Flower in the bottom of my heart

The flower can be not beautiful, but it has sunshine; the flower can be not bright, but it has rain and dew; the flower can not be outstanding, but it has his flower mother, daddy, and many people who help him.

Some people say: Beauty is right around. Beauty is just living. Beauty, just a little detail of us.

This is a beautiful scenery I saw. In the setting sun, the old man took the hand of the old woman and the mark of the sunset was on them.

"Go slowly, there are stones in front, be careful." The old man is holding some tight.

"You too, don't think about others." The old lady took the old man.

"Oh." Both people laughed.

The setting sun seemed to be euphemistic, and the gentle sunset was still on them. This is the beauty, and the love that is so dead makes them look forward to it.

One day I forgot to bring the pen for the exam. The mother who was at the factory braved the typhoon, and the umbrella was blown away by the wind. It was like a helpless mushroom. I didn’t live up to it, and the tears still flowed out.

This is beauty, this is the beauty my mother gave me. Although there is a torn typhoon and heavy rain, he will always love me, although sometimes it will lick my head.

Even if the sun breaks the beauty of the night, I still sleep sweetly. Just like the helplessness of the helpless, the flowers in their hearts will be in the bottom of their hearts, between a quiet corner, between an inconspicuous discourse, and a casual movement.

The third day of Caitang School, Huli District, Xiamen, Fujian Province: Yi Huan