It turns out I didn’t understand the 500-word composition

Spring comes and summer passes, autumn harvests and winter hides, but we still have a long future ahead. The world is full of fallen stars, the earth is abundant, and the world is not lonely. Youth is just a passer-by, it is also a teacher and a friend, it depends on whether you cherish it or not. Throughout life, the grass and trees are like spring. When they come, they are like wind and when they go, they are like dust. Next, let’s take a look at the 500-word essay “I Didn’t Understand” brought to you by A Bundle of Green Grass.

[Part 1]

After dinner, my usually laid-back and lazy mother suddenly became energetic today. She turned on the computer and cheerfully said to us: "Today I am going to answer the senior engineer's paper online. Don't bother me!"

Senior engineer? Countless doubts arose in my mind. In my heart, my mother will always be just an ordinary office worker working "9 to 5". She was not promoted because she took too much care of her family, and she enjoyed a peaceful life contentedly. But now, she is associated with the high-end and loud name of "senior engineer", which makes me confused.

I quietly hid behind the door and watched my mother secretly. She hasn't started answering the questions yet and is making preparations. A faint smile hung on her lips, and the confidence and strength in her eyes shone, reflected on the computer screen. She seemed to glance at the door inadvertently, then adjusted her collar with both hands, picked up the tea cup, carefully took a sip of hot water, and cleared her throat. Immediately afterwards, she was about to start answering the questions. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and immediately started answering the questions nervously.

Hiding behind the door, I couldn't help but have so many thoughts. Seeing my mother's serious attitude towards this question, I also saw the importance my mother attached to it. This test paper may not be just a test paper for ordinary senior engineers. It must also contain my mother's dream. Everyone has the right to follow their dreams. Just because my mother once sacrificed her dreams does not mean that she must unconditionally sacrifice her dreams now and even in the future. It turned out that I didn't understand my mother's true thoughts, and I even selfishly and narrowly believed that everything she dedicated was justified. I was really stupid. Thinking of this, I can't help but feel my cheeks burning.

Looking at my mother again, she was holding the mouse in one hand and typing the keyboard with the other. She straightened her back, opened her eyes wide, and carefully completed her ideal test paper...

I quietly sighed: "I am so naive. It turns out that I really did not understand the eternal ideal in my mother's heart, nor did I understand her dedication to me. All love. I am so selfish, alas."

[Part 2]

Youth is like a cluster of flowers, blooming so brightly; youth is like a playing piece of music, composing a moving melody; youth is like an open book, turning page by page... I have ignored a lot and misunderstood a lot. In fact, there are many things that I don’t understand. He sat quietly all day long and never spoke to others. Therefore, I have always believed that his blooming only lies in his own world. He will only sit by the window, quietly flipping through the pages of exquisite albums, and drawing gorgeous patterns with his pen. I always feel that he is so low-key with a hint of nobility and is not easy to approach.

He once suffered from polio and was a disabled person with intellectual disabilities, uncoordinated hands and feet, and incoherent language. He was only immersed in his paintings every day. He is my classmate. He sits in a corner of the class with his mouth pursed and a silly smile on his face all day long. As soon as he sat there, no one talked to him for a whole day, either because he didn't want to talk or because he didn't care. He didn't say anything, as if he was just a wisp of air. No, air sometimes has to be blown away by people.Breathing, he seemed a little redundant. Actually, I don't understand him.

By chance, I was in a good mood and said hello to him who was walking crookedly. He was obviously stunned and smiled shyly at me. My heart returned to coldness: "That's disgusting." I muttered, but he didn't seem to hear me and still kept his trademark giggle.

Time flies by, but I will never forget his smile.

Once, the physical education teacher wanted to conduct an 800-meter test, and I happened to sprain my foot while going up the stairs, and the pain was excruciating. The classmates all went downstairs, and he was the only one left, looking at me lying on the chair with his head tilted and a stupid look on his face. He stood up and said to me intermittently: "I, I, go... and... talk to the teacher." After that, he stumbled out of the classroom. Looking at his back, I felt a little sad. He was the same age as us, but he was discriminated against and ridiculed by others. He didn't complain, he just smiled silly at you. It took him a while before he came back, stumbled closer to me, panting and said intermittently: "Teacher, let you have a good rest, and call me to give you some water." He walked past me again, and called out my name in a low voice, asking me how I was doing. I was still in a daze, and he handed me another bottle of mineral water, moved his steps with difficulty, and walked away crookedly, but I didn't even say the word "thank you"! Suddenly, I remembered that he smiled at me every day, greeted me every day, and helped me with my duties. Then I realized: It was because of my unexpected greeting that he, who had always been ignored, was so grateful to me! But I have never regarded him as a friend, even once!

His kindness, simplicity, and innocence were all ignored by my indifference. It turns out that I didn't understand him.

It turns out that I didn’t understand that Orchid’s simplicity is not resting on its laurels, but quietly blooming into this wonderful world.

[Part 3]

I used to think that a good trip must be accompanied by many friends, everyone talking and laughing. I also think that every trip must be carried with a camera at all times, because every scenery needs to be recorded with a camera, so that it can be remembered.

I traveled to Sichuan last year for a few weeks. During those few weeks, I didn’t put down my camera at the scenic spots. Every time I went to a scenic spot, I kept taking pictures from different angles. After I finished shooting, I was busy chatting and joking with my friends, which I thought was wonderful.

After each trip, I seem to gain a lot and I take a lot of photos with me. But this kind of trip always makes me feel a lot less.

Later, after I read a passage written by Long Yingtai in "Watching Off", I completely changed my original idea - "What can really understand the world is a machine, not my own eyes and my own heart? The camera is not so important. It is just the annotation of my heart and the narration of my eyes." I found that although I brought back many photos every time I traveled, I only went from one scenic spot to another just to take pictures. I don't have any special memory in my heart, and I forgot that I had ever been here. It's like a fleeting time, gone forever. Once you pass it, you will forget it.

It turns out that cameras cannot actually replace our hearts and eyes. The most beautiful thing during the journey is to use your own eyes to appreciate the scenery and use your own heart to understand the various beauties in the scenery. I used to think of travel as just taking photos, not real travel. I may not always need to use a camera. I only need my eyes and heart to connect me closely with these scenes. At that time, these scenes will always remain at the edge of my heart. I will record them more minutely and carefully than what the machine can record, and they will remain deeply in my heart.

【Part 4】

It was another midwinter morning. I opened my eyes and lazily looked out the window. I only saw a scene covered in silver. The chilling scene from a year ago resurfaced in my mind.

It was a Saturday morning, and I was going to my classmates’ house to play table tennis. My mother had to follow me. I said to her impatiently, "I'm going to play with my classmates. You should go home and do housework." "But haven't you finished your homework yet?" "Anyway, I still have to write tomorrow! I finally made an appointment with my classmates today, so just let me go out!" "But the final exam is coming soon, so you have to review quickly!" "I have to go today anyway," I said, throwing away my mother and running away. "You can go wherever you want, no one will care about you." My mother's words were mixed with helplessness and helplessness.

I was very happy that day. After playing table tennis with my classmates, I went to his house to play on the computer. When I came back, it was already past two o'clock in the afternoon. I suddenly found my mother standing at the door waiting for me, her thin body shivering in the cold wind, and there were two tears on her face, obviously she had cried a lot. I thought she was going to hit me, but instead she hugged me, held my hand, and walked home with me.

When I got home, I found that my mother had cooked a delicious meal for me. I wanted to apologize to her, but she held my hand and sat on the sofa with me. She said to me: "This morning, I was a little anxious and scolded you. After that, I have been very sad and wanted to find a chance to apologize to you." After saying that, big tears fell from her face and hit my hand. Thinking of my mother's love for me for so many years, but I have been "selfishly" asking for it, I burst into tears...

Until that day, I realized that I was so ignorant. In fact, maternal love means nagging again and again, controlling again and again, tolerating again and again, and giving silently again and again... How I want to say "I'm sorry" to my mother, how I want to understand her early, so that I will not be ashamed of my love and care for my mother.

[Part 5]

To appreciate a person, you should hold your heart close to hers, sense the temperature in her heart, and appreciate the connotation in her heart.

If you want to understand a person, you need to quietly walk into her world, approach her deep and long world, and read everything deep in her heart like a deep love story. Thoughts like a sea...

——Inscription

I always feel childishly that I understand her...

In the gradually lost memory, the house is always accompanied by endless chatter, spreading and rising like a tide, until it swallows me, pushing me ruthlessly to the edge of suffocation. This "war" without gunpowder was once again triggered by my rebellious nature. Arguing, shouting, and even slammed the door this time. "Isn't it just a test? Can I still improve my grades if I fail? Is there any need to make such a fuss!" I muttered, and for the first time, the mania in my heart made me break through my reason. I took stubborn steps, accompanied by the sound of rain pattering on the street and the strong wind whistling in my ears, running towards an aimless destination. The rain soaked my clothes and started to chill my body violently. I ran for a long time before I stopped, but I saw all the strange sights in front of me, and the strange lights on the street. I didn't know where to go for a while, and my mind went blank. I was so cold that I curled up into a ball. Holding her feet, she cried uncontrollably, and her face was covered with rain or tears. Quietly leaning against the cold wall, filled with loneliness and pain, I tried hard to keep my eyes open, searching for a solid support in the night. However, until I fell asleep...unknowingly, I subconsciously opened my eyes, and saw the familiar face in front of me.Kong once again made me burst into tears. Her face was also covered with tears, and there was even mud! I hugged my mother tightly, hugged her tightly...

I was no longer childlike, and only then did I feel that I understood her!

In an instant, my heart suddenly felt her heartbeat, and my heart was always close to hers...

To read her and understand her, then you must put your heart at the same level as hers to taste the connotation and warmth of her heart.

[Part 6]

Everyone is a fortune teller. He understands others very well, but knows nothing about himself. ——Inscription

Some people say that everyone is a fortune teller, who understands others very well, but knows nothing about himself. I don’t think so, because I know myself too well. Am I not that carefree, a little careless, but generous and tolerant girl? I understand everything about me so clearly.

However, life is using facts to prove the correctness of that sentence.

In math class, after Zheng finished doing the questions, he came over to me to discuss the answers. I glanced at him and quickly closed the book to prevent him from reading. He asked me to see if his answer was the same as mine. I glanced at his casually and said, "Same, go back and do it!" But he still refused to give up and insisted on letting me open the book and compare the answers with me. I won't let you. He had no choice but to take the book back in despair, saying: "Stingy! Why have you become so stingy!"

Stingy! These two words pierced my heart like a knife. Stingy, is that me? Yeah, when did I become stingy? Thinking of my past generosity, I felt deeply guilty.

I remembered the saying that everyone is a fortune teller. He understands others very well, but he knows nothing about himself. I thought I understood it very well, but now I understand: It turns out that I didn't understand it.

[Chapter 7]

That rainy night, that late-night search for my mother, and that heart-wrenching cry, made me learn to love my mother, understand my mother, be considerate of my mother, and feel family affection. That night, I suddenly grew up overnight and understood family love...

I was so ignorant and naive at that time.

I made an appointment with my mother to go out to play with my classmates tonight. After some bargaining, I finally convinced my mother with my smooth tongue that I would get home on time at half past nine. Victorious, I strode out of the house happily. The drizzle of rain hit my face and felt cool, but I didn't feel the cool autumn feeling at all. I felt bursts of inexplicable sadness as the butterfly-like dead leaves rotated and fell.

Although the cold wind outside the window was blowing fiercely and the autumn rain was pouring down unconsciously, everyone still gathered together to laugh and play in a lively manner. Looking up at the watch, a few hours had passed before they knew it - half past nine. But the students' enthusiasm did not fade at all. I fell into a dilemma: on one side was my mother who was waiting at home, and on the other side were my classmates who were inseparable. I made a difficult decision. I wanted to stay. I thought: Anyway, the beating is done, so why not wait a little longer? But just this difference in thought caused my mother so much anxiety and worry. How could the mother walk in the heavy rain wearing thin clothes and holding an umbrella that was swayed by the strong wind? How difficult would it be? I have never thought about it, and I have never dared to think about it.

At nearly ten o'clock, I stepped into the door of my house. The house was dark and dead, no one? Where will mom go? Familiar footsteps sounded in the corridor. I stood up and opened the door, and she walked in.Come, the soaked clothes were dripping with water, and the disheveled hair was stranded by the rain. She said nothing, but the moment she turned back, I saw a crystal teardrop falling, which hit my heart and was cold to the bone. I panicked, and then started crying heartbreakingly. My mother had paid so much for me, but I never understood why. But when those tears hit my heart, I understood and how to feel.

That night, I stayed up all night, tossed and turned, and I learned too much...

Family love is the most difficult thing to understand in the world, but at that moment I learned how to feel...

[Part 8]

Youth, Like clusters of flowers, blooming so brilliantly; youth, like played music, composing a moving melody; youth, like an open book, turning page by page... It turns out that I simply thought that youth was just a period of time, and after that, it was like a sea breeze, whizzing by with waves. But obviously, for me, who has now embarked on the journey of youth: It turns out that I did not understand. In fact, in this short period of time, youth is also full of struggle.

The story of Paul Korchagin must be familiar to everyone. When I was in elementary school, when I opened the book "How Steel Was Tempered", I saw Paul and his father and brothers galloping on the battlefield together in the war years of blood and fire. He worked hard to defend the Soviet regime and fought bloody battles against foreign armed interventionists and the White Army. When he fought against the life-devouring disease, he frightened the god of death many times and created the miracle of "resurrection from the dead"; especially when he was on the hospital bed. The process of striving to reach the palace of art shows the highest state that a warrior's steely will can achieve. At that time, what I learned from him was only his spirit of self-dedication, unswerving determination, and tenacious will. Now, I understand that at that time, I did not understand that in those youthful years, faced with all the setbacks and difficulties, faced with the terrible disease, such a young man was not devastated by the blow, but became more and more courageous, facing the difficulties, and composed with his amazing will With the moving melody of youth, he uses his constant struggle to sing the sweet song of youth that belongs to him!

"All the endings have been written, and all the tears have started, but suddenly I forgot what kind of beginning it was, in that ancient summer that will never come back." Xi Murong's poems have a strong sense of imagery. His poems are ethereal, fantastic, and endlessly memorable. The poem "Youth" laments the sadness of losing youth. "Then I opened the yellowed title page. Destiny told me that the binding was extremely poor. With tears in my eyes, I read it again and again, but I had to admit that youth is a book that is too hasty." In the short period of youth, too much ignorance and ignorance are recorded, and there are always mistakes and regrets, the feeling of regretting too late, rebellion and publicity, tears and hesitation, and unspeakable hurt... When youth is around, people are often not mature enough, don't know or have no plans, and the fastest time is the best time. When youth is gone, when I think about it again, I feel a little busy, a little young, and a little regretful. However, it is useless to sigh. Youth has been written, but it is a book that is too hasty.

The original thing is that I didn’t understand that only by striving for youth, our youth will no longer be just a short time, but a moment of beauty blooming like fireworks. So if you want to stop wasting your youth, please work hard and seize the moment!

I will share the content here today about the original I didn’t understand the 500-word composition. Thank you for taking the time to read the content of this site. For more information about the original I didn’t understand the 500-word composition, don’t forget to search on this site.