A. composition about the story of young pioneers helping a little girl with a sprained foot.

Xiaohong is an excellent young pioneer, both filial and sensible.

One day, after dinner, Xiaohong and Grandma Ban were watching TV. Then mother took out a plate of apples. Red apples make people greedy. Grandma smiled and said, "Children should eat more fruits." Just pick the biggest apple from the plate and give it to Xiaohong. Xiaohong took the apple, but didn't eat it. She handed the apple back to her grandmother: "Grandma, this apple is for you." Grandma took the apple and said happily, "Thank you, Xiaohong." Such a sensible child, grandma, I will reward Xiaohong with a big apple anyway! "So he chose another big apple and gave it to Xiaohong. Later, their family happily sat in front of the TV and ate apples happily.

B a fairy tale composition of 600 words about "whose strength is stronger in the stomach or feet"

I read a fable today, which contains an article about the stomach and feet. I found it particularly interesting. One day, the stomach and feet were arguing about who was stronger, and the feet kept bragging about their strength because he said he could move the whole stomach around, but the stomach said, "Hey, friend, if I don't provide you with nutrition, then you can't move anything."

I think they are both ridiculous. Everyone is not perfect and has strengths and weaknesses. We should use our strengths to help others and learn from others' strengths to make up for our shortcomings. I think I should ask for advice with an open mind, so that my grades will improve. By the end of the term, I will definitely gain more and work hard. This is the inspiration of this story.

Note: To be honest, I don't think the above one is appropriate. You can expand the story in the first paragraph and add more plots. Really can't. You should write a review after imitating this composition. . . Deal with the past first Dude, I can only help you here! Come on, write quickly! I wish you progress in your study! Hope to adopt!

C. The fairy tale composition tells 600 words about the brain, hands, feet and mouth.

Hand and brain used to be good friends and created many useful inventions for mankind.

One day, the hand said to the brain, "Look at how many inventions I have created for human rights!" " "

Hearing this, the brain immediately retorted, "I didn't see you so powerful." Everything must be thought through my brain! "

In this way, they argued all the time, and in the end, no one talked to anyone.

Where's the hand? I do it every day, and there are some problems.

And the brain thinks about it every day and won't do it again.

Eyes got angry and said, "Look at you now. Now you should cooperate and make up for your previous mistakes. It's never too late to mend. If you continue to be stiff, you will regret it! "

The brain and hands finally realized that working for human beings is the most powerful.

D. eye and foot story composition of about D.500 words.

Ai Rushan's composition is 500 words.

Father's love is a ray of sunshine, which makes your heart warm like spring even in cold winter; Father's love is a clear spring, which makes your feelings pure even if they are covered with the dust of years. Father's love is like a heavy book, which is intriguing; Father's love is like a sweet wine with endless aftertaste.

There are countless metaphors about fatherly love, but we always say that fatherly love is like a mountain.

The mountain is silent. Because it is a mountain, father's love is unknown. It may not be a strong hand when you fall, it may not be a kind care when you cry, and it is even more impossible to share success and failure with you, but it will definitely turn into a sharpened pencil in a pencil box, a sumptuous dinner when you go home, and an encouraging word you inadvertently give. It may not be noticeable, but it must always be with you.

This mountain is very simple. Because it is a mountain, my father loves simplicity and kindness. Its appearance is not gorgeous, but it has extremely profound connotation. It is not as kind, tolerant and respectful as a mother's love, but as selfless as a mother's love, asking for nothing in return. Father's love is not everywhere, it is an invisible feeling, and only those who feel it with heart can appreciate the deep affection for their son.

This mountain is very high. Because it is a mountain, my father loves to be strong and brave. Some people say that without fatherly love, there is no fortitude; Without father's love, there is no broadness. Indeed, fatherly love is not weak at all, and it is not mysterious at all. From childhood, my father brought us a tall and strong image, which continued to the invisible fatherly love and accompanied us. Until one day, my father is no longer strong, but his deep fatherly love has told us: be brave and be strong.

Yes, fatherly love is a mountain! It will give me strength when I am in trouble, direction when I am confused, confidence when I am lost, congratulations and vigilance when I succeed. Father's love is the mountain that supports my life!

Father loves mountains. It has no embellishment or words, but it always stands at the source of your life and accompanies you through every bumpy and lonely journey. ...

You are happy when you have thoughts; The pleasure of feeling is happy; It is also lucky to have a father's love.

E. composition about an experience of washing parents' feet.

The annual March 8 Women's Day is coming, and there is an endless stream of students going to the gift shop to buy gifts for their mothers. In my eyes, March 8 Women's Day is very common, because I have never bought a gift for my mother, and I have never expressed my feelings to my mother. One day in the winter vacation, I want to do a good thing for my mother. At that time, I thought, whether to help my mother sweep the floor or cook her a delicious meal ... However, the teacher's words surprised me-wash her feet.

When I got home, my heart was beating very hard. I tried to open my mouth several times, but I swallowed it at the mouth. I'm afraid my mother will laugh at me after I say it. When I hesitated, I remembered that my mother worked day and night for * * *, and I was brought up with a handful of shit and urine. Now, it is so difficult to wash my mother's feet once. Am I still human? Thinking of this, I got up the courage to say to my mother, "Mom, I'm going to wash your feet today." Mother said inexplicably, "What happened today? How did you think of washing my feet? " I proudly replied, "Today is Women's Day, and I want to give you a special gift." Mom said, "What gift? What happened to you today? Stop it, I have a lot of things to do, and the rabbit is still hungry. " My heart is shaking. Yes, my father's laid-off made our life worse. As a last resort, my mother raised rabbits. In this way, my family will have a certain income and my studies will be guaranteed. Since mother has more important things than washing feet, what can I say? I have to do my homework. Time goes by, it's past ten o'clock, and my mother hasn't returned to the house yet. I walked into the yard, picked up my busy mother and urged her to wash her feet. Mother said, "Good boy, I'm still busy. I don't need you. I will wash it myself later. " How can this work? I forced my mother to go back to the house. She sat helplessly in the chair, and I gently took off my shoes and socks for my mother. God, what kind of feet are these? They are dry, cracked and swollen ... It's spring now, but mom's feet are still not good. I want to cry. Looking up at my mother, there is an anxiety hidden in my smile. I know, my mother still misses those rabbits who are not full. I dare not waste my mother's time any more, and I finished the homework left by the teacher in a hurry. While I was pouring water for my feet, my mother put on her shoes and socks and went to take care of her little rabbit. Looking at my mother's back, my heart is sour and bitter. ...

Mom is such a person who only pays and asks for nothing in return. Although my gift didn't make my mother happy, I respect my mother more. I will redouble my efforts, and I will reduce my mother's burden with practical actions.

Mom, I love you, and your sweat will not flow in vain. When your son grows up, you must live a comfortable and happy old age.

F. cartoon character story composition (400 words)

Tom the cat couldn't catch Jerry the mouse, so he was kicked out of the house by his master and became a stray cat. It walks in the street every day Not only does it have nothing to eat, but it is often bullied by other cats.

One day, Tom the cat was looking for food in the trash can. Suddenly, he took out a poster that said, "Come and take part in the bicycle double grand prix. If you like, please register at the gate of the park before 3 o'clock this afternoon (the winner is 3000 yuan). "

Tom was very excited when he saw the bonus, but he found that it was a two-person competition, with only three hours left to register. Tom sat on the ground and began to think about who could take part in the game with him. At this time, he thought of Jerry, the mouse he wanted to catch all day, but then he thought, we have always been a pair of enemies. If we go to him, will he agree? But there seems to be no other better candidate. Ask first anyway.

Thinking about it, Tom came to Jerry's hole. Say to Jerry, "Hey, Jerry! I want to take part in the double grand prix. I hope you can join me! If you win the game, I will share the bonus with you! "

Jerry thought for a moment and said, "All right! But I have one request. "

"What requirements?" Tom asked.

"We must sign a non-aggression treaty." Jerry said.

"Of course!" Tom answered quickly.

After signing the contract, they signed up together at the gate of the park and rented a tandem bike to practice. They practice hard every day and go to bed late every day.

The day of the game has finally arrived. They came to the stadium by bike, jumped on the boat and waited for the game to start. After all the opponents arrived, Tom shook hands with Jerry. At this time, the referee gave an order and the game began. They rode bicycles and rushed to the finish line quickly. It worked. They won the first place.

From then on, Tom and Jerry not only became good friends, but also understood the importance of friendship: if we stick together, there will be no insurmountable difficulties.

G. Story writing between me and my dog

The story between 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.

H. Composition (childhood fun) 500 words

Childhood fun

What is childhood? It is a cicada in the tree, a frog in the water, a short song of a shepherd's flute, and a companion's mystery. ...................... In short, childhood is carefree and happy. Whenever I vividly recall the interesting stories of my childhood, my face always glows with ruddy luster. After all, the past is like the murmur of running water in my heart. Once the generation is so eloquent. .....

When I was 5 years old, my mother took me to my grandmother's house. Grandma lives in the country, so many people ride horses from this village to that village. I am envious and want to try riding, but Matthew is too tall for me to ride. I was just about to get on the bus when I saw my grandmother feeding the pigs. I thought pigs were small and easy to eat. As soon as I saw grandma feeding pigs, I went to the pigsty. The pig ran into grandma's garden. The cucumbers and persimmons in it were trampled by pigs. I was also scratched by the branches of the fruit tree. This time, grandma caught the pig. After she drove the pig into the nest, she said I was too naughty to even ride the pig.

Another time was when I was seven years old. I just learned to ride a bike. I was not very good at riding at that time. My mother and I rode bicycles to the square to play, where there was a lot of space. I got there by bike, riding faster and faster, and suddenly I saw an adult riding a bike in front of me. I couldn't stop because I rode too fast. I was about to hit it when my mother called me. I thought to myself, "I'll get hurt if I hit it, and I'm not good at riding." What if I tumble? " I don't know what to do. Then I suddenly remembered: "It must be okay to jump out of the car." I jumped out of the car. I wasn't hurt, but my car was hit by that man.

Whenever I recall these things, I always giggle, so sweet and so brilliant. It seems that all fascinating memories are vividly reproduced. I continue to think about the poetic years and dreamy seasons of youth ... I think childhood is a tree without rings, which will never grow old and will never disappear. ......

First, ask for a well-written article that can be used as a model essay.

On a rather tired afternoon, the warm sunshine poured into Shrek College. Shrek's seven eccentrics are busy. Everyone else went out, leaving only Tang San and Xiao Wu in the college. Tang San is reading a book about hidden weapons. Small arms bored lying in bed, looking at Tang San. "Brother." Small dance suddenly a word, "can you play with me now? Let's play cards! The loser will be punished! " "all right." Tang San stood up and played poker with Xiao Wu. ...

Xiao Wu lost the first game. She said, "Brother, how are you going to punish me?" Tang San looked at the girl in front of him. Will this person be my future girlfriend? We ... Tang San felt a little gentle in his heart. He said slowly, "Can I tickle you?" Xiaowu said helplessly, "OK, but be gentle!" "Tang three fingers attached to xiao wu's fine waist, gently stroked. Xiaowu breathed softly, and with the increase of Tang San's strength, it turned into a charming smile: "Hee hee hee ... brother ... hahaha ... gently ... hehehehehehe ... so itchy ... hee hee hee hee ..." Tang San has been conquered by Xiaowu. Two people's faces are red. The little dance made it out, and she pressed on Tang San to tease Tang San. Tang San, who is quick of eye and load, scratched hard in Xiao Wu's armpit. Xiaowu smiled and threw herself into the arms of Tang San. ...

Artistic conception ... beauty ...

Tang San can't stand the loli state of Xiaowu any longer. He tied Xiaowu with bluegrass, then took off Xiaowu's shoes and scratched Xiaowu's feet lightly. "Hee hee hee, hee hee, hee hee, hee hee, hee hee, hee hee, hee hee, hee hee, hee hee, hee hee, hee hee, hee hee, hee hee, hee hee, hee hee, hee hee, hee hee, hee hee, hee hee hee, hee hee, hee hee. Tang San stopped scratching, and Xiao Wu said simply, "Brother, you are good or bad ~ You have to scratch when you know that people are afraid of itching ~ Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha …" Tang San suddenly started scratching again, and Xiao Wu's silvery laughter rang again. "Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ... hee hee, hee hee, hee hee, hee hee, hee hee, hee hee, hee hee, hee hee, hee hee, hee hee, hee hee, hee hee, hee hee, hee hee, hee hee, ......................................................! Meowed, elder brother, you bullied me ... Meowed ... "Xiaowu actually cried. Tang San was taken aback and immediately let go of the little dance. Who knows that Xiao Wu jumped up while Tang San was unprepared and knocked Tang San down on the bed. Two people are entangled and talking and laughing ... Xiaowu is scratching quickly in Tang San's armpit, and Tang San laughs until tears come out, but he still doesn't forget to put his hand on Xiaowu's waist to "play the piano" ... Tang San jumps up and grabs Xiaowu's delicate feet and scratches desperately. The little dance was thunderous, and the audience burst into laughter: "Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ... Brother, stop ... hee hee hee, hee hee hee, hee hee hee, hee hee hee, hee hee, hee hee, hee hee, hee hee, hee hee, hee hee, hee hee, hee hee, hee hee, hee hee, hee hee, hee hee, hee hee, hee hee hee, hee hee, hee hee, hee hee hee, hee hee hee, hee hee hee, hee Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ... Tang San has never felt this way. He didn't even scratch Xiao Wu's feet, and his hands were hammered on the bed. Laughter: "Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ...... don't lick the little dance. ..............................................................................................................................

J. the story composition of an old photo

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 and 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 take a close-up with a "click" of the camera. 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. Jiang Jin