There are different stories about parents' love.

The story of father's love: the story of father

People who care about us the most are often around, but we all ignore them. ...

On this day, the painter Liu Dabao finished his day's work and just got home exhausted when he heard his son Liu Xiaoxiao's cheerful cry: "Dad, give me one hundred yuan quickly. I want to take part in the composition contest, and the top ten will win the computer! "

Liu Dabao stare big eyes: "What? Registration is 100 yuan? " He hurriedly asked his son about the game. It turns out that this is a municipal composition competition for primary school students. The top ten prizes in the competition are computers, and the winning students have the opportunity to enter the city's key middle schools.

Liu Dabao can't help but be happy and worried. Fortunately, if my son really wins the lottery, he can get the computer he dreams of; What is worrying is that this hundred dollars is almost half a month's food for their father and son. If they don't get it, won't the hundred dollars be sent to Shui Piao?

Liu Dabao thought about it, but still took out some crumpled tickets from his pocket, counted them, stuffed them into his son's hand, and then told him to have a good game. Liu Xiaoxiao smiled and agreed.

From that day on, Liu Dabao was full of expectations for his son's game. That night, Liu Dabao came home, and his son listlessly handed in an admission notice.

LiuDaBao a look, and sighed heavily. The title of this competition is "My Father", which requires the content to be true and touching. There is also a special note: the organizing Committee of the contest will verify the content of the composition, and if it is found to be false, it will be disqualified. Liu Xiaoxiao looked up at Liu Dabao and asked, "Dad, what touching story do you have?"

This question can be given to Liu Dabao. Liu Dabao is just a painter. He is busy from morning till night every day and earns very little money. Most of them have to be sent back to their hometown to see their father, and the rest are barely enough for him and his son to live. How can such an ordinary person have a touching story?

Liu Xiaoxiao pouted and said, "Dad, you don't have a story, and I can't make it up. How to write this composition? " I still don't want to take part in this competition. "

Liu Dabao thought for a moment and said to his son, "Don't worry, wait until I tell you what happened."

From that day on, Liu Dabao walked around the street when he had nothing to do, hoping to find a chance to do something good and tell himself a story to make his son's composition have a content. But he looked for many days and didn't get a chance to do good.

The game is almost over. Liu Dabao hasn't found the story yet. Liu Xiaoxiao was completely desperate and never mentioned the competition again. Liu Dabao is as anxious as a cat on hot bricks. He simply asked the foreman for two days off and wandered the streets, but he still couldn't find the story. Liu Dabao gradually became disappointed.

Just because he didn't have a story delayed his son's game and delayed his son's future. Liu Dabao feels very guilty. On this day, he deliberately dug out some tickets, rushed to the vegetable market, bought a fish, a piece of meat and a bottle of coke, and ran home to cook.

Suddenly, there was a loud noise and it began to rain cats and dogs. Liu Dabao thought that his son didn't bring rain gear, so he greeted him at the school gate wearing a raincoat and an umbrella.

No sooner had Liu Dabao arrived at the school gate than a middle-aged man ran over and said to him affectionately, "Lao Liu, you have made my search very hard."

Liu Dabao looked at him carefully, feeling familiar, but he couldn't remember where he had met.

The middle-aged man put a good cigarette into Liu Dabao's arms and said with a smile, "Don't you remember? I am from the upstairs where you work. "

Liu Dabao remembered this reminder. Not long ago, he went to work in an employer's house. A neighbor upstairs came to the employer's house to see the decoration several times, as if his surname was Zhao. Liu Dabao returned the cigarette plug to him and said, "Miss Zhao, just say what you have to say."

Mr Zhao said, "I have something very important to tell you. But this is not the place to talk. Let's go to your house and talk. "

Liu Dabao is puzzled: if the other person is not related to himself, what can be important? But he repeatedly asked, Mr. Zhao still refused to say, only that his daughter and Liu Dabao's son were in the same class. Liu Dabao thought about it and agreed. Then, Liu Dabao contacted Liu Xiaoxiao, and Mr. Zhao also contacted his daughter Feifei. The four of them came to Liu Dabao's home together.

Liu Dabao asked Liu Xiaoxiao and Feifei to do their homework in the room. He and Miss Zhao were chatting in the kitchen. Teacher Zhao showed him a composition written by Feifei. Liu Dabao was surprised when he saw it.

Feifei's composition topic is My Dad. She also took part in the competition, but she wrote Liu Dabao instead of her father, Miss Zhao. Especially Liu Dabao's little secret, she wrote it vividly. Liu Dabao was very sad after reading it, and then moved.

It turned out that Liu Dabao always tried his best to earn face for his son in front of his classmates in order not to let his son feel inferior. Every time he picks up his son, he has to put on a clean suit and a pair of new leather shoes, which he painted.

On one occasion, Feifei followed her father to see the decoration of the house downstairs. She happened to see Liu Dabao brushing his shoes and asked him curiously what he was doing. Liu Dabao said it casually, but I didn't expect it to be written in Feifei's composition, so well written.

Liu Dabao couldn't help but praise Feifei for her good eyesight, good mind and good writing. Her composition is so touching that she is sure to win the prize.

Teacher Zhao, however, said with a sad face: Feifei's composition has been read by several senior Chinese teachers and the evaluation is good. There should be no problem winning the prize, but now it involves a problem: untrue.

Unreal composition is not eligible to participate in this composition contest. He once asked Feifei to rewrite it, but the effect was not as good as this. Now he has thought of a good way to solve this problem, that is, let Liu Dabao recognize Feifei as his goddaughter, so that this composition can participate in the competition aboveboard.

Liu Dabao froze.

Mr. Zhao said quickly that Liu Dabao, a Michel Platini, would not waste it. He is willing to pay two thousand dollars as a gift from michel platini for his daughter.

Hearing this, Liu Dabao could get 2,000 yuan just by nodding his head. He was moved. The two thousand dollars, but he worked hard for two months to earn. But on second thought, he shook his head firmly: "I can't promise you."

Mr. Zhao was stunned: "Why?"

Liu Dabao said: "My stories are all for my son. If your daughter were asked to write, what would my son write? "

Teacher Zhao thought for a moment and said, "Then take out your son's composition and see if it is written well by my Feifei." If he writes better than Feifei, I won't say anything. If he can't write well, isn't that a waste? "

Liu Dabao opened his mouth, but he was speechless. For so many days, my son always thought he had no story and didn't write a word At this moment, Liu Xiaoxiao suddenly pushed the door and came in. He said to Mr. Zhao, "Uncle, I heard everything you both said. As long as you promise me one condition, I will let my father recognize Feifei as his adopted daughter. "

Mr. Zhao paused, then smiled: "What conditions? Tell me quickly. "

Liu Xiaoxiao said slowly, "We don't want your money, just your story."

Hearing this, Mr. Zhao quickly shook his head: "Where is my story?" If there is, let Feifei write it. What makes her recognize your father as michel platini? "

Liu Xiaoxiao stubbornly shook his head: "I didn't find the story from my father, Feifei found it." I think maybe it is easier for us to find stories from strangers. I just want to see if I can find a good story from you. "As he spoke, he watched Zhao Liang carefully. Suddenly, he shouted in surprise, "Uncle, what's with the big bag on your forehead?" "

Mr. Zhao touched the big swelling on his forehead and sighed, saying that in fact, not only foreigners like them have a hard life, but also people in the city.

The house where his family lives was bought with a loan. In order to repay the loan as soon as possible, he has to work part-time besides going to work normally, and he has to do it at 1 am every day. Last night, he was so tired that he fell asleep unconsciously. He accidentally knocked on the table and knocked out the big bag.

Suddenly, Feifei pushed the door and came in, staring at her father. Her eyes were red and she gently pulled Mr. Zhao's arm: "Dad, I'm sorry. I didn't know you were working part-time at night. I thought you went out to play. I don't recognize this godfather, so I will write about you-my dear father! " After that, she grabbed the composition from Liu Dabao, tore it into pieces, and then took her father away.

After Mr. Zhao and Feifei left, Liu Dabao hurried to pick up those pieces of paper. Liu Xiaoxiao stopped him, and Liu Dabao said, "This composition is so well written that it is definitely no problem to take it to the competition."

Liu Xiaoxiao shook his head and said, "I must write a better composition so that more people can see my dear father."

Liu Xiaoxiao said, holding Liu Dabao's muddy shoes and watching them carefully. He found that his father's leather shoes were very old and worn, with several patches on them and many times of painting. Each pigment is a natural color carefully prepared by his father. ...

The story of maternal love: a foot of maternal love

Shortly before my 1 1 birthday, the doctor found cancer cells in my mother. I know that cancer is a very serious disease, and my grandmother died of cancer. However, my mother said that she only needs to go to the hospital for a while. Although she will be weak and lose a lot of hair, she will get better in the end.

When I said this, my mother had a relaxed smile on her face, so we don't have to worry too much.

One afternoon, my mother called my 7-year-old sister Molly and me into the bedroom and said, "Would you please do something for my mother?"

"Is it something to help you prepare for going to the hospital?" I know, she will start chemotherapy tomorrow.

Mother shook her head, hugged my sister and me, kissed each of us on the forehead, and then stood up and looked at herself in the mirror. Although only wearing sweatpants and a wide T-shirt, my mother is still a beauty, especially her long chestnut hair, which is soft and smooth and a foot long, which makes my sister and I envy.

"I want you to cut my hair." Mother handed me the scissors on the dresser.

"What? Give you a haircut? " I was shocked. Even if I am only 1 1 years old, I know that no one will let the children cut their own hair, especially my mother, who takes care of her hair very much.

I picked up a lock of my mother's hair and put it between scissors: "Are you sure?"

"Sure, please do it." Mother smiled naughtily. "I need a haircut."

Although I like playing with Barbie's hair best, it's the first time to cut a real person's hair. I'm a little excited and nervous. The silver blade closed with a click, and a lock of hair fell to the ground quietly.

Soon, Molly joined the team of hair stylists.

Click-

"Oh, it's too short!" I shouted.

"It doesn't matter, it looks good!" Mom said with a smile.

Click-

"Oh, it's cut short again!" I'm annoyed.

"This is not very good? Cut it boldly, it's really good! " Mother smiled and encouraged us.

That afternoon, the dormitory was full of our laughter, and there was more and more hair on the ground.

When we finished, mom's hair was only two or three inches long, as if she had just lost the battle with the lawn mower. However, my mother smiled in the mirror, hugged us and said, "thank you, babies, I like this hairstyle so much." It looks like tina turner, a rock star. "

The three of us hugged and laughed. There hasn't been such a loud laugh at home for a long time since my mother was ill.

In the evening, my father was startled when he saw my mother. Mom casually said, "I asked Jesse and Molly to cut it." Hair will fall out after chemotherapy anyway. It is better to make children happy. "

1 1 years old, I didn't care about this conversation. Now, I am also a mother. Looking back on that winter afternoon, I finally realized what an amazing woman my mother was. Facing illness and death, she gave us the last thing.