Love

I, a colorless and odorless flower, under the care of my family, became beautiful and fragrant.

I, a young bird that can't fly, grows up under the fostering of family.

Recalling this warm affection, a piece of past events emerged in my mind.

I remember that day, there was a light rain in the ground, and it was dense when it rained. I stood alone at the door of the school, waiting for my mother to pick up. Slowly, the rain grew bigger and bigger, just as I was in a hurry, I saw a familiar figure - my mother came.

Looking up, my mother was wearing thin clothes and holding a flower umbrella that was dripping. "mom"! I cried as I ran towards my mother. She smiled and took my little hand. "Yeah! Mom, how is your hand so cool?" I blurted out. Then look up and see my mother put the whole umbrella on top of my head. The mother's body is already soaked. My nose is sour, I want to say thank you to my mother. But I couldn’t open my mouth, so I had to walk down with my mother. Quietly push my mother's umbrella to her head until our back disappears at the doorstep...

Maternal love is a bucket of paint, a bottle of perfume, giving me the most beautiful colors, the most elegant fragrance...

Fifth grade: there is a rebound