The story composition of me and my collection.

(1) 300-word composition about me and my collection.

Baiyun is a collection that replicates the blue sky, with the innocence of the blue sky in purity; Stars are a collection of the night sky, and the light of the night sky is reflected in the flicker; The spray is a collection of the sea, and there is a surge of the sea in the rolling.

I like collecting stamps because I am attracted by its colorful patterns. When I opened the first page of the stamp album, I saw a beautiful stamp. There is a little mouse with a crooked head on it, watching you laugh!

I continued to turn it over, and suddenly a clever stamp caught my eye. There is a glass factory in Luoyang with an institutional design on it. Looking at these stamps, I think of the prosperity of my motherland. My father told me that stamps represent an important factor in the development of a country. Stamps are also divided into stamp types! There are ordinary stamps, ordinary stamps, commemorative stamps, donation stamps, special stamps, airmail stamps, military stamps, unpaid stamps, parcel stamps and remittance stamps.

Legend has it that the stamp was issued in 1840, and the British gentleman Hill saw a girl arguing with the messenger and came up with this idea!

I like my collections, because they bring me endless happiness, just like white clouds in the blue sky, starlight in the night sky and waves in the sea!

(2) Write a composition with a portfolio of my family.

My baby

It is not a rare treasure, nor does it have a gorgeous appearance; It is not extremely precious, and it is not rare in the world. But it is regarded as a treasure by me and has been collected so far.

It does not reflect the twists and turns of bizarre stories, nor does it contain the plot that makes people cry. Very ordinary, but it runs through a special experience and a different feeling.

It has been put on the cabinet above my desk with many handicrafts. This is an ostrich egg. It is white and big, ten times bigger than ordinary eggs. At the bottom, there is a small hole. On its body, there are some thin cracks, which are the curves drawn by time on it.

Some people will say, what's so strange about ostrich eggs? You can see them in the craft shop. Why not buy one? But my ostrich egg, which is not from a handicraft shop, leads to a story: when I was seven or eight years old, I went to a remedial class, and a classmate with me invited me to his house for dinner. Of course, I agreed happily with my parents' consent. When I arrived at his home, his parents said they would send me something special, saying it was delicious. I was a greedy cat at that time, but I couldn't wait to try. After a while, the food was served. When I saw it, it was a plate of scrambled eggs. The color of the egg is golden yellow, which is much more beautiful than ordinary eggs, and the fragrance of temptation comes to my face. I put a piece in my mouth, and it tastes soft and smooth, accompanied by a strong aroma. It's really delicious! I am unforgettable.

After dinner, almost intoxicated with this dish, I eagerly asked my uncle and aunt where I bought this egg. They looked at me in the dark and said with a smile, "This is not an egg, it is an ostrich egg!" " ""what? Are they ostrich eggs? ！” I shouted in surprise. It never occurred to me that what I just ate was an ostrich egg! I really wanted to see what ostrich eggs looked like, so my uncle and aunt took them out. The first time I saw this strange thing, my impression was big and white. Of course, there is a small hole at the bottom to let the egg yolk and egg white flow out. I held it in my hand and played with it repeatedly because it was too novel for me. My aunt and uncle loved it and gave it to me when they left. In this way, it came to my locker.

Later, I learned that all the crafts shops sell empty eggshells. It's hard to get a complete ostrich egg like this. I don't know how my classmate's parents got it. Maybe it took a lot of effort! I haven't eaten since that day.

My baby

Treasure refers to exquisite objects with extraordinary value, which everyone loves, loves its beauty and loves its price. In fact, these things are very few. But the treasure in my heart is priceless. In my eyes, it is the most beautiful, lovely and precious treasure in the world. who is it? It's my favorite since I was a child-a cute little puppet.

Don't underestimate it as a necessary puppet for thousands of children. It is ordinary and disapproving, but it has accompanied me to grow up and experienced many laughter and tears. Although I am only a child of 13 years old, I am not as weather-beaten and experienced as an adult, not to mention many painful things, but setbacks are common. There are many middle school students like me, and now we have entered a colorful youth. When there are many problems, you should have your own motto and remind yourself at all times. And my motto storage is my playmate-puppet.

I remember this little puppet was the last one my parents gave me, because I was over six years old at that time. When I got this little puppet, I was ecstatic and held it all night. I just can't put it down. But in my memory, once, I played with my cousin, and I was in high spirits. Suddenly, I heard a bang behind me, and my father's favorite little vase fell to the ground and broke into pieces. I thought it was none of my business, but when I thought about it, I just took my father's vase to fill it with water, and then I put it casually, maybe by the table, and then I went to play, but I didn't put it steady. There used to be water everywhere, but now there are tiles everywhere. Too bad. My parents cleaned up this time ... during this period of thinking, I heard some horrible footsteps approaching, just like the footsteps of dinosaurs. No, it is an elephant. I really want to escape, but I can't escape from home. I hold my beloved puppet, and my palms are sweating. What should I do? Mom and dad came in at the same time. When they saw this situation in the hall, they flew into a rage and immediately asked, "Who did it?" It must be you, naughty boy! "They looked at me angrily. My face was as red as a ripe apple, and I immediately said, "It's not me, it's her, it's my cousin! ""I held the puppet tighter. Cousin defended: "Not me, I didn't ..." "You did it!" I interrupted her. She cried unjustly, and her mother immediately stroked her head and told her not to cry. Dad said to me, "Don't pass the buck. I know you made a mess. I am distressed that you broke my favorite vase, but I am even more distressed that you lied to me. " We have taught you to be honest since childhood, you know? "Although my father's voice is calm, there is an irresistible force. As soon as I spoke, my tears flowed down like broken beads, wetting the puppets. I ran into the room, climbed into bed and cried, locking the door. I kept holding the puppet and soon fell asleep. In my dream, I heard a strange voice, "Little Master, what's wrong with you?" "Who are you?" I asked doubtfully. Suddenly I saw my little puppet, and it could talk. "You really made a mistake this time. "I know. I shouldn't lie to my parents, but I don't want to be scolded by them, so I have to put the blame on my cousin! "I looked down and said." But have you ever thought about your cousin's mood? If you say that, she may be scolded innocently. Isn't she afraid of being scolded by your parents? She is younger than you, so you bully her if you are not sensible. It is very selfish of you to do so. You lie. This is not a good boy's behavior! "Hearing this, my face was like being thrown into my face by one tomato after another. I said, "I made a mistake. I will apologize to my cousin and my parents. " The puppet is getting farther and farther away from me, and I vaguely hear: "little master, a good boy who corrects his mistakes." You will always be my good master, and I am willing to grow up with you! "... I woke up and found myself holding a puppet, and my father, mother and cousin were next door to me. I summoned up the courage to apologize, but I was afraid. I looked at the puppet and remembered what it said to me. I said to my mother, "I'm sorry, mom and dad!" "I shouldn't lie, I shouldn't be so willful, I'm sorry, I want you to worry." Then I said to my cousin, "I'm sorry, would you please forgive me?" My sister repeatedly said, "Of course, of course!" Dad patiently said to me, "We will forgive you. You are a good boy. I hope you think so. It doesn't matter if dad's vase is broken. You can buy it again, but you can't buy it if you are sensible. " Mother said, "Our daughter has grown up. When things go wrong, she knows how to think and can correct her mistakes. She is really a good child! " "Hearing this, the heavy feeling in my heart suddenly disappeared without a trace. I looked at the little puppet again. It's smiling, smiling brilliantly, as if praising me!

How time flies! In a blink of an eye, I was thirteen years old again. Every time I see this little puppet, I will think of something that has benefited me a lot, an unforgettable sentence. These are precious memories that the puppet gave me. Whenever I encounter any problem and can't solve it, these memories will always sound an alarm in my ear, telling me not to give up and lead me to the road to solving the problem.

My baby

There is a yellow shirt hanging in my closet. It was not yellow originally, because it was stored for too long and became an "antique".

This is not an ordinary shirt, it embodies my mother's endless love for me. Every time I see it, I can't help thinking of that thing that I will never forget.

That was when I was nine years old. My family lives on the 13 floor of a high-rise building. One night, I suddenly had a high fever and my father was on a business trip. In desperation, my mother took me to the hospital alone. When I arrived at the hospital, I queued for registration, queuing for medical treatment, queuing for medicine, queuing for puncture, and then intravenous drip for a long time. By the time it was all over, it was already past 2 o'clock the next morning. My mother supported me physically and mentally and walked out of the hospital.

The taxi took us to the door and looked at the tall building. I was worried: the elevator stopped, how can we get upstairs? Our family lives on such a high floor. How easy is it to take the stairs? But mom made a quick decision and said, "I'll carry you upstairs." I strongly disagree, but I got dizzy after just two steps, so my mother had to carry it.

At first, my mother was not very tired, and her pace was fairly easy. But with the passage of time and the increase of floors, I obviously felt that my mother was tired. In the quiet corridor, my mother's rough breathing is so clear. Unconsciously, the mother's forehead oozed with bean-sized sweat, and her white silk shirt was soaked with sweat. I know, this is a new shirt that my father bought for my mother. My mother likes that white shirt very much, and she is careful in everything for fear of getting dirty. At this time, she couldn't take care of her shirt, so I reminded her: "Mom, you are tired, and your new shirt is wet. Let's have a rest before we go! " "Mom disagreed:" Nothing, just go back and wash. "I was lying on my mother's back, and tears blurred my eyes. My mother carried me to 13 floor and carried me home.

Once in the house, my mother can't rest. She is busy boiling water, making medicine and urging me to take medicine. After settling me down, she changed her shirt. I thought my mother would wash it soon, but my mother looked at that shirt for a long time. I asked doubtfully, "Mom, what happened to your shirt?" Is it wrinkled? "Mom smiled:" Never mind, just iron it with an electric iron. "

A few days later, I saw that my mother had never worn that washed and ironed shirt. I didn't know until I asked, the shirt hooked a lot of silk, which was caused by the zipper on the chest. Since then, although my mother has never worn that shirt again, I often open the closet and feel it. I can see that my mother still loves this shirt.

Four years later, we moved twice, but the shirt is still hanging in my closet. Every time I see it, I will think of what happened a few years ago, and I will deeply feel the greatness of maternal love, the warmth of family affection and the preciousness of family affection.

(3) I write with art stories.

Learning art

Music is an art. I think it is the most beautiful of all arts, because it can touch our souls. When the high emotions can't be vented, listen to music, all the troubles will disappear and life will become wonderful again.

Nowadays, people are often burdened with various problems and pressures. They live a dusty life all day long, are confused under the mirage of the city, and don't care about their daily feelings. Slowly, they all become the same machine, shrouded in gloom. On the other hand, music is a good medicine for them to regain their former vitality.

I don't know whether music is like mood or mood is like music! Maybe music and mood are one! Man and nature are also one! Music itself is life-life is music.

Music can purify people's minds. People immersed in the music world tend to be more open-minded, sensitive, emotionally stable, and more able to understand other people's feelings, so it is easier to get along with others. At the same time, they are more likely to feel the joy of life and love life.

Music is a good teacher. It will bring your mind out of the hustle and bustle, bring it to a quiet land, and calm your restless mind. Music is your friend when you are happy and your partner when you are frustrated.

Music can play too many roles of truth, goodness and beauty, and its role is also indispensable in life. It is a good way for human beings to cultivate their sentiments and a ladder for the spread of civilization. Let music enter everyone's heart, understand the most beautiful truth, and feel the rhythm of human true feelings! ! ! !

-Let music enter the mind!

(4) Collecting story compositions

collection of stories

I don't have any hobbies, I can't sing, and they all say that I am tone-deaf; I can't dance, everyone says I'm around, because I'm left-handed; I don't know art, but I always say that I paint like a ghost. But I don't know why, I'm crazy about collecting. This is because I lost the ancient coins that my grandmother tricked me into playing with.

It was when I was four years old. Because my grandmother moved from Barkun to Hami, I changed to a new environment. I have no friends to cry with, and my grandparents have nothing to play with. My grandmother gave me a hemp money. I didn't know it was my grandfather's collection at that time. I threw this hemp money out to see if it was positive or negative. I threw it upstairs and then downstairs, and suddenly a little friend picked it up. You see copper coins flying in the air, but when they fall, they run to the small hole in the manhole cover and can't be found again. I looked at the hole and woke up to realize that I was in trouble. I cried and told my grandparents about it, but my grandfather complained that my grandmother gave me an ancient coin from the Qianlong period, which is rare and precious at present. My grandfather was depressed for several days. I told grandpa I'd get it back for you.

5] My story collection and I write 50 words.

This book came into my world when I was a child, and it was very interesting and mysterious in my heart. When I was a child, I had many books, but I knew those who couldn't read. I can't read! I don't know how interesting books are, so I ask my mother to tell me stories before going to bed every day. I think it is the best time of the day when I listen to stories. When my mother is not free, she always shows me a picture book and sends me away. At first, I will only look at color pictures, but I won't look at the stories and explanations of pictures.

Once, when I was still in middle school, I listened to the story of colorful flowers told by my mother and made up my mind to look for the magical, beautiful and hungry colorful flowers. I am very shy, and I am not afraid of the ridicule of my classmates. I walked into the blooming grass and slowly looked at them one by one. Think about my wishes while looking for them. In the process of my search, what made me ecstatic most was that I found a tricolor flower. Yellow, red and orange are well matched! I was so happy that I carefully picked it off for my classmates who laughed at me. They all looked at "Tricolor Flower" in surprise. Books filled my childhood with joy.

Finally, I am in Grade One, Grade Two and Grade Three ... I can read books. With the growth of my age, I gradually like fairy tales, novels, composition books and other books with words. Fairy tales brought me into the world of Snow White, White Rabbit and Cinderella. When I see them overcome evil and get happiness, I will be happy and jump for joy. This book turned out to be so interesting! I have stepped up my pace in the world of books!

The book is like a big magnet, which attracts me tightly. Every time I get a new book, I can't wait to read it all at once. Seeing a book is like a thirsty person seeing the sweet spring and a hungry person seeing the dry food. I swam in the sea of books to my heart's content, absorbing the nutrition inside.

[6] My story composition

The story of me and "puppy"

Me and the puppy

At noon, on my way home with my uncle and aunt in the park, I saw a puppy following two big sisters. I tease the puppy and the puppy follows me. I just know that this puppy is not the dog of two big sisters.

I looked at the puppy carefully. The dog's body, legs and tail are all black; The long hair of the whole body is tightly attached to the body; It's like coming out of a puddle The puppy's ears are upright, its nose is small and it is shaking all over. My watery eyes looked at me and chirped as if to say, "Help me!" " " .

My uncle and aunt said, "Who lost this?" I think this puppy is so poor, so I said, "This puppy is so poor, I want to take this puppy home!" " "My uncle said," Your parents won't let you take the puppy, which will affect your study. " I quickly said, "I will give it to my grandfather when I leave, and it will not affect my study." "

When I arrived at my aunt's house, I said to her, "This puppy is so poor. I brought it back and gave it a hot bath. Aunt agreed, and the puppy was very good in the shower. The unkempt hot water soaked the puppy. The puppy shook his little head, his ears shook like a wave drum, and his big eyes kept blinking, which was very comfortable. I picked up its little feet, and it also cooperated with me. I held its little feet, and it didn't resist, so it was given to me. My black hair turned white after taking a shower. I blow the puppy's hair with a hair dryer. After blowing, wet hair becomes warm and dry and feels like cotton. The puppy has changed, all white, like a lamb; My ears are drooping, and my hair on my forehead is long and white, like wearing a furry white hat.

After taking a bath, the puppy has been following me. If you don't see me, you're chirping like you're calling me.

I will go to school in Xinjiang the next day, so I will entrust the puppy to my grandparents and let them take good care of it. The dog was still chasing the car when we said goodbye. After I left, I often called my grandparents and asked how the puppy was.

(7) My collection of primary school students' compositions is within 600 words.

My collection is the breath of my hometown. In early spring, before the flowers bloom, I will go to the top of the high mountain and step on the faint footprints on the residual snow. Smelling the branches that I have climbed will always remind me of my hometown. It seems to remind me of how many past events I have collected and how many I have had.

My collection is an elegant cup of green tea. In the cold weather, I make a pot of tea and pour it myself, just like how many times I sat on the carpet yesterday and spoke loudly and impassioned. Now, there is only a faint scent of tea, quietly tasting how many past events I have collected and how many times.

My collection is a Changle. In the season of picking roses, touch the clouds and strings, and then smell the sadness of the waves and metaphors. On a rainy and moonlit night, stepping out of the Chunjiang River, I remember how the piano played against the piano and how many worries were carried by the sound of silk and bamboo. Under the dim light, I heard in the string of lights how many times I collected the past.

What I collect is a romantic poem, what kind of artistic conception the flowers by the lake contain in the ups and downs of tone! In retrospect, Wan Li was ice and snow, how heroic it was! In Meng Yi's light pen and white and magnificent poems, it seems to recall how many times I have collected the past.

Collection, in memory, is a bunch of flowers. Although the scissors are still messy, they taste like memories. Although things are complicated, things in memory can still be "like flowers".

The collection is rock solid. Flying in all directions, the old wings have been hot and cold several times. The ups and downs of the world and the vicissitudes of life have worn out your body and your heart, but they can't penetrate your collected past. Every time I open it with trembling hands, I can't help crying.

My collection is a hidden glassy quiet memory.

I left quietly, just as I came gently; Let the spring condense into a monologue in my memory.

My collective composition is 400 words.

In front of my desk, there is a beautiful handicraft-"Shuanglong Play Pearl". This is my most precious collection.

Last New Year's Eve, my family watched the Spring Festival Gala together. At that time, the three hands of the clock pointed to "12" at the same time. My mother took out a handicraft and said to me, "I knew you were crazy about dragons. This is a special New Year gift from my mother! " "wow! Two dragons playing with pearls! " I took the gift and couldn't help sighing, "This is still made of crystal. It's so beautiful! "

I can't put down the exquisite handicrafts. I saw two crystal dragons about 8 cm long on the crystal platform. Their looks are really as written in the book: "horns are like deer, heads are like cows, mouths are like donkeys, eyes are like shrimp, ears are like elephants, scales are like fish, they must be like people, bellies are like snakes, and feet are like phoenixes." Two dragons * * * caught a smooth and bright ball. There are several auspicious clouds beside the dragon, symbolizing beauty. Careful observation shows that the dragon's beard is also plated with a layer of gold, which makes this handicraft look luxurious.

Dragon, a mythical beast in ancient China, is also the beast of September 1st and a symbol of the Chinese nation. The dragon gathers all kinds of abilities, symbolizing China people's yearning and pursuit for freedom and perfection. After countless rain, snow, wind and frost, the dragon has always held its head high in the East. Therefore, I have always longed for a dragon handicraft. No, my mother knew my wish and gave me this precious "Dragon Play Pearl" handicraft during the Spring Festival.

I know that my mother gave me a new year gift of "playing with dragons and pearls", which was full of her expectations. I hope I can make rapid progress like a dragon in the new year. I secretly said to myself: Chen Kexiang, you must study hard and don't disappoint your mother's hope! "Two Dragons Playing with Beads" inspires me to keep moving forward!

Grandpa's collection of stories

As long as I can remember, my yard is full of bottles and jars collected by my grandfather. The old man is so careful with those treasures that his family can't touch them. When I was six years old, I went to play in my grandfather's study and accidentally broke one of his teapots. My grandfather always regards me as the apple of his eye. "

Hanyin

As long as I can remember, my yard is full of bottles and jars collected by my grandfather. The old man is so careful with those treasures that his family can't touch them. When I was six years old, I went to play in my grandfather's study and accidentally broke one of his teapots. My grandfather, who has always regarded me as the apple of his eye, suddenly strained his face. ...

Grandpa's favorite thing to do is to hold me in his arms, holding things carefully in his hand and telling me their origins. As he spoke, the old man sometimes laughed and sometimes shed tears. At that time, my cautious eyes were full of curiosity about those things. Why do these cold things affect the mood of the elderly?

Time flies, more than twenty years have passed. Once, I led a Tibetan friend into the study and introduced these treasures left by my grandfather to him. I pointed to a vase: "How much do you think it is worth?" My friend smiled and said, "I'm not afraid of your disappointment. Everything in your room is worthless. " I froze, and my friend said, "These things are neither old nor unusual, so ..."

I suddenly returned to my childhood: one summer afternoon, my grandfather squatted under the willow tree and hugged me. He took the hair clasp and said, "son, this belongs to your grandmother." Your grandfather gave it to her when she married our family. She treats it as a treasure all her life, and only wears it during the Chinese New Year. When your grandmother died, she left me this hair clasp. You should take good care of it in the future. " I just nodded puzzled.

Now, looking at the bottles and jars in the room, I suddenly understand that although these things are worthless, a comb is a story, a string of copper coins is a memory, and the meat cleaver of the years has left deep lines on grandpa's face that cannot be filled. When grandpa collects them, he also collects memories, feelings and years ... but these can't be measured by money, because collection is also a kind of collection.

⑽ Write a specific composition about the story between me and an object that is important to me.