Staring at it, the dry branches stand stiffly, and you can see a few residual cores, which are abrupt in color but extremely harmonious. Not good-looking, like a corpse, the old skin is cracked and fragile. But it will not fall, and its roots still cling to the land. Obviously, it wants to live, it wants to blossom. But it looks so weak, how can it live? How to blossom? "Pa" I don't know whose tears wet my clothes.

I remember before, before that flower tree.

Just entering the spring, the wind has a little smell of winter, which hurts my cheeks. I found it. There are dozens of green shoots on the slender branches, shining like jade. The distant sky is pale and cold. I looked at it and felt a warm current flowing in my heart. I think this is noble. Aristocratic life living in garbage.

After that, I often go to see it. I never water and fertilize it, because I know that it is not the kind of life I pity. I don't need charity, it's blasphemy.

After a year or two, I grew taller and was not as slim as before. Can it bloom? Yes, it will blossom. Sure enough, in the early summer of that year, it sent out flowers and bones. After careful counting, there were more than 70! The flower bones are bright red, and the red is harsh. I don't know what will happen if they are opened.

It's going to blossom. I will keep hope.

One warm night, I saw its flowers. It's really a fiery red flower, which blooms densely, as if a big fire has been lit on the tree, and it is so dazzling. It's so beautiful, so beautiful that people can't stand it, as if they were going to swallow people. The sunset is also brilliant red. It was ignited by this kind of fireworks. I opened my eyes and looked at the sunset, and then at the flower tree. Suddenly, my eyes were a little blurred. I felt myself in the red sky, so I was soaked in it. Suddenly, I felt that I was melting and my skin was burning. Oh, it's not just color, it's fire. Yes, it is fire. Will it set me on fire? Do I have to blend in with the burning red? At this moment, I am neither a spectator nor a passerby. I think I have entered the scenery, and I have been involved in beauty.

It was the best that year.

Watching it get older and older. I believe it will never blossom.

However, in that flower season, it bloomed again. Flowers are not dense. Its flowers are different from the usual fiery red, but blood red, with a bloody and trembling beauty. It is a flower made of blood and a warm life.

But how can miracles happen easily? After all, the flowers fell before my eyes.

It is still a warm evening. The sun is intertwined with clouds in the western sky. This is a silent battle, and the blood is overwhelming, as if to indicate something. A gust of wind, falling flowers, draws a series of arcs in the air and follows different trajectories to reach the same destination. I picked up a flower and found that it did not tend to be old, but it was still full of vitality. I see, this is its resistance to fate. It seems stable, but I know that it is the biggest rebel of fate. It seems to have no desire, but in fact it has greater desire. It has been disobedient until now, and it won.

This is a flower season, this is a flower festival. The flower season is not over, and the flower festival has passed.

This is a brave struggle, a brilliant bloody battle, a heroic ending and its most beautiful posture.

The most beautiful gesture in life

When the soft light of the sunset reflects a long silhouette of a distant mountain, it stands as a mountain gesture; When a stream runs in the mountains or on the Yuan Ye, winding is the gesture of water. They are just a form, a figure and a gesture created by boundless nature. Yes, they are beautiful, but the most beautiful thing is in people's hearts. ...

Perhaps depression is a gesture, but open-mindedness is another gesture; Perhaps noise is a gesture, and leisure is another gesture; Perhaps submission is a gesture, and resistance is also a gesture. Standing at the height of life and looking at the life in the world, we will suddenly find out what is the most beautiful gesture in life.

People must remember the immortal depravity of "Until, hold up my cup and I ask the moon". When he raised his hand and raised his glass, he put half the splendor of the Tang Dynasty into the glass. But at this moment, will you think of the woman who lived at the turn of the Song Dynasty? She was gentle and weak, but she leaned against the fence and got drunk. I seem to see her posture at that time, sad and firm. The grief of war and bereavement stung her, but she still raised her glass in a standing position, still supporting her reputation as a "poetess". I vaguely understand that weakness is only her external performance, and her inner strength is a gesture of the soul.

It's a gesture to hide wine in the east fence, but inner optimism is a kind of beauty.

People must remember that at the Spring Festival Evening, a dance called Guanyin with a Thousand Hands surprised many people. Tai Lihua, the leader of the dance, was originally deaf-mute, but she perfectly interpreted the artistic connotation with her light dance steps, elegant dancing and dignified posture. Faced with the injustice of life, she didn't complain about others, but integrated into art and life with a calm and peaceful heart. She said: "Avalokitesvara has many hands, and she will use them to help the world." We were shocked, shocked by her gratitude for fate and love for the world. Under the leisurely appearance, we can see her beautiful and shining heart.

Dancing is a gesture, and inner love is a beauty.

Maybe you can't imagine how our people work in arid land and in miserable days. Whenever I see those dark figures facing the loess and facing the sky, I can't help but think of Mu Dan's Zan, praising the hardworking people for living a bloody and tearless life. But once again, they accept life and sow hope.

Bending down to work is a gesture, and persistence in the heart is a kind of beauty.

Great beauty is speechless, and the most beautiful gesture is only suitable for us to touch and move with our hearts. The most beautiful gesture is to drink wine, dance and bend over to work, because there is a deep sense of philosophy, great love and persistence behind these gestures. ...

The most beautiful gesture

My daughter called yesterday and said she would be home at 4 o'clock this afternoon. Today, my mother put the chicken in the cage early, mixed the pig food and fed it to the pigs. Mother has a faint smile on her face. It seems that even pigs have infected her mood, and she is not as naughty as before.

Mother carefully simmered the dinner on the kang and covered it with a quilt. After all this, my mother rubbed her hands and glanced at the old bell on the wall. My daughter will be back in 20 minutes.

Mother leaned against the door frame, put her gloves in her sleeve, looked at the road in front of the door, expecting her daughter to appear at the end of the road. The room was so quiet that even the noisy hens didn't make any noise. Only the sound of the pointer "tick-tock, tick-tock" implies that time is passing.

"ouch!" Mother suddenly patted her on the head. "My daughter must be tired and thirsty after driving for so long. I have to pour her a glass of water. " Mother began to go to the kitchen and poured a full tank of hot water. The mottled white porcelain jar that fell was a little hot in her hand. Mother put the jar on the table and touched her cheek. Her palms were a little hot. Mother looked around and had nothing to do, so she leaned back against the door frame.

Bang, bang, bang, bang!' The clock struck four, and mother stood up straight and looked at the end of the road. "Tick-tock, tick-tock ..." The second hand ran tirelessly forward. Mother looked at the clock, then at the white porcelain jar. The heat curled up and there was a smile on her mouth.

It was getting dark, and my mother stamped her numb feet and turned to look at the white porcelain jar, which was no longer steaming. Mother went to the table, picked it up and took a sip. It's already cold. Mother walked into the kitchen with a white porcelain jar. Vaguely, she seemed to hear the creaking of the wooden door, and she ran out to have a look. Not even a soul. "It's the wind!" Mother went to the kitchen while smoking.

The white porcelain jar on the table continues to emit heat. My mother still leans against the door frame, quietly stares at the path outside the door, looks at it steadily, and turns her head to look at the white porcelain jar on the table from time to time, so that her daughter can just drink water with the right temperature when she comes back. My mother thinks so.

Night arrival, like knocking over an ink bottle, is dark and deep. Mother lit the oil lamp, and the dim light was like an old man dozing off. Mom poured hot water again.

Soon, the moon emerged from the clouds, and the cold moonlight sprinkled on the path in front of the door and on my mother's face leaning against the door frame. "It's time to come back!" Mother muttered to herself, and the porcelain jar on the table was hot again, and mother continued to pool stagnant water.

The night was already deep, and the thick cold spread around my mother, but she never felt it. She just leaned over and looked at the path outside the door, as if to see through the road.

There are many gestures in the world, and it is a heroic gesture to resist the eloquence of dams that will break. The warm embrace tells the gesture of lovers; The efforts of writing and the passion of writing are the attitude of students; Leaning against the doorframe and expecting the child to return is the mother's gesture and the most beautiful gesture engraved in the hearts of thousands of students in Qian Qian, Qian Qian.

The most beautiful gesture

The wheel of time has run over the fleeting years, and many unforgettable memories are gradually covered by the dust of time, but there is a picture that is as complete, clear and profound as mottled light at this moment-it presents a most beautiful gesture.

When I was a simple and hazy child, when I was outside, one of your slender index fingers was always held by my little hand. I always stumble behind you because I don't run as fast as you. When I complain about why you walk so fast and observe your feet, I find that your walking style and posture are different from mine, because your toes are always sticking out. So I became very happy, thinking that this is the secret of walking quickly and imitating your walking posture seriously. Although joy was quickly replaced by disappointment, the picture of you walking was initially fixed in my mind. You found me shaking my head and smiling after walking like you. "Silly boy" You always say that.

Later, when you stopped knocking on my head and calling me a silly child, I grew up. The ethereal fantasy of childhood turned into a broken color bubble. Walking with you on the road, in the crowd, you are used to protecting me behind me and guiding me forward. Once, when I was walking with my head down, I suddenly found that your slightly "out of line" walking posture was so indecent that my feet bent two arcs on the ground every step I took. So I reluctantly reached out and pulled your skirt. You turn around and wonder, "Do you want to buy anything? I think you should be hungry after a long walk. Let's ... ""Mom, can you watch your step? Do you know how awkward your walking posture is? " As soon as the words came out, I regretted it. I see that the corners of your mouth that have just risen instantly solidify and keep closing. Your surprised eyes stared at me unblinkingly, and my whole body froze and did not move. I saw that frowning self in your pupil gradually became insensitive. Yes, I also realized my rudeness and stood awkwardly with you, but soon, your mouth rose again. Mom got it. I will try to change it. On the way back, when I walked behind you with my head down and was at a loss, I accidentally found your unnatural back when I walked. You try hard to put your steps in a straight line when you walk, but you fail again and again, making you look clumsy. I said guiltily, "mom, I'm sorry, your walking posture has been a habit for so many years, but I'm not very sensible." Stop pushing yourself. I think you should look at the way you used to walk. " You suddenly turned around and smiled gratefully at me.

I cried.

Every time I think of the back of your walk, although there are some foreign words, mom, that gesture is the most beautiful, so profound and unforgettable in my daughter's mind.

The most beautiful gesture

As the saying goes, "Life is a mirror. If you smile at it, it will smile back at you. " I want to say that the most beautiful gesture in front of life is to take it seriously and live happily.

It's a little cold in the early autumn morning. The girl poked her head out of the warm quilt, hesitated a little, complained that the weather was too cold, dressed herself, then quickly washed and dressed, took the hot milk from her mother, waved goodbye to her mother and walked in the other direction. On the quiet path, only the girl's shoes kissed the ground and the girl walked rhythmically. Occasionally, people pass by and cars pass by, but the girl never stops because of these, and her thoughts fly out of the clouds. What is she thinking? Listening carefully, from time to time, she popped out a sentence "disdain for self-protection, embrace trade silk"; When robbers came to trade silk, they came to me ... "Occasionally, her footsteps would pause slightly, which seems to be in sync with the pause of her thoughts and memories, and once she remembered her light pace, she would restart. In this way, the girl no longer felt cold in the early autumn morning, and she found a way to keep warm; Girls are no longer afraid to walk alone, because this is just the best time to test their memory. I think the girl's back must be happy and serious.

Every time I walk to the school gate, the corners of girls' mouths can't help rising. Because she finished testing herself, a new day came. The classroom of senior three is on the fourth floor, and taking the stairs has become a compulsory course every day. Girls like to take the stairs, and prefer to walk with rhythm and lightness like stepping on the keys. Step by step, word by word, the advantages of the socialist democratic political system poured out on the stairs on the fourth floor. After the last step, the girl smiled knowingly. She is happy for herself and welcomes the new day. Now she likes to laugh, laugh happily and smile brilliantly.

Home and school-a short distance is carefully walked by girls day after day. She always walks carefully and happily. She thinks this is the way to realize her ideal and the beginning of a new life. Accompanying the unique rhythm, carefully complete each step; Complete the self-test at a brisk pace: I expect her to go higher and further every day!

If one morning, you see a serious walking, rhythmic light back, that is the most beautiful gesture, that is an ordinary girl who loves life and is optimistic and happy.

The most beautiful gesture

Buds in bud, willows swaying in the wind, and rippling lakes ... they show people the elegance and beauty of nature with their most beautiful gestures. Everyone has different answers in their hearts.

Rest at home in summer vacation, the weather is hot, and the temperature difference between day and night is large. Turning on the air conditioner at night is easy to catch a cold, so my mother put a floor fan in the room. Every night, in the cool breeze, I can always sleep peacefully.

One night, I suddenly woke up and saw my mother sleeping beside me. Mother leans on her side, her legs are slightly bent, and one hand is on my navel. Look carefully at my mother's sleeping posture, just like the shrimp bent over. I smiled, and my mother's sleeping position was really special. At dawn, I woke up again, and my mother still kept her original posture, so I would be very tired when I slept. I want to wake my mother up and let her stretch in a different position, but I can't bear to look at her tired face.

When I got up in the morning, I said to my mother, "Mom, you can't always sleep on one side." "What's the matter, affecting sleep?" "No, it's always bad to stand aside." Mother nodded and said, "I'm afraid you'll catch a cold." I put my hand over your stomach so that the fan won't blow directly at you and you can sleep comfortably. " After listening to my mother's words, I was a little confused and my heart suddenly shocked.

Turn on the TV, the content is all black and white, and the latest progress of Zhouqu mudslide disaster is broadcast on TV. Suddenly, a picture came into my eyes. A mother raised her son above her head with both hands, and the mudslide had reached her neck. The news said that the mother held her son in the mudslide for eight hours, which was shocking. The mudslide almost completely submerged her, but her arm supporting her son was still so strong. The way she holds her son is so beautiful.

I think of my mother again. Isn't that how my mother sleeps?

In the evening, I woke up again. This time I saw my mother's sleeping position. I think it's the most beautiful posture: sideways, feet slightly bent, one hand on the stomach. Listening to my mother's breathing and watching her sleep peacefully, I found that my mother is the most beautiful at this moment.

I used to think that since it is the most beautiful gesture, it should be as slender and delicate as a flower. Now I find that the most beautiful posture is the posture of my mother sleeping, because it is the posture of love.

The most beautiful gesture

He failed again. As for how many times, no one can remember clearly. When the postman sent the rejection to his home again, he didn't knock at the door or call him, but just threw the letter outside the door and left in a hurry. He seemed to hear footsteps, so he hurried to open the door. He didn't show much surprise when he saw the refusal that fell to the ground. He bent down to pick up the letter and dusted it off.

He remembers that the postman was very enthusiastic when he first arrived. A pair of bright eyes and a row of white teeth make the postman look so amiable, but people hate losers after all. I can't tell why it looks so comfortable. He also hates failure and rejection again and again, but that's just annoying and fleeting.

Moonlight is like water, wandering in this empty city. There are neon lights outside, like weaving pedestrians, and shrill laughter, but he is sitting at his desk, and the lights are not as dazzling as neon lights. He carefully read the editor's opinion and wrote his experiences at the end of a thick notebook-all these experiences were in front.

In the early morning, the neon lights outside finally dimmed, and he finally wrote his own experience. He is drinking a bowl of bitter medicine-he is in poor health. The doctor told him never to stay up late, but he has heavy work during the day. Where can he have time to write without staying up late? Writing can never give up-this is his ideal. He likes to keep the attitude of fighting for his ideals. He thinks it is the most beautiful.

Why is it beautiful to persist in fighting for the ideal? He didn't think about it carefully, but he knew that it was not good not to fight for the ideal. He knows that what he wants is actually a great part of the sense of accomplishment generated by the struggle for his ideal-the happiness he has paid. As for what others think of him, he doesn't really care. What do you care?

He is drinking steaming medicine. He can't drink too much at a time, which increases the pain of taking medicine. He tried not to think about this pain, thinking about how to maintain the most beautiful posture of this struggle. I can't give up. I must keep working hard and make progress every day.

The medicine was gradually used up and the bottom of the bowl leaked out. He saw sugar residue at the bottom of the bowl.

The most beautiful gesture

Childhood memories are like paper flying farther and farther in children's hands? Although it has been branded with ashes by years, it has never been erased. The situation is still vague!

Grandma is sitting on a desk and chair under the slightly yellow oil lamp. There is a bamboo basket on the table. The basket is full of grandma's baby, needles, money and cloth ... grandma is so thin in the light. Years have bent her waist and left a needle-white silk thread on her head. Grandma holds the needle in one hand and the thread in the other, leans forward slightly, leans her hands tightly under the lamp, staring at the shriveled eyes wrapped in circles, staring at the tiny seam at the end of the needle, and holding the thread in the other hand, passing through the hole with a slight trembling ... The breeze blows the wick, and the light shadow is erratic, grandma.

I tried several times, but I still couldn't get in. Grandma rubbed her eyes and let go. Grandma's eyes suddenly brightened in the light. What is that? Not bright eyes, but tears. Grandma is old. If you use it with your eyes for a long time, you will inevitably drop a few tears. Maybe it's inevitable, but maybe it's grandma's worry ... I don't know.

Immediately, grandma raised her hand and clung to her eyes, trying to dry her involuntary tears with the cloth on her body, and made a slight groan ... Grandma was still there, her trembling hands, blurred eyes and lights prevented her from getting into the needle, but she didn't give up, just like a plastic statue, fixed at the table. ...

Seeing grandma's embarrassment, I felt a quiver in my heart and rushed forward and said, "grandma, I'm sorry, let me get a needle!" " Grandma straightened up and smiled and said, "Silly child, it is normal for clothes to be torn, but be careful next time!" " "You go to sleep. Grandma, you can still see the pinhole. She'll put it in.

I walked away with my head down, walked into the room and lay in bed, but I couldn't sleep. So, I turned out of bed and secretly glanced at my grandmother behind the door, still unchanged; Grandma leaned forward, her hands trembled slightly and she put on the needle. The light is dim, covering my grandmother and fixing her in my memory.

Tears fell unconsciously, fell to the ground, mixed with dirt, penetrated into my heart and buried this memory in my heart!

The most beautiful gesture

It will be a year in one month and five days. Yes, you've been gone for almost a year, and then you suddenly realize that you've been away from our life for too long, my dearest great-grandmother.

I didn't see you getting old, because I was very old when I saw you. Full of silver hair, few teeth left, slightly purple lips, dense footprints and chaotic small eyes, always emitting soft light. I still have a warm feeling when I think about it now. What haunts me is the gesture of sincere prayer every month.

You were born in the year of the demise of the Qing Dynasty, when you loved to wear clothes. Heavy belt buckles are really heavy, but you will never get tired of them. It is said that great-grandfather likes you to dress like this. Of course, this is another story. You are a devout Buddhist. You have been fasting for 60 years, but you have given up all meat, even eggs and monosodium glutamate. I can't imagine how a person can have such a firm belief. After 60 years of simple meals and 60 years of light life, you always get up early at dawn in your memory. After washing, I started a day of prayer with a rosary. After you left, I counted it carefully and it happened to be 108. Dial one after reading the Bible every day, 108 times. What kind of beliefs support you? When you are praying, your eyes are completely unfamiliar, and your eyes are in a distant mouth. At this time, you don't want to be disturbed. I remember once I accidentally disturbed you, and you gave me an angry look. The tenderness in your eyes no longer exists. I froze and stood there, and then I left with my mouth curled in pain, complaining about you in a low voice. I think you heard me, but you didn't care about me. It has been decades since then, and it turned out that this belief supported her to live such a monotonous and dull life. It took me a long time to understand the hopelessness in her eyes. For an instant, I seemed to see the thin woman with anxious eyes. Under the wheel of time year after year, her hope was finally crushed, leaving only dry and chaotic eyes. In fact, you are still waiting for a miracle, or you may be disillusioned. It doesn't matter if you wait. This is just a habit. What is the truth? I don't know. You and that beautiful and romantic secret are buried peacefully and gently in the ground.

In my mind, you bent down to pray again, and in an instant I smelled love.

The most beautiful gesture

There is always a cold wind in early autumn; The sky in early autumn shares the blue color only in dreams, dotted with pure white clouds, which always reminds me of a lovely smile. Is it really possible to draw a smiling face in the blue sky with a brush one day? Early autumn always tempts me to walk the streets and feel the beautiful scenery.

I made an appointment with a friend, holding a cup of milk tea and a string of mutton skewers, eating, drinking, joking and stopping without scruple, but ignored the filtering of people kneeling in the middle of the road begging. Not indifference, not ruthlessness. It was only after repeatedly describing them as "liars" that I finally accepted this view.

I continued to talk and laugh with my friends and looked around. There are a group of girls ahead, getting younger and younger, all very lively. They were still joking when they passed a beggar, but just two or three steps later, a girl broke away from the crowd and ran towards the beggar. She hurriedly took out a few coins from her coat pocket, then quickly squatted down, reached into the bowl and gently spread them out and poured them into the bowl. Khan said thank you because the beggar. Seeing her reddish face, she nodded, stood up and ran to the front group of girls.

I got a little closer to them and heard other girls say she was stupid, but she didn't refute me.

There is also a lame old man in the west of the street, and I have been watching her. Sure enough, she ran over, squatted down and skillfully put the coin in the bowl. Then he nodded, smiled and left. Then a burst of "silly girl" concern and lessons broke out among the girls.

I can't take my eyes off her anymore. She didn't know how beautiful the gesture she gave was.

People who know that there will be liars and stop giving them are smart; Giving back to someone who knows there will be a liar is the best thing. Arrogant dedication and understanding with a slight nod are engraved in the softest place in my heart.

Ask a friend to accompany me to the east of the street and to the beggar. I also learned from her appearance, squatted down, gently sent the money to the bowl, then nodded slightly and ran away with a smile. I know, this posture is the most beautiful!

Looking up, I don't know when the white clouds have been wiped, like a lovely smiling face.