lost my temper. The cigarette butts and red eyes on the ground told me that my father was as painful and sad as me.

Such a door is opened and closed, and life goes on.

In order to make my life more comfortable, my father applied to the company for a position with higher salary but harder work. He stayed up almost every day and didn't come home until very late. Night after night, I was always awakened by the sound of my father opening the door in my sleep. Although father is extremely careful, the house is too small to hide his tired voice. At that time, I had been listening. As soon as the key turned, the door opened and my father entered the room. He gently took off his shoes, sighed softly, and then crept to open the door. Seeing me "asleep", he washed and fell asleep again. The next morning, I will hear him put on his shoes and gently open the door to start a new day. At this time, the echo of closing the door always haunts me. This voice tells me how much my father loves me.

It was in this opening and closing that I grew up slowly, but my father gradually looked old.

xx:xx

In autumn, it rains in Mao Mao.

Make a cup of fragrant tea, sit alone in the window of the country farmhouse and listen to the drizzle outside. A gust of wind tugged at the window lattice, bringing the fragrance of bamboo leaves and blending with the fragrance of jasmine on the windowsill. Intermittent rain hit the bamboo forest outside the window, making a rustling sound, like rain whispering, and like a chord, playing a heart song.

The rainy night in the country is particularly quiet, without the noise of the city and traffic, even the autumn insects stop singing. The gentle rain, like a serenade, is quiet and serene, and occasionally one or two dogs bark, which becomes a high note in the music score. This poetic rainy night will give people a poetic mood.

The spring rain is charming, and the autumn rain is affectionate.

Walking on the path of bamboo forest with purple umbrella, watching the yellow and green of bamboo slices, watching the swaying of bamboo and watching the misty rain in the distance. Let the rain wash away the distractions of this world and become clear and clean. Standing in front of the window of the house, watching the raindrops dripping on the eaves, like people's thoughts, there is a touch of sadness. In this sadness, I recall the dusty years and savor those disappointments and a little melancholy. In fact, memories are also a kind of enjoyment.

Take a covered boat in the drizzle, play in the water town in the south of the Yangtze River, see the old houses on the shore, and listen to the soft martial arts. Walking in the narrow streets and lanes, the path paved with bluestones seems to have returned to that ancient era, as if seeing a girl with a faint sadness under an oil-paper umbrella in the rain lane, wandering on the bluestones and wandering in the long and lonely rain lane.

I still remember that time I swam to Moon Lake in the rain. In the rain, the stone bridge is silent, accepting the baptism of rain and welcoming the gentleness of rain. Rain drops on the stone road, and the sound of "ticking" forms a moving movement with the simplest notes. In the lake, raindrops make ripples, adding subtle patterns and agility to the calm lake surface. The beautiful scenery is intoxicating.

I like the rain, like the rain; Like the softness of rain; Romantic love of rain; Like the light sadness of rain. ......

Looking forward to the stars and the moon, I finally entered the third grade. Once, the third grade was still so elusive for me, which filled me with longing. And now, it stands in front of me clearly and truly. The third grade is a golden age, it is the starting point of dreams and the harbor of hope!

Facing the new class, new face, new starting point and my own ideal, I am a little confused again. I was not very active in class today, but I didn't review carefully after class. I panicked again and again and sighed silently again and again. The last class that day was the class meeting, and the teacher had a profound dialogue with us. The teacher told us: "The third grade is the golden age. Three years of hard work, three years of hard work, all in the first half of the third grade. Three years of hard work cannot be in vain! "

There is no doubt that the teacher's words are correct. However, I am not a hero, nor a heroine among women. But like everyone else, I have my own dreams. I have been thinking about how to achieve it before, but when it comes to fighting, I always forget it. Sometimes, I always blame myself for being too disappointing. Why don't I do it in the third grade? The third grade is a new beginning, but it is also likely to be an eternal end.

I was a very naive little girl in the first grade; By the second day of junior high school, I became a person who felt mature. But what about the third day? What will I look like in grade three? No matter what the result is, I will continue to work hard. I also thought about not going to school and going out to work like others. But when I think of my unfinished dream, I can't bear to part with it. Yes, I will try my best to achieve those four words: never give up!

The dream looks simple, but it is really difficult to realize. If you are not careful, you will lose all your efforts. I think I will work harder in the new class, so let me start from the beginning!

I won't give up in grade three, I will challenge. Dreams are psychedelic, but laughter is always sweet!

Third grade, my dream!

Once, I thought that in the 2 1 century, the so-called "truth, goodness and beauty" had already existed in everyone's heart, the so-called "happiness" had been around everyone, and the so-called "beauty" had been in every corner of the world. The world is a happy family, and people love each other regardless of each other.

As I grew up, I began to know people around me and understand things around me. After much experience, I found that beautiful ideas are so simple and ridiculous-just like a dream, there will be the brightest smile in it.

There is an indescribable sense of comfort on a summer night. The breeze blew slowly, calming down the heat wave during the day and replacing it with a moist touch. The long willow branches danced lazily in the wrong steps. Walking in the community with classmates, enjoying this rare silence at will. Tired, I just found a place to sit down and felt very comfortable.

"Hey, look at that!" My classmate suddenly turned to me and said.

"Ah?" My eyes followed her voice and stopped in the trash can not far away. The sight in front of me made my heart sink at once-an old man in his late sixties, with gray hair and extremely messy, and his vest was already covered with dirt, and he could hardly see the original color. The old man hunched his thin back and rummaged through the trash can-the trash can three feet away that made everyone hide their noses and flee, as if looking for something, so focused as if it were her world. A shabby little tricycle lay quietly not far away.

Time slips away slowly in our silence. ..... is like watching a movie without changing the lens.

For a while, the old man kept turning over and a group of us were silent.

After a while, the curled back slowly straightened a little, holding a pile of waste paper of different sizes in his hand and trembling towards the tricycle. A newspaper seems unwilling to leave his messy and dirty home and float lightly to the ground. After the old man put away the sheet piling, he turned and bent down to pick up the small pieces of paper on the ground. Every movement seems so laborious-a slow-motion movie.

In this scene, a classmate whispered, "Ah! Just a piece of paper! "

Yes, it's a piece of paper! I silently responded in my mind. How much is a piece of paper worth? Ordinary people will throw away a new piece of intact paper at will! Nobody cares about shredded paper! For it, the old man had to bend over, his back bent badly!

I can't bear to watch any more. Don't turn your head and close your eyes, let the sigh come from your ear.

I don't know how long it took, but I finally got up the courage to take another look at the trash can-unfortunately, the tragedy is over.

I wonder if she had dinner? If you ... don't ... dare to think, there is a chill in your back.

"Don't you feel sorry for the old man who picks up garbage?" My classmates asked me.

"Well, very poor. After all, she is so old. " I answered in a low voice.

"But there is nothing we can do! ..... can we help her? "

"no!" I suddenly cried. "Maybe from a normal person's point of view, it is the greatest respect for her." I wonder if this sentence is far-fetched.

There is no more echo.

We exchanged a few pleasantries and went home.

I will never forget that night that made people tremble from the depths of their souls.

I think, no matter whether the old man has offspring or family, it is the sorrow of this society to let her, who has hunched over, fall down and make a living by collecting garbage.

Maybe I'll never see the old garbage collector again, but I sincerely pray that she will be happy, healthy, enjoy her old age and spend the rest of her life happily. Because this world should be an equal, respectful, beautiful and loving world.

God will care about everyone and he will always pray for everyone. When the bell rings tomorrow, he will give us the most exquisite and perfect gift in the world: love.