www.Film-Raritaeten.de
Thema drucken
03.12.2019 02:32
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When I came to the scene of the accident, I saw that the car's faucet was worn out and the basket was ... crooked. Dad took us both back. Mom knew this and asked eagerly: "How about, is there anything about this? I just poked. Hey, mom still cares about me, dad doesn't care about me at all! In the evening, my dad called me to the living room and said, "The so-called disaster will not be dead. There must be a blessing. Do n��t be too sad. I have repaired the new car for you, so be careful. I nodded, only then did I react, but I didn't scold my heart but it burned my heart like a flame, full of fullness. Perhaps this is happiness. Maybe happiness is just like dad, like matcha, sweet in bitterness Parliament Cigarettes, and sweet in astringency. [Chapter 2] In this world, there are too many flavors that we need to taste and aftertaste. And in this, there is a taste that is worth our lifetime and the heart to experience. When I was young, I lived in my grandmother's house. My grandmother's face was deeply engraved in my mind: tall and fat body, plump face, a pair of tiny eyes and a pair of hands that can make many delicious dishes-one of them was due to a stroke No longer obedient, like a baby in her arms, bending inside. Grandma has only one hand to work, but because of repeated use, her hand becomes very smart: laundry, cooking, knitting . In the years I stayed at my grandma's house, what impressed me the most was that my grandmother ��s kitchen was often used to help her when cooking. One day, my grandmother suddenly said to me, "I'll teach you how to cook!" So I started to finish my first dish, pickled cucumbers. I first picked a green cucumber from the basket. "Yes, go in your direction, gently and slowly--" I fixed the empty cucumber in one hand, holding a paring knife in one hand, and carefully scraping it. Melon peel. After the peel is finished, I wash the cucumber repeatedly. But because the hands and feet are too awkward, I did n��t pay much attention when I ��m shaving the cucumber. The cleaned cucumber looks like a man full of cripples. My grandmother joked: "Oh, my hands are really good. I can plan to make ugly monsters by shaving cucumbers!" I was not discouraged, I picked up the chopping board and prepared to cut cucumbers. "Come, I'll teach you!" I saw my grandmother pickily take the cucumber. "Look, so, cut it horizontally, then cut it diagonally ..." My eyes suddenly blurred when I looked at her sharp knife Carton Of Cigarettes. : When did I live with my grandmother? Two or three years old! And now that I am almost ten years old, looking at my grandmother's gray hair and the hump in the back, my heart seems to be stabbed by something. Yeah, I'm growing up, and she's getting old. I used to think that my grandmother had a lush tree Cigarettes For Sale, and I was a green leaf on the tree. She had endless nutrition for me to suck, but I never thought that this tree would grow old. I finished this dish with tears. How much my grandmother's affection is buried in this small pickled cucumber. When I pick up a slice of crispy cucumber and put it in my mouth, a sudden heat flows from my heart. Is it sad, helpless, or painful? No, I think, this kind of seemingly fragrant and sour taste should be the taste of love |
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