In daily study, work or life, we often come into contact with compositions, which can be divided into primary school compositions, middle school compositions and college compositions (papers). Have no clue when writing a composition? The following is my mother's cans-excellent composition, compiled for you, I hope it will help you.

All mothers in the world are the same, and all mothers in the world are different; The same is their love, the difference is their mind.

When I was a child, I always hated my mother picking up cans.

Colorful bottles quickly stopped the mother who was galloping on her bicycle. Before I came to my senses, all the patterns were blurred with a bang, and the canned food was trampled into a compressed persimmon at my mother's feet. Mother bent down to pick it up and threw it into the front box of the bicycle with a spring breeze.

My mother has done this routine so skillfully that I have to wonder how often she practices it every day. The more I think like this, the more annoyed I am. I didn't expect to have a "glittering" mother after others, but I didn't want people to point at my back and quietly ridicule me for having a "junk-picking" mother!

Gradually, I stopped going shopping with my mother, stopped walking with my mother, and lived in a comfortable nest built by my mother. I live freely, and the sound of cans disappears out of my eardrum forever.

Unexpectedly, I will meet again.

When I was eighteen, I was studying in another city and suddenly got measles. The temperature as high as 42 degrees makes my ECG out of control, I vomit blood and my eyes are almost blind. Lying in a hospital bed, death is only one step away from me. I muttered, "Mom, mom, please send me to Beijing for treatment." The longing for life makes me want to hold her hand and not let go. By the time my mother, who had been on the train for a few days, arrived at the hospital and stumbled into the field of vision, I was out of danger. My mother grabbed my hand and held it in her arms: "Son, I will always be with you. I will send you to the best hospital for treatment! "

When I was discharged from the hospital, with the consent of the school, my mother took me home to recuperate because I couldn't blow the cold wind. Along the way, I was wrapped in a baby by my mother and helped all the way. At midnight, I got off the train in Yueyang.

In the dim light, after several people dispersed, my mother helped me and said, "I can't go back tonight." Let's find a hotel to stay! " "Asking back and forth in the long and short alleys, the harsh eyes of the innkeeper made me fidget. My mother said, "I'll ask this one again." If it's still so expensive, go back to the first one. Only so cheap. " I nodded, and then at this time, I saw a familiar scene. In the middle of the night, with a bang, my mother bent down to pick up the can of "rotten persimmon" and put it in her pocket. ...

I almost rushed to my mother, grabbed her pocket, took out the "rotten persimmon" and threw it on the ground in resentment: "What time is it now, you still pick this thing!"

Mom stood there for a long time without making any noise, and then dragged me into the last hotel, without asking the price, and went straight in. ...

A used can is sent to the scrap collection station for 5 cents. My mother can pick up 20 cans a day on average, which is 30 yuan a month, which is almost my mother's living expenses for a month.

My mother runs a tofu workshop alone, gets up in grinding bean curd at two o'clock in the morning and earns a month's income in 400 yuan. That money can't be spent casually, 400 yuan, which was originally an ordinary expense of one of my students.

After studying for four years, my mother didn't buy a new dress, and she couldn't bear to eat more meat luxuriously. She just picked up cans scattered in every corner of the street and lived humbly.

Knowing all this, I have graduated from college. ...