1On August 28th, 937, it was dark and the sun was covered by layers of dark clouds. However, Shanghai South Railway Station is still bustling, and people who are going to leave by train don't realize that a small group of fully armed Japanese soldiers are approaching the gate of the railway station. With submachine guns in their hands and bullet bags hanging around their waists, they quickly scanned the busy people around them with wolf-like eyes.

Suddenly, a commander-like man raised his submachine gun and shot at the noisy crowd. Several young people at the ticket gate were frightened by this sudden attack and immediately fell into a pool of blood. Those children who sit in front of the podium and have a rest and play, some of them are timid and have long been scared to cry; There are also some courageous people who fled in all directions. The whole railway station is shrouded in fear, and there is a murderous look in the air.

With the buzzing sound, several bow-tie fighters of different colors and shapes flew here. I saw them hovering over the railway station like fierce eagles, dropping several bombs and then flying away. Bombs fell into the south station like lightning, and the bustling south station an hour ago instantly turned into ruins.

A series of immature cries came from the ruins of the South Railway Station, and I saw a little boy sitting on the blood-spattered ground crying helplessly. He is in rags, his thin body supports his huge head, and he is obviously a poor child with malnutrition. He is a poor child and the luckiest one at the same time. When the enemy plane dropped the bomb, the young parents put the sleeping child under their bodies and provided him with a refuge with their lives. A few minutes later, a steel plate fell right on the couple. ...

When the child woke up, he could no longer find his parents among the unrecognizable bodies around him. The child may have realized that the person who loves him most has left him, and he doesn't know what else to do except cry. Ah! This is a baby about 1 year old. He was covered in blood, some wounds were covered with soot, and some wounds had suppurated. No wonder he cried so hard. When the enemy plane dropped the bomb, his parents pinned him down and provided him with shelter with their lives. How lucky he is, he is the only one who miraculously survived the explosion. Two days later, the unconscious child was rescued by the search and rescue team of the Soviet Embassy in China, and his parents were crushed to death.

At that time, the search and rescue captain told reporters: "In this case, there are really not many people who can be rescued in China." Now, the child is 70 years old and lives in Russia. The Japanese bombing of Shanghai South Railway Station left an indelible shadow on him. Here, I want to appeal to the world: "Save children, push the war into the abyss and bring peace with us."

2. How to write the story in the fourth grade composition photo?

When I was leafing through the photo album full of memories, those wonderful scenes came into view again. A photo, a thousand memories, a photo of ten thousand moods, each photo is worth collecting and unique. If you look at the past "memories", it will definitely bring back deep memories.

As the years passed, when I saw a little girl sitting on the beach in a bathing suit, I closed my eyes slightly, just like a movie replay. "Kakaka ..." I went back a few years ago ... it was my first contact with the sea and I came to the seaside with curiosity. "Wow-ah-"I shouted excitedly. I saw the sea rushing to the beach wave after wave, and I waved my hand. Maybe I ran a little slower, or the sea rushed to my calf, and my skin immediately opened its mouth and drank the sea water. It's especially refreshing to find the sea water so cold for the first time. My mother hugged me at once. "Baby, don't play in the water. You are too young. Just play with the sand on the beach!" "Well," I replied. I sat on the beach and played with the sand with great interest. Children, everything is interesting. The high tide came, and the sea rushed to attack me until it was submerged. I held my head high, frowned, stared ahead, closed my mouth and plunged my shovel into the sand. I was so nervous that I didn't find my feet buried in the sand! Just when I was unprepared, the sea jumped with a jerk. "Poof-"is salty and astringent. I spit out all the water in my mouth, and I can't wait to spit out all the water in my stomach. I cried in fear, and my mother comforted me with some love. Although I took a gulp of seawater, I still felt very funny and excited. I quickly broke away from my mother's arms and bravely walked to the sea and the beach. ......

I opened my eyes slightly, and I felt that my mouth seemed to have a faint smell of seawater, which I will never forget.

When I closed this photo album full of memories, I found that every time I closed it, I grew up a little.

3. How to write the story (composition) in the photo?

When a photo falls, the story of the photo is written. Oh, that's it, that's the old photo treasured in the depths of memory. It was that unforgettable trip that made me understand the meaning of courage and realize masculinity. When I was ten years old, my father and I went to Du Jiang, Yu Zui. On the morning when I got drunk in Dujiang, it was gray. After a while, it really rained. It was the rain that hindered our trip. It was not until noon that my father and I arrived at the scenic spot. After getting off the bus, I saw an iron cable bridge about 200 meters long. We have just learned the text "Flying over Luding Bridge". The cable bridge in front of us is a little better than the iron cable bridge in this paper. It is covered with wooden boards with a spacing of about five centimeters. Dad said we should cross the bridge. I panicked: Dad, I'm scared! What if I fall? It doesn't matter, my son is a man and the bravest. Dad said with a smile. Encouraged by my father, I stepped on the board with trembling hands. I don't know. As soon as I stepped on it, the board shook. I was scared and panicked. The board wet by the rain slipped from my feet and fell to the ground on all fours. Dad looked at me trembling and dared me: whoever doesn't walk by himself is a little mouse! I was competitive and fell into my father's trap, shouting: Throwing caution to the wind, who is afraid of who! So clap * * * hit the road again. One step, two steps, three steps … I move forward slowly like a snail. Dad, the bridge is moving! I'm scared! I stood there clutching the chains on both sides, afraid to move. Is the bridge going to break? Jingjing, run! Dad's voice came from behind. I listened, my heart racing, afraid to look back at my father. Just then, with a whoosh, a little boy about my age ran past me. I was surprised and admired that he walked so lightly and steadily. He can go, but I can't, okay? An inexplicable force rises from my heart, and I want to be fearless and go forward like him! So I rushed to chase him. Strange to say, at this time, the bridge stopped shaking and the boards at the foot stopped slipping. Walking on the ground in peacetime makes no difference. On the other side, after a while, father arrived. Far away, he gave me a thumbs-up and took a photo with me, saying that he would commemorate the birth of a brave little boy. After taking the photo, he proudly said that he shook the chain behind him, put me in danger and ran away. This was a great move. What he didn't know was that it was not his tactics that worked, but a brave little boy who gave me courage.

4. Composition: The story in the photo.

Composition: the story in the photo

You can take pictures.

Write

1 What competition are you taking part in?

2 what scenic spots to visit

Then talk about feelings.

FYI

Example 1

Every time I open the photo album, there will be an eye-catching photo: in the photo, a teenager dressed in a formal suit and a bow tie stands gracefully in the middle of a concert hall, holding his neck in one hand and playing the guitar in the other. His eyes are so focused, his expression is so cheerful, and his posture is so dignified. The audience was packed and seemed to be immersed in his melodious guitar sound.

The little boy in the photo is me. That was when I took part in the competition three years ago. As soon as I saw this photo, the tense game scene immediately came into view.

One day three years ago, my mother took me to watch a guitar competition. As I am the third from the bottom, I have a whim to go to the audience to watch other players play. But I was shocked after watching the performances of the first few players. Their piano sound is so melodious, and the difficulty of songs is more than one order of magnitude higher than mine. Compared with them, I'm just a rookie. I almost panicked and cried and said to my mother, "mom, mom, they are too powerful, I won't play!" " "Mom gently stroked my head and said," Look at them, how powerful they are. In fact, they are all honed from performance and practice again and again. "Remember, don't wait until you are excellent. Only when you start can you be excellent."

Suddenly, I understood what my mother said, yes! Only by working hard can we become excellent. How can you give up if you don't try? If not a coward, what is this? I wiped my tears, secretly established confidence and walked step by step to the waiting hall next to me.

As the announcer called my name, I took a few deep breaths, walked confidently and nervously to the center of the stage, adjusted my angle and started my performance. But because I was too nervous, my hand kept shaking, and the first note was played wrong. For an instant, that kind of tension and fear occupied my whole mind, my brain was blank and my legs kept shaking. My whole body is like a deflated balloon, with no strength to support it. I really don't know what to do with it! Suddenly, I saw my mother under the stage. She clenched her fist and stared at me closely, secretly cheering for me. I recall what my mother encouraged me just now and feel a powerful force. I readjusted my posture, took a deep breath, rubbed my cold hands and began to play again. Although I am still a little nervous, I am full of confidence at the moment. I firmly believe that no one's success is smooth sailing. What little mistake did I make? I am confident in playing, my hands are coordinated and orderly, and I have a tacit understanding. The piano is also active, sometimes as fast as Ma Benteng, sometimes as slow as running water, sometimes as light as a whisper, and sometimes as high as a towering mountain. At this time, thunderous applause rang out from the audience.

At this moment, my mother raised her mobile phone and turned it on, which kept my best moment forever.

This photo recorded my most beautiful and unforgettable moment, and it remained on the first page of the album. No matter how beautiful other photos are, they can't replace its position, because it profoundly tells me a truth: don't wait for Excellence to start, only when you start can you be excellent!

5. The composition "The Story in the Photo" is 400 words

Writing idea: You can write down where this photo was taken, with whom, under what circumstances, what it means, and how you feel when you see this photo now.

Text:

Time flies, we go from strangeness to familiarity, from meeting to parting. Every time I see that photo, I always see his bright smile in my mind; Every time I think of the time I spent with him, my heart is full of joy; Every time I think of the scene when I left him, my heart is full of infinite thoughts about him. Ah! Friend! I have been away from you for a long time. I wonder if you are all right now.

I remember when I was in primary school, we were deskmates, but we didn't know each other because we met for the first time. It was a small move of his that touched me deeply. From then on, we became inseparable friends.

What a coincidence! My mother and his mother were old classmates many years ago. After graduation, both of them went out to work hard and lost contact. But by chance, he and I entered the same primary school, and their old classmates met again.

After a long time, our relationship has become more and more harmonious, and the photos taken have become much more natural. Even a thick photo album can't be put down. The summer vacation after primary school graduation, we made an appointment to climb Huangshan together.

At the beginning, we were all full of energy and ran up like arrows. But when I ran halfway up the mountain, I was so tired and panting that I sat on a mossy stone. He ran up to me and said loudly, "Persistence is victory." Say that finish, then continue to run. Not to be outdone, I stood up again and quickly caught up with him.

In this way, we encouraged and helped each other all the way and finally reached the top of the mountain. I opened my arms and let the cool wind hit my face, and my heart was full of joy and excitement. Suddenly, his crisp voice came again: "Perseverance is the best gift I can give you before I leave." My eyes blurred, but at the same time, my mouth also showed a bright smile.

We all hugged each other tightly and shed affectionate tears. This scene was photographed by two mothers hiding aside. After the photo was developed, I put it on the most conspicuous table with a wooden photo frame made by him personally, so that I will always remember him and the most precious gift he gave me.

That was the last time I saw him. But I firmly believe that I will cherish this photo all my life and protect our friendship.

Time flies, I have left him for more than half a year, but his figure is always in the depths of my mind and can never be erased.

Ah! Friend! I wonder if you are all right now.

6. How do primary school students portray the story in the film?

In my hazy mind, grandma will always have silver hair, and she will smile with two bends, which is very charming. Father said grandma was beautiful when she was young, and I believe my aunt was also very beautiful. It is said that she is a copy of grandma. I don't have much perceptual knowledge about my grandmother, only an old photo is left to capture her loving figure.

According to parents, grandma is from Beijing. After she married her grandfather, she has been with him and has never left Beijing. Unexpectedly, grandpa died prematurely, leaving grandma alone.

In order to take care of my grandmother, my father went to Beijing several times and asked her to come and live with me. My grandmother refused to say anything. She can't let go of her home, a place full of feelings and tears.

It was not until I was born that my grandmother reluctantly left home and came to her parents to help her mother take care of the crying baby. According to my father, at that time, whenever I was free, my grandmother would stare at the north in a daze. Father knew that my grandmother was homesick, the old house that haunted her.

7. The story composition in the photo is 500 words.

The story in the photo

A photo, recording a story; A photo tells an experience; A photo evokes a memory; A photo, full of emotion. It is such a small and meaningful photo, an ordinary and extraordinary photo, which is worth collecting.

My favorite photo was taken on the first day of 200 1 year 1 month in the living room on the third floor of my new home. The photo clearly shows me sitting on the sofa with my cousin, grandparents and grandparents. I still have a big apple on the plate on the table in front of me. Every time I dig out this photo from the album, I still remember the story behind it.

It was the first day of the first month when I was two years old. My grandparents and my cousins, uncles and aunts came to my home. During the chat, my father asked me to take photos with my grandparents and cousins. Knowing where I was sitting, I hurried to find a reason for my father to accompany me to the fourth floor first.

Up to the fourth floor, my father asked me what I was going to do. I said to myself, "Why don't I sit in the middle?" "Because my cousin is the oldest of you three children, and you and my cousin are the grandchildren of grandparents, of course you should be next to them." Dad replied. "But grandma is so old. If others see her, will she laugh at me? " "You are wrong to think so," my father went on to educate me earnestly. "How can others laugh at you? Although grandma is old, she has gone through decades of hardships for the happiness of our family today. As the younger generation, we should respect and love her. No grandma, no dad, no dad, no you! " I suddenly realized that I had just made a mistake. If others see me sitting next to my grandmother in the photo, they will not make fun of me, but will think that I am a good boy who respects my elders and is full of love!

I happily returned to the living room on the third floor, walked briskly to the position where I took pictures, and handed a big apple to my grandmother with full respect. Grandma smiled and handed me back the apple. She said kindly, "Grandma is old and her teeth are useless. My dear grandson is grateful. You still eat! " Then my father shouted, "Look at me!" I took the apple my grandmother left me and stared at the camera. There was only a click, and this wonderful moment remained in the camera forever. After drying the photos, I took them into plastic and collected them in an album.

There is a photo of such a story; A photo makes my thoughts fly back to ten years ago; A photo, give me a love education. It is such an ordinary and extraordinary photo that taught me to respect and care for my elders. Only in this way can we make our life better, our family happier and our society more harmonious.

8. How to write a story composition in a photo in 500 words?

Opening the old photo album at home, I saw the yellow photos.

That's a photo taken by my mother and uncle when they were children. The mother in the photo is about seven or eight years old, wearing a small cloth jacket with a square collar, a pair of trousers, holding the trunk and smiling brightly. It seems that she is going to climb the tree. And my uncle, carrying a big bamboo pole more than three meters long, doesn't know what to do. I don't know until I ask my mother that they will know enough shells. In those days, cicada slough was a good Chinese herbal medicine. Every summer vacation, the children of every family will get up early and go to the Woods in the village to find cicada shells with small baskets and long bamboo poles. My brothers and sisters climbed the tree to find the cicada's shell, while my brothers and sisters helped to pass the bamboo pole and pick up the cicada's shell, which was very tacit. Children often start early in the morning with dry food and don't go home until dark. At this time, their small basket is full of cicada shells, while the small basket with cover is full of cicadas that have not yet returned their shells.

After returning home, they washed and dried cicada shells every few days and sent them to the pharmacy in the town, so that the tuition fee for one year would be settled. When the harvest is good, the extra money can also buy some school supplies! Cicada, which is not fully hatched in a small basket, is another rare food for people. Every night when cicadas are hatched, children can't wait to wash the tender cicadas, clamoring for adults to put them in the pot and fry them, and then sprinkle some salt to eat delicious. There are even greedy children like cats. On the way to the pharmacy to sell cicadas, they secretly hide a few cicadas, fry them in the oil pan when adults are not paying attention to cooking, and then put them in their mouths to eat them with relish. Do you know what delicious food was for children at that time?

This yellowed black-and-white photo seems to have brought me into my mother's childhood, and let me share that wonderful and happy time with my mother!

9. How to write the story composition in the photo of the second grade of primary school?

Mom arranged photos on the computer, and I leaned in to see: I smiled smoothly in the rolling waves ... Looking at the happy us in the photos, my heart returned to the beautiful seaside in Rizhao, Shandong. ...

This is the first close contact with the sea. As soon as I got to the seaside, I was shocked by its vastness: is this the sea? How boundless it is! I am dumbfounded when I am old. I just want to throw myself into the arms of the rough sea. ...

No. 1 I first saw the sea chasing waves.

It was National Day. We set off early in the morning and arrived in Rizhao in the afternoon. There is a faint smell in the sunshine air, which must be the smell of the sea. It takes one or two meters to walk from the hotel to the seaside. After putting down our luggage, we can't wait to go to the seaside. Ah! Sea! I'll do it! Jumping into the sea, the waves immediately gave me a warm hug, and my mother's obstruction could not stop my eager steps. Although it is autumn, the sun is still so bright and the sea is so warm, and many people are enjoying the caress of the waves. Shun Shun and I set up a pink swimming ring (bought on the beach, only this color), running and jumping and shouting to chase the waves. ...

The weather was surprisingly good in those days, and we soaked in the sea every afternoon. If you stand on the beach facing the sea at this time, you will see layers of waves coming at you and the sea breeze gently brushing your face. You want to see the end of the sea as much as possible, but all you can see is water and sky, except blue. We ran after the waves, and were pushed down on the beach by the waves for a while, and then washed into the sea. The body rises and falls with the waves, as if returning to the cradle of childhood. No wonder people call the ocean the cradle. I see. The sun is about to set, the tide has risen to the levee on the shore, and the wide beach has been flooded. ...

No. Digging crabs on the beach and fishing on the island.

10. How to write a composition with the story in the photo as the main topic?

How long have you been opening that photo album about old photos? Half a year, a year, or even longer, dust off the shallow dust on the cover and open it, which is a color suppressed in memory. On the old photos, there are traces of years drifting. From those yellowed album pages, the laughter seven years ago, the warm golden sunshine ten years ago, and the fleeting time, the old flavor floated out. Look at this old photo. Is that little girl with thin hair, black eyes and a white veil really me? In the photo, I am in a stadium that has not been rebuilt. Although I was naughty and active in my knee-length skirt, I grabbed the rusty parallel bars in the gym with chubby fingers and made a nonstandard "pull-up", as if my legs were kicking in the air. Looking at this photo, the small fragments of childhood are easily shaken off. I remember my father told me that when I was a child, my parents often took me to the stadium because it was near my home. There are a lot of fitness equipment in the stadium, but I am a tomboy who "learns to shoot in a skirt". As soon as I got to the stadium, I climbed up and down around the sports equipment that was taller than me. At that time, parents would always watch quietly, grab a few shots from time to time, and "click" with their cameras for a close-up. Count, one, two, three ... There are many photos in the album about the jokes planted on the court when I was a child. Think about it, I was only five or six years old then! Fingertips touch the page, thoughts shuttle for a period of time, familiar smiles stir up bits and pieces of memories, and instantly gather into an ocean. Dad in the old photo is sitting in a chair reading a book leisurely; Mom in the old photo, sitting on the golden lawn of the park in the winter sun; In the old photos, I wore pink clothes and played carefree by the sea ... Every old photo is a witness, witnessing the rise of the sun and the setting of the moon, and the unchanging memory is warm. Rule number two: Look! This is my photo, wearing a sun hat and rolling my trouser legs, smiling very sweetly. It was a day in Hainan Island, and we came to the seaside. As soon as I saw the sea, I jumped into the sea without grabbing my trouser legs, splashing white waves behind me. The sea is like my close friend, kissing my feet. I also played in the sea, bent down, put my hand into the sea, and suddenly lifted it up, and pearl-like water droplets appeared. A gust of wind blew, and the sea lifted the waves, looking like a white jade belt from a distance. The waves come in like strings of white flowers, like throwing strings of sparkling pearls into the sea, and like putting a silver necklace on the sea. The sea reached my knees. Just avoided a wave, and another wave came. I splashed it with my hand and backed away. Just then, my father shouted, "Come, take a picture." I leaned against a nearby rock and tried to pretend to be very happy. I only heard a "click" and took a photo. The waves passed and I was relieved. I watched the sea recede. Who knows, a small stone stirred me and I fell down. I burst out laughing. It is really doomed! Every time I see this photo, I will think of what happened that day, and I will laugh like that time.