Motherly love is a selfless force. It falls on our hearts like a drizzle in spring. Although silent, it nourishes the seedlings of life.

A person's life, all the glory and pride in the world, comes from maternal love, which is sacred. In our most difficult times, it sometimes gives us strength. From the moment we were born, people used sincere blood to dissolve into every blood vessel of their mothers, happily threw themselves into the embrace of maternal love, and a sense of pride in being masters of their own affairs echoed in their chests. When maternal love took off, they gave a loving heart.

Motherly love is a cradle and a folk song, which sings unity and spreads civilization. Motherly love is a monument that engraves the past and enlightens the future. ...

Ah! Motherly love, if you are a building, I am your brick and tile. With my little body, I will build your sublimity. If you are a flag, I am a silk thread belonging to you, embroidering a shining star for you with my youth; If you are a garden, I am a flower, a grass and a leaf belonging to you. I am willing to silently exhaust my efforts and spit out plumes of powder.

A loving mother made clothes for her wayward son's body with thread in her hand. She sewed them carefully and repaired them thoroughly, fearing that the delay would make him go home late, but how much love has an inch of grass, and there are three wisps of spring scenery. We can only repay our mother's kindness with love and filial piety. Filial piety is one's duty. Finally, we bid farewell to our great maternal love with the saying "sing a love song for my mother in October", but I finally said loudly: "I love you, and I love your broad mind even more.

Motherly love is like water:

Motherly love is like water, lingering, inspiring me, enlightening me and leading me to the light.

Maternal love, like water, gives me deep tenderness and makes me often intoxicated in the long river of maternal love; Motherly love is like water, sometimes it flows calmly, and sometimes it advances rapidly.

Maternal love is the greatest love in the world, and many celebrities and great men have praised it. Although maternal love is very common in our hearts, without it, we are like a weed and don't know what the greatest love is. I love my mother, and it flows like water in my heart.

When I was frustrated and my vision was blurred, it was my mother who enlightened me, found me a lighthouse on the road of life, guided me forward, and filled my eyes with confidence again.

Then my mother turned into a river, flowing quietly.

Motherly love, like water, has cultivated my patience endlessly, making me have my own goals like her, being successful like my mother, and being extremely patient with anyone and anything.

When I do something wrong, the long river of maternal love is accelerated by anger. At this moment, I am extremely sad. I really shouldn't do that. I regret it. I went back and did it again until I got it right. At this moment, I saw the mother river become clear and transparent, and I also showed a happy smile.

When I was lonely, I sat alone on the bank of my mother river and had a heart-to-heart talk with her. After every chat, besides being comfortable, I have different gains-the truth of being a man. So I will be happy to do what I want to do, forget the loneliness just now and continue to laugh at life.

When I succeed in my studies, listen, my mother silently applauds me and encourages me to continue my success.

Motherly love is like water, lingering, inspiring me, enlightening me and leading me to the light.

Motherly love is speechless:

I have heard two stories about my mother.

One happened between a homeless man and his mother. The wanderer left his hometown after visiting relatives, and his mother sent him to the station. At the station, the strap of his son's travel bag suddenly broke. Seeing that she was leaving, the mother quickly took off her belt and wrapped up her son's trip. When she took off her belt, she blushed because of impatience and exertion. The son asked her how to get home, and the mother said, it doesn't matter, walk slowly.

For many years, my son has been carrying his mother's belt with him. For many years, his son has been wondering how his mother walked home without it.

Another story happened between a prisoner and his mother. On the day of visiting the prison, two old mothers from poor mountainous areas came to visit their sons. Among the colorful articles of tourists; The old mother took out sunflower seeds wrapped in white cloth and gave them to her son. Sunflower seeds have been fried, and the old mother has eaten them all. Without skin, sparkling flowers are like birds' thick tongues.

The son who served his sentence took this pile of sunflower seeds and his hands began to shake. Mother was speechless and lifted her skirt to wipe her eyes. She visited her son all the way and sold her eggs and pigs. How much did she have to save to make up for the trip? Before coming, she worked hard during the day and ate melon seeds under kerosene lamps at night. Chewed melon seeds are put together, as if they are getting bigger little by little, like a hill, and no one wants to eat them by themselves.

More than ten kilograms of melon seeds have been chewed for many nights.

The son who is serving his sentence hangs his head. As a strong young man, it is time to support his mother, but he can't. Of all the people who visited the prison, his mother's clothes were the most shabby. A fucking bite of melon seeds contains a thousand words. His son plopped down on his knees to his mother, and he regretted it.

Once, a friend my age complained to me about my mother, saying that she was uneducated and ignorant, and she only nagged. So I told him these two stories. After listening to their words, his eyes were hazy and he was speechless for a long time.

Mother's heart:

My friend told me that her grandmother was old and weak.

My grandmother didn't know my grandfather at first, and she was determined not to let this "strange man" go to her bed. The wife who has slept with her for 50 years has to sleep in the living room. Then one day my grandmother went out and disappeared. Finally, with the help of the police station, her family finally got her back. It turned out that my grandmother was bent on finding her childhood home and refused to admit that her present home had anything to do with her.

Coaxed and deceived, she finally persuaded her grandmother to stay, but forgot that she had brought up her nephews and nieces since childhood, thinking that they were a group of wild children and came to rob her of food. She hit them with a cane and protected her rice bowl with the other hand: "Go away and don't eat my food." This makes the whole family laugh and cry.

Fortunately, grandma also knows someone-a friend's mother, and remembers that she is her own daughter. Every time I see her, I will call her "Mao Mao, Mao Mao" with a smile. At dusk, she moved a stool and sat downstairs, nagging, "Why didn't Mao Mao finish his studies?" Even He Miaomiao's daughter graduated from college.

Grandma's family is convinced of this. If she wants to talk back to her family in the future, she will threaten her: "If you make trouble again, Mao Mao will not want you." Grandma will calm down immediately.

One National Day, a guest came from afar, and my friend's mother personally cooked a family dinner to entertain the guests. At the dinner table, my grandmother had a very strange action. Whenever a dish is served, my grandmother will sneak around with vigilance, as if she were a child trying to steal candy. Finally, judging that no one paid attention to her, my grandmother put a big chopsticks dish in her pocket in full view. Both the host and the guests were frightened.

After the last dish was served, my friend's mother was so busy that she came out of the kitchen, picked up some leftovers from the plate and asked the guests, "Have you eaten?" At this moment, grandma jumped up, grabbed her daughter's hand and pulled it hard, and her daughter got up inexplicably.

Grandma pulled her daughter to the door all the way, warily blocked everyone's sight with her body, then fished in her pocket, smiled and took out the food just hidden inside and stuffed it into her daughter's hand: "Mao Mao, I specially left it for you, you eat, you eat."

My daughter was holding all kinds of mixed and crowded food in her hand. After a long time, she looked up and saw her mother's smiling face. She suddenly cried.

The disease cut off all the connections between grandma and the world, and made her forget all the connections and all the dear people in her life. The only thing that can't be cut is the blood relationship between mother and daughter. Her soul has slowly died under the erosion of disease, but it is her mother's heart that will never die.

Mother's job:

I once read an article about the mother's "salary", describing the conclusion drawn by the famous "Edelman Financial Services Agency" after careful thinking, calculation and evaluation: If all the work done by the mother is changed to paying someone to do it for her, the child's salary will be as high as 635,000 US dollars a year. In other words, the mother's salary is comparable to that of the president of a big company.

In fact, even if the American writer Critenden said $60,000, not many children can afford it.

Being a mother is a job, a hard and unrequited job.

Maternal love is a kind of detail, as long as we pay attention to it everywhere: a cup of fragrant milk in the morning is maternal love, a warm coat in winter is maternal love, a smile when you are sad is maternal love, and a reminder before going out is maternal love. ...

Mothers enjoy these jobs with their life-long love and enthusiasm. However, we often ignore the hardships of these jobs and only take a casual look at the hard-working mothers.

For me, my mother is gentle and strict.

When I am sick, my mother always takes care of me, brings me a cup of warm water and tucks me in.

It's getting cold, and my mother always reminds me to put on more clothes to be careful of getting sick.

When my exam results are not satisfactory, my mother always comforts me carefully: "Never mind, there will be another time."

My mother is gentle at this time.

I made a mistake, and my mother always reprimanded me severely, making me bow my head to admit my mistake and repent.

My mother always pulls me aside angrily and watches me finish my homework when I am delayed in my study because of my fun.

Mom is strict at this time.

My mother's gentleness makes me feel warm again and again; My mother's sternness made me gradually distinguish right from wrong and formed good habits.

My mother is the first mentor in my life, and also a bosom friend who accompanied me to grow up happily.

So I said: maternal love is a light rain on a spring night, which comes gently, goes quietly and moistens things silently; Motherly love is the sunshine in March, silently dedicated and paid, although as light as a feather, but as heavy as Mount Tai.

If you are a ship, your mother is a warm harbor; If you are a kite, mother is a light spool.

Being a mother is the greatest job, and it will always be praised and praised. ...

My mother:

My mother is very ordinary, not an intellectual, and has no enviable face, but she gave me careful teaching and sincere care, which made me grow up healthily.

I have been an eccentric child since I was a child, naughty and unwilling to be bound.

When I was over one year old and just learned to speak, I would complain to my mother. As soon as my father came home, I ran up to him and said, "Dad, mom hit the doll again!" " "Dad asked quickly," Really? " Grandma interjected: "Nonsense! I also parrot-learned: "nonsense! "

It's not that my mother hasn't hit me. She just doesn't hit me hard every time, pretending.

However, I am often scarred because I am too thin. Although I can't walk yet, I often turn out of my cradle. Whenever this happens, my mother will feel distressed and blame herself.

Gradually, when I grow up, my mother seems to be more and more fierce. I remember that children don't want to come to my house to play, because if I make a mistake, my mother won't even give me face in front of my partners, which makes me embarrassed and makes the children embarrassed. In fact, this move seems to be very effective, and I have hardly made two mistakes.

Since then, my mother has become a tyrant among children.

But my mother is patient and frugal. She never eats leftovers or even drinks soup. She is in good health, which may be because of her good taste.

My mother doesn't like taking medicine when she has a cold. It used to be because there was no medicine at home, but now it's because she hates it and is afraid of side effects. My father doesn't like taking medicine either, so I haven't taken any medicine since I was a child.

My health is inseparable from my mother's superb cooking. My mother can cook like a cook. When making silk, she must cut it herself and never rub it with a mold. She said that the food she destroyed tasted bad.

Mother never washes clothes with a washing machine. Even in winter, she still washes by hand. When she was very young, the condition at home was not good. To save hot water, she washed it with cold water, so her hands were always red and swollen. Even now, she doesn't believe that the clothes washed by the washing machine can be cleaner than those washed by hands. My father and I often laugh at her stubbornness, but she turns a blind eye and remains the same.

My mother taught me a lot: she taught me to be strong, not to cry when things happen, but to find a way; She corrected my mistakes and let me gradually form good habits; She also taught me to live in peace with others and not to keep others' mistakes in mind, which would hurt myself and others. ...

I don't remember my mother telling me "I love you", but her actions tell me that she loves my family very much. She loves me very much. In her eyes, I am the only one and always the most important.

This is my mother, an ordinary and great mother.

Lead mom across the street.

When I came home with my wife and children on the weekend afternoon, my mother, who was nearly sixty years old, couldn't help but be overjoyed. She must go out to buy some good dishes to entertain us. Mom said, "when you come back, mom will cook for you, not because you are tired, but because you are happy!" " I said, "I'll go with you!" Mom said cheerfully, "OK, OK, you can buy whatever you say."

To go to the market, you need to walk on the sidewalk and then cross the street. It is the off-duty time, and the cars are coming and going in the street, and an endless stream of people is flowing. My mother's old legs look awkward. She walked beside me with a vegetable basket, and I listened to her patiently. Can my child not listen?

Cross the road and you will find the food market. Mother stopped suddenly. She held the basket in her arms and made her right hand reach out to me. ...

In a flash, my heart trembled: what a familiar action this is!

When I was in primary school, I had to cross a road to school every day. My mother works in a packaging factory. The school is in the east of the city and the factory is in the west. My mother is worried about my accident. Give me a ride every day, cross the street and go back to work. When crossing the road, she always extends her right hand to me, holds my little hand in her palm and leads me across the road. Then she leaned down and told me over and over again, "Don't cross the road when a car comes" and "Cross the road with others" ...

More than 20 years have passed, and the small hand in the past has grown into a man's big hand. The mud road in the past has been improved into a cement road. The young mother in the past has a wrinkled face and thin fingers, but she is still so skilled in holding hands. She suffered a lot in her life, and suffered a lot of sins, which were swept away by her hair, but she could never erase her love for her son.

I didn't pass my hand, but stretched out a hand to take the basket from her arms and hold it in my hand. The other hand gently held her hand and said to her, "When I was a child, you held me every time I crossed the road. Let me hug you today! " Mother's eyes flashed with surprise and her smile rippled, like an old farmer facing a bumper harvest of farmland, like a fisherman carrying a heavy fishing net. ...

Mother's hand:

The dream of a foreign land is almost real in MengMeng. When I hurried back to Taiwan Province last autumn, the scenery faded in my dream. Old friends, new friends and relatives faded away, leaving my mother alone.

That night, I dreamed of my mother. She is standing in vilen. She took the sunset, the ancient road, the people in the bamboo forest, the stove smoke, the distant mountains and rivers, and looked up at the celestial pole as vast as Yuan Ye. In the blue sky, there is a kite, like a whale, floating and sinking. My mother holds the thread tightly in her hand, and her white hair is wrapped around it. Suddenly, the wind was strong, the kitchen smoke dispersed, and the sunset was nowhere. My eyes stared at her-my hands, those huge hands, covered everything I could see with tears. That hand is my door into this world; Those fingers are candles on the top of the mountain, which makes my world without the light and heat of the sun.

My mother's hand, in my first strong impression, is to punish my hand. It is inevitable that children are scolded by adults and beaten by adults, but I can't remember any footage of being beaten by my mother. Even the most common spanking is gone. Even so, my mother's punishment is worse than beating, and there is another trick to twist. When I said the trick, she twisted it at the same time-wringing or twisting it painfully. It may be the usual admonition of Chinese mothers to boys, but the stepmother still has cruel means of "no comment" on the "little bitch" who comes out.

My mother, like hundreds of millions of mothers in the world, is "deeply in love and conscientious" to me. Especially when I was a child, the country was in troubled times, the people were robbed, and I left my hometown, which made my mother more strict with my children and more and more strict with my love. Although my mother didn't treat me like a mother-in-law, she was brave in the face of righteousness. You can learn from the sun and the moon. In Anshun, Guizhou, one year, a long-distance guest came to your home, and my mother prepared several more dishes. This is an excellent opportunity for children to have toothache. Because of gluttony, I filled half a bowl of rice more than usual, but after two bites, I said I couldn't eat anything. I looked at my mother timidly across the table. My mother's face turned to disappointment and anger, but she simply said, "Then go down and set the dishes." Before the adults finally sat down, I stole a look at my mother from time to time. Her face never showed and she didn't smile. In the evening, when the guest resigned, my mother couldn't control the long-term pressure, so she dragged me over, pressed me on the bed, and twisted my arms upside down. It's not easy to eat enough. Do you know that there are children begging in the street? "After pulling and twisting, I saw my mother sitting on the bed sobbing. After that, there was nothing left in my rice bowl.

Of course, my mother's hand has its own delicate side in my feelings. At that time, my mother washed all the clothes and pantyhose of a family of six. After pouring a pot of hot water into a big wooden basin, I put about three cold water washbasins, a washboard, a piece of soap or a piece of soda yellow soap, and my clothes were turning between her fingers-F. Anshun had no running water and lived in the yard. If there is no well, you need to buy water. All day long, people carry two buckets of water (covered with lotus leaves) to sell water along the street in the city. We belong to strangers who want to buy water. When it's cold, my mother washes clothes in front of the porch under the eaves, always blushing and washing one by one. I often peep through paper windows with holes. Before washing, mother always carefully takes off the wedding ring on her ring finger. When the laundry is ready. Her fingers were red and swollen with cold. When we grow up, we know that my mother lived a rich "housewife" life in those years after marriage. My eldest brother, my third brother and I were all led by a wet nurse. And mother's delicate jade hands, under the baptism of July 7th artillery fire, have been weather-beaten, but thoroughly remoulded and become thick and powerful enough to cope with any hardships.

It is also those hands covered with thick and hard cocoons that, under the dim oil lamp, supervise our brothers' schoolwork without relaxation. Rough and fragile papyrus books, one after another, flipped through her fingers like a calendar. In the third grade of primary school, I failed because of my poor homework. I remember when I handed my report card to my mother, I didn't have the courage to look at her face and looked down to see her holding that one. Unexpectedly, those hands gently pressed on my head, and I heard my mother say calmly, "Never mind, I just want to work harder next year." I don't remember how long I stood, but I will always remember the deep impression left by those hands.

On winter nights, the fire gradually goes out, and the air in the room is more Han Xiao. After we went to bed and fell asleep, my mother sat by the fire and began to mend our clothes and socks with the faint light. Sometimes she will put on thick cloth soles with an awl, and then tie the hemp rope through the pinhole one by one. That painful bear is probably the overdraft she got from wearing new shoes on our feet! :Vvop^

However, in those years, my mother has always been in high spirits. On this occasion, she will take the initiative to take out Yuping Xiao and a flute brought from Beiping and play a song. The songs my mother often plays are Hugging the Tiger, Lin Chong Running at Night, Dreams in the Garden and Moonlit Night on the Spring River. Those hands danced lightly on every scale, but

When I went back to Taiwan Province last summer, I noticed that my mother's hands were striped and trembled slightly, and her wedding ring seemed a little loose. One morning, my mother and I were left at home. I went to the kitchen to make tea and poured her a cup. When I put the cup in her hand, I saw my hand so close for the first time, but I was afraid to touch it easily. In an instant, my hands became so big that I was so big.

Motherly love:

"The clever animal next to people is a wolf, a wolf in the north. I wonder what wolves in the south are like. I don't talk nonsense about what I don't know. I only know that there are wolves in the north. "

An old hunter, beside a pile of honey-thick bonfires in Daxing 'anling, told me that a hunter is a dying profession. He stopped hunting and became a ranger.

I said, "No, it's a gorilla. Gorillas have expressions, can use simple tools, and can even communicate with people with special words online. "

"I have never seen a gorilla, and I don't know what the Internet is. I've only seen wolves. The wolf at the junction of desert and forest is the cleverest. That was when I was young ... "The old hunter puffed out his chest as if he had regained his courage.

"Wolf with little Wolf across the river, how to do? If there is only one wolf, it will hold it in its mouth. If there are a few, it won't take them with it, for fear that something will happen to the children left on the shore when it swims in the river. So the wolf killed an animal, blew up its belly, and then bit its pedicle tightly with his teeth, making it swell like a raft. It carries all the pups on its back, relying on the buoyancy of the lifebuoy.

Once, I chased a female wolf with two cubs. She can't run fast because the wolf's feet are unhealthy. The distance between me and the wolf gradually shortened, and the mother wolf turned and climbed to a huge sand dune. I'm surprised. Usually, when a wolf encounters a crisis, she will circle in the dense vegetation and wait for an opportunity to escape through the complex terrain. If she climbs to the sand slope, although the wolf climbs fast, it seems cheaper than people. Once people climb to the top of the mountain.

This is a strange wolf. Maybe it lost its mind. I thought like this and climbed up the high sand dune step by step. Sure enough, I clearly saw that the wolf was running away quickly in the distance. I went down the mountain to chase, and suddenly I found the little wolf missing. At that time, I tried my best to catch up. This is the fastest wolf I have ever seen in my life. I don't know where it came from, like a black arrow stuck in the ground. I run after the sun.

I peeled off the wolf's skin, picked it with your gun, and went back. I thought as I walked, what an incredible wolf. Why is it so taboo? Where did those two little wolves go?

I'm going home soon, so I decided to go back to the sand dunes. I arrived in the middle of the night, and it was very cold. In the pale moonlight, the sand dunes look like a silver grave, and there is no movement.

I don't think it's really necessary. It's just a stupid wolf. I was about to leave when I suddenly saw a hidden depression, like a white candle, rising two strands of smoke.

I ran over and saw a pile of camel dung. White gas comes out from the inside. I opened it gently and saw two little wolves that had disappeared during the day, panting evenly under the warm camel dung, dreaming the first good dream after leaving their mother. There are traces of the wolf's tail sweeping gently on the ground. The workmanship is very clever, and it actually escaped the eyes of an old hunter during the day.

In order to protect her cubs, the mother wolf first delayed my speed by climbing the mountain to buy time to hide the children. Then she calmly smoothed the trace with her tail and ran in the opposite direction with all her strength to save the child's survival by dying.

The hot air from the nose of a sleeping wolf cub condenses into a curved white line in the night sky and rises gradually. ...

"How clever the wolf is! When people train wolves to be stupid, they become dogs. Single dog can't beat a single wolf, that's what I want to tell you. " The old hunter looked at the ashes of the bonfire and said.

Later, I saw in the data that the brain capacity of dogs is smaller than that of wolves. It is a great invention to make an animal stupid for people to use through training.

Motherly love-

My father gave birth to me and my mother bowed to me. She dotes on me, supports me, cares about me, goes in and out of my stomach, and wants to repay my virtue. -The Book of Songs

There is a song "Looking for You" entitled "Looking for Mother-the Embodiment of Spring". The text is: Find a woman who can cook, sew, nurse, make up lessons, get up early and go to bed late, always be patient and selfless, work at least 18 hours a day, stay awake 24 hours if necessary, work seven days a week, have no entertainment, and never quit when necessary. Let's shout together: Mom, I love you!

In fact, this is someone who defines mother affectionately in another way. Being a woman is cowardly; Mother is strong.

When we think of our mother, we burst into tears ... the hand that pushes the world is the hand that shakes the cradle.

Birthday is the mother's day for mothers and the most painful day for mothers. From that day on, all the best dreams of her girlhood came true. She looked after us and grew up as a teenager, but she became the "housewife" she despised most when she was young.

All this is cruel. Mom, I do.

The mother watered her young life at the other end of the umbilical cord; Wrapped in appropriate "sugar coating", we pick up the past, spread out the future, hold up the years, and embrace unfathomable forever.

Looking at our children's youth, recklessness and self-righteousness, most of the time, my mother is too distressed to speak. Now, the past in which mother hugged us is changing, and it has become her and our future.

Holding the mother's skirt, through the circulation of years, the change of time and space erased the colorful season, but it could not weather the maternal love.

When we think of our mother, we burst into tears. ...

A loving mother made clothes for her wayward son's body with thread in her hand. She sewed them carefully and repaired them thoroughly, fearing that the delay would make him go home late, but she loved the grass an inch long and won the third Spring Festival. A poem Ode to a Wanderer vividly shows the greatness and selflessness of maternal love. When you succeed, your mother teaches you not to lose yourself.

When you are frustrated, your mother's encouragement and comfort can always help you find yourself in adversity. Everyone has enough clothes on the treetops, and they all want to travel around the world by themselves ... I haven't taken care of it at all, and my mother's hair has been turned white by us.

My mother says she is not lonely-all lonely mothers in the world are with her. "Parents don't want their children to have anything, as long as you are happy and don't let your parents worry." This is what our mother will repay!

Give your mother more love, even if it is a fan in hot summer, a sweater in cold winter, and a affectionate phone greeting in quiet night.

When we think of our mother, we burst into tears. ...

What is the most precious thing in life? Maternal love. Behind every great man, there is a great mother. Thank God, we are not great men, but we also have great maternal love.

When she comes back from afar, her mother always greets the door with a grateful face. She regards the child's return as a precious gift from God. Mother's life-long humility transcends all grievances, and they shape the absolute conscience of the world.

Touching the palm print, counting yesterday, the imagination is exhausted-this is the first awakening of conscience. Mother is drifting away from our past. Time has given us the future, but it has trampled on our absolute intimate dependence with her.

Mother's casual loneliness and her gradually disabled figure are increasing disproportionately with our abundant youth; They hurried past and could only stay in one yellowed photo after another; And our gorgeous youth is still tenaciously nourished by our mother's youth.

There must be something that always makes us feel empty when we face our mother, like a madman standing in front of the Buddha and losing confidence. At this moment, fame and fortune are like leaves in previous lives-when we face our mother, we suddenly see the roots.

There are so many things on my mother that we can't help crying.

When we think of our mother, we burst into tears. ...

Let the soul become a thousand rays of sunshine, travel through time and space, and look for the years that have passed inadvertently; But we can't pick up the pearls that mom spilled all over the floor. It's a drop of love that makes you and I feel guilty and lost.

Motherly love is an unfathomable pool.

When we think of our mother, we burst into tears. ...

Take a fine tooth comb and sort out your complicated thoughts.

Tears rolled down our eyes when we thought of our mother.