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英语美文阅读之介绍父亲节（通用12篇）
在现实生活或工作学习中，大家都写过美文吗？什么是美文？就像一千个人心中就有一千个哈姆雷特一样，每个人心目中都有自己衡量美文的标准。什么样的美文才是真正的好美文呢？下面是小编为大家收集的英语美文阅读之介绍父亲节，欢迎阅读，希望大家能够喜欢。
英语美文阅读之介绍父亲节 篇1
The United States is one of the few countries in the world that has an official day on which fathers are honored by their children. On the third Sunday in June， fathers all across the United States are given presents， treated to dinner or otherwise made to feel special.
The origin of Father's Day is not clear. Some say that it began with a church service in West Virginia in 1908. Others say the first Father's Day ceremony was held in Vancouver， Washington.
Regardless of when the first true Father's Day occurred， the strongest promoter of the holiday was Mrs. Bruce John Dodd of Spokane， Washington. She thought of the idea for Father's Day while listening to a Mother's Day sermon in 1909.
Sonora wanted a special day to honor her father， William Smart. Smart， who was a Civil War veteran， was widowed when his wife died while giving birth to their sixth child. Mr. Smart was left to raise the newborn and his other five children by himself on a rural farm in eastern Washington state.
After Sonora became an adult she realized the selflessness her father had shown in raising his children as a single parent. It was her father that made all the parental sacrifices and was， in the eyes of his daughter， a courageous， selfless， and loving man. In 1909， Mrs. Dodd approached her own minister and others in Spokane about having a church service dedicated to fathers on June 5， her father's birthday.
That date was too soon for her minister to prepare the service， so he spoke a few weeks later on June 19th. From then on， the state of Washington celebrated the third Sunday in June as Father's Day. Children made special desserts， or visited their fathers if they lived apart.
In early times， wearing flowers was a traditional way of celebrating Father's Day. Mrs. Dodd favored the red rose to honor a father still living， while a white flower honored a deceased dad. J.H. Berringer， who also held Father's Day celebrations in Washington State as early as 1912， chose a white lilac as the Father's Day Flower.
States and organizations began lobbying Congress to declare an annual Father's Day. In 1916， President Woodrow Wilson approved of this idea， but it was not until 1924 when President Calvin Coolidge made it a national event to "establish more intimate relations between fathers and their children and to impress upon fathers the full measure of their obligations."
Since then， fathers had been honored and recognized by their families throughout the country on the third Sunday in June. In 1966 President Lyndon Johnson signed a presidential proclamation declaring the 3rd Sunday of June as Father's Day and put the official stamp on a celebration that was going on for almost half a century.
When children can't visit their fathers or take them out to dinner， they send a greeting card. Traditionally， fathers prefer greeting cards that are not too sentimental. Most greeting cards are whimsical so fathers laugh when they open them. Some give heartfelt thanks for being there whenever the child needed Dad.
英语美文阅读之介绍父亲节 篇2
Mother planted a tree in the yard， more than ten years of time， he has grown from a weak sapling into a bowl mouth thick tree. I always thought that tree was beautiful. It was as tall as a man and had beautiful patterns on its bark. The tree crown is huge， layers of branches spread out like a big green umbrella. I like his low-hanging branches best. Every time I go home， I must walk by the trees. I like his branches gently brushing my hair， whether it is spring when the young leaves are on the branches， summer when the flowers are just blooming， autumn when the yellow leaves are like butterflies， or winter when the dead trees are in the wind.
My mother， a thrifty housewife， planted the tree for a clear purpose， not for beauty but for money. The locust rice on the locust tree can be sold for money. It was no longer a time to earn a living by buying a few jin of sophora rice. However， my mother never got tired of it and took care of her sophora tree carefully， especially when the tree was small. He'll get some leftover fertilizer from the field. Planing the root of the soil， to be far away from the base of the tree， the fertilizer evenly spread， and then pour enough water， let the fertilizer melt， watching the water all seep into the soil， and then the planing soil fill back. This work is usually done in the evening， so as to minimize the sun's damage to the roots. In late spring and early summer， sophora trees are sprayed with pesticides. If the tree has insects， it will make sophora rice yield. Every time the little bud popped out of the branch， the mother would put the sprayer on her back and spray the low ones on the ground and the high ones on the wall. I can't imagine how my mother， in her sixties， managed to climb up the wall and carry heavy sprayers to keep her feet from falling and the branches above. As long as we can do， mother never need us.
Watching those strings of stamens grow up slowly， mother's face was full of smile. I read it several times a day. Mother kept an eye on the weather as the flowers bloomed here and there. On a fine day， when the flowers are half open， mother will pick sophora rice. The lower part is within reach， the higher part is pushing on the stool， and the higher part is tied with a bamboo hook. The plucked sophora rice should be kept in a cool and ventilated place. Put something on the floor so that it won't get dirty. Then turn these things， mother is the happiest thing. After the sophora rice was dried， the mother carefully collected it in a plastic bag and kept it open. Mother will look at it from time to time. When there was a shout on the street， the mother would go out， and after a lot of bargaining， she would go out with her sophora rice and come back with more or less money.
Mother is always happy no matter how much money she has. After I finished buying the sophora rice， my mother would say to me mysteriously: Do you guess how much the sophora rice sold this year? I don't know how much it costs. Generally always say a smaller number， mother will be happy to tell me how much money sold， a look of satisfaction. From a few years ago more than ten dollars， to the later dozens of dollars， to this year's more than one hundred dollars， no matter how much， the mother is satisfied， happy.
Every time I went home， I lay on the kang with my mother， and she would recite her sophora rice. How good is her sophora rice? How much is it sold? Is it expensive or cheap? Every time I tell it， it's like the first time. The story goes from summer to winter. I pretended to hear it for the first time， answering her delight with mock surprise.
I hope the locust trees at home will be evergreen and my mother will always tell me about her locust rice......
Locust tree involved my young memory， now the warmth. Every time I go out， I pay special attention to locust trees. Last spring when I went to Zhengding for a meeting， I had the opportunity to see several ancient locust trees， which are said to be from the Ming Dynasty. Originally， there was a shuttle bus from the hotel to the venue， but I thought it was not too far away and the weather was not too cold. We could also see the scenery of the ancient city. After lunch， in the warm sunshine， little Crane and I walked all the way to the venue.
About the geographical location of ZhengDing is related， the grass and trees in our home are still asleep， there is no sign of awakening， Zhengding street has a bit of green germinating. The acacia on the street that finally caught our eye. Tall crown straight up the sky， that a vigorous written in the blue sky and white clouds， written in the warm spring breeze， written in the bright sunshine...... Originally impetuous heart， suddenly quiet down. The people on the street to the car seems not to exist， we immersed in that a desolate in the ancient.
Because of age， the middle of the trunk was empty， and some had been filled with cement to prevent the summer rains from fetting the trunk. Some bark is gone， with nails on the artificial bark. Some of the trunks were about to crack， so they were tied with iron stripes. Some branches are about to break， with iron stick support... The tree is old. We don't want him to get old， and we don't want him to leave. In this ever-changing era， we are eager to ponder some issues in an ancient， our tomorrow， our past......
When I met the locust trees， the chill had not yet lifted from the air， and except for an hour or two at noon it was cold for most of the time. The branches of the locust already have a little bit of green， do not look carefully， simply imperceptible. Spring is coming in the end， the old tree does not sleep safely because of his old age， as a tree， he is chasing the first ray of warm wind in spring， blooming new buds， like a small butterfly， fluttering wings to fly... I do not see his luxuriant foliage， and I think he must be covered with shade in summer.
When I went to Handan this summer， I had the honor to see an ancient locust in Congtai. It's said to be from the Ming Dynasty and still lush. People are excellent and the land is spiritual. By the name of King Wu of Zhao， this pagoda tree is also spiritual. Long and short red ribbons are tied with branches， thick blessings， affectionate songs like tireless floating in the green leaves...
They say life is a dream， but every day is a real past. Those memories， like blooming sophora flowers， light up the time， sweet years......
英语美文阅读之介绍父亲节 篇3
Looking through the texts written in the past， there is very little about the father and most about the mother. On this special day， also leave some words for my father.
In most people's eyes， father should be more strict than mother. My father was no exception. Memory of small and middle time self， very naughty， now forget what mistakes made， what wrong， provoked my father picked up the pine and cypress branches， to self， can see the body is a grain of small red water like， mother heard me crying came over， saw this scene， distressed to give me medicine， and then said father: "What will you do if you break your son?" At that time， I just wanted to dry my tears so that I wouldn't have to shed them again， not because of the pain， but more because of how I had made my father so angry. That was before elementary school.
Is the person after childhood naughty， grow up will be more sensible? Since then， I have become so sensible that I think about my parents' feelings most of the time and rarely make them angry.
When reading， I don't understand your father is not staring at your test scores， but my father is not， in his opinion， writing progress， learning should progress. There is a test， took a very high score， is in high spirits to show off in his father， did not think he was not polite to sentence， score is satisfied， but the word is so poor， what book to read at school. At that time， I could not understand myself， and then slowly figured it out， when free to copy the text， the word slowly write better and better， but did not expect that， because of copying so many articles， the composition also slowly stand out.
Most of us， parents look at the final exam results to understand how we learn in school， my father also added a， the annual Spring Festival is also a time to test themselves， from primary school began to write Spring Festival couplets， father will be compared every year， so also need high， of course， with a little talent and hard work， this aspect did not live up to his father's expectations.
So much so that at this moment， the first class of self， will strongly require the students to practice， personality is to see the self of the students to write the word really can not see， self will be patient to call it a good practice. In my correcting homework， often write a word， write the word well! This may be the influence of his father， the character is true.
A few days ago， I talked to my father on the phone， and he told me， "Don't drink so much wine. Don't be like your grandfather， who said to drink a little at the beginning and then became addicted to it. Every time you drink， you have to get drunk.
My father doesn't drink or smoke. When I was very young， he told me that when I grew up， I could only drink， but I couldn't get drunk and I couldn't smoke. At this moment of self， often when drinking， will think of his father's words， no matter how to drink can not get drunk， this is the bottom line.
So much for that! Save some for later! I wish all the fathers a happy holiday and all the parents a happy life!
英语美文阅读之介绍父亲节 篇4
The Toaster
Dads don’t need to be tall and broad-shouldered and handsome and clever. Love makes them so.
Pam Brown
When selecting gifts for others， a toaster probably tops the list of risky items. It’s fine for a cousin you barely remember or an inept bachelor who can’t master much more than bread and peanut butter; it’s definitely taboo for your wife on her birthday or your wedding anniversary. But the toaster my father bought for me was one of the most touching and memorable gifts I had ever received.
During my third year of university， I had gone home for the weekend to my parents’ farm where I had grown up. Most of the weekend had been spent catching up with my sisters， chatting with my mom and recounting stories about my classes， my roommates， my boyfriend of the moment. I had even brought home some photos of the cheap town house I had rented with two other students. My mom and sisters roared with laughter as they came upon a picture of me desperately fanning a smoke alarm with one hand and grasping a piece of black toast with the other (a temperamental secondhand toaster was an ongoing joke at our student house). My father， as usual， was on the fringe of this noisy female world.
On the last day of my weekend at home， I stood over the kitchen sink， my hands immersed in steaming， soapy water， and gazed out the window towards the shed where my father was working. He and his hired man were leaning over a manure spreader， examining axles and chains， tapping here and there with wrenches. As I watched the two of them， intent and purposeful， I recalled the times that I had joined my father in that shed， handing him tools， holding rusty fragments of farm equipment as requested， but mostly watching， as I was now， not really part of the picture. I was an outsider， a foreigner in this world of grease and dirt and steel. I wondered then what they talked about while they worked. The weather? The hockey game? Nothing at all? That secret male world of barnyard conversation seemed beyond my grasp. In truth， I imagined nothing more than essential grunts， orders， requests， curses， sighs of successes. It would be nothing like the endless chat sessions that my mother， my sisters and I enjoyed， sprawled across one of the farmhouse’s large beds.
On this particular day， during the last couple of hours before I would return to the city for school， I felt an overwhelming sense of loss as I watched my father in that world of his， which seemed so remote to me. I wondered if he preferred this seemingly voluntary isolation， or if he too longed to be part of a world that seemed equally remote and impossible for him to reach.
Having finished the lunch dishes， I went upstairs to do some final reading， pack my things and get ready for the hour-long drive back to university. I was to pick up my mother from work at two o’clock so that she could drive me back. I had heard my dad come in from the barn; I heard the shower and the electric razor and the noisy drawers of his dresser opening and closing. When he emerged from his room， I noticed his clean shirt and pants and wondered where he was heading for the afternoon. Thirty minutes later I descended the stairs， bags and books weighing me down as I headed for the car. Dad stood in the doorway to say good-bye as I hurriedly crammed my baggage into the back and got into the driver’s seat.
When I arrived at my mother’s workplace， she was surprised to see me alone in the car and asked where Dad was. She told me that he had been planning to come for the drive and finally see the house and the university where I had spent the past two and a half years. Immediately I realized why he had shaved and abandoned his usual pair of green coveralls. He had intended to come， but I made no signs of inviting him. I had no idea that he would have wanted to go with us. Shocked and ashamed， I hurried to a telephone booth to call home and tell Dad that we would be back in ten minutes to pick him up.
This time， Dad slid into the driver’s seat and I crawled into the back beside my pile of books and my suitcase. I couldn’t think of a word to say. The only thing on my mind was what I hadn’t said before. On our way back through my hometown， Dad pulled over on the main street and disappeared into the local hardware store. A few moments later， he got back into the car and handed me a small box containing a brand-new toaster.
“Sounds like your girls can use one of these，” was all he said.
I thanked him， though the words， I’m sure， were barely audible. With the toaster on my lap， clutched between my trembling hands， I stared at the back of my father’s head and his strong， straight shoulders. I thought of hugging him， even touching his arm and saying thanks again， but we had never been accustomed to physical gestures of that sort. So instead， I sat and stared at the shiny picture on the box. At the time， that toaster seemed to say enough for both of us.
Even now， on a calm quiet morning as I stare out of my own kitchen window and wait for the breakfast toast to pop out of my new silver toaster， I can still vividly recall that day， fifteen years ago. That day， when I had sat in the back seat of my parent’s car with another toaster on my lap， staring at my father’s head， tears running down my cheeks. Sometimes as parents and as children， we can’t always find a way to reach each other or find the right words to say. Sometimes there are no words to say， but a toaster still can warm my heart.
英语美文阅读之介绍父亲节 篇5
Nearly half of dads under 45 say they have a child out of wedlock
Nearly half of American dads under 45 this Father's Day say they have at least one child who was born out of wedlock.
And the share of fathers living apart from children is more than double what it was just a few decades ago， according to a new study.
But among married fathers， children are said to be getting more attention from both parents at home than ever before.
A Pew Research Center report highlights the changing roles of parents as US marriage rates and traditional family households fall to historic lows.
The study found that college-educated men who tend to marry and get better jobs are more involved with their children than lesser-skilled men struggling to get by.
Pew's survey and analysis of US government data found that more than one in four fathers - 27 per cent - with children 18 or younger live away from at least one of their children. That number is more than double the share of fathers who lived apart from their children in 1960.
But married fathers who live with their children are actually devoting more time helping their wives with caregiving at home - a task once seen almost exclusively as a woman's duty. Such fathers on average now spend about 6.5 hours a week on child care， which include playing， helping children with homework or taking them to activities. That's up from 2.6 hours in the 1960s.
Among fathers with at least a bachelor's degree， only 13 percent had children outside marriage， compared to 51 percent of those with high school diplomas and 65 percent of those who didn't finish high school.
Age， too， was a factor. Three quarters of fathers who were 20 to 24 had children out of wedlock， compared to 36 percent for fathers aged 35 to 44.
The findings come as the latest US census data show that marriages have fallen to a record low， pushing the share of US households with married couples below 50 percent for the first time.
Sociologists say younger people are increasingly choosing to live together but delay marriage as they struggle to find work and resist making long-term commitments.
英语美文阅读之介绍父亲节 篇6
The birds in the dawn are not at all lazy, scrambling to wake people up from their dreams, I am no exception to be destroyed to go out, to join the birds surrounded by the country lane, shady, fields and lawns, breathing the unique hometown of Huangjing flowering fragrance, the full branches of purple flowers do, on the roadside, in the ridge, in the mountains a large swathe everywhere, Can not help but think of my father when I was a child hanging in the mouth of a word "Huangjing stick out of the good" is it true? Many of those past memories are coming to my eyes... .
"Poor world parents heart", the father of children how to do too much, but also with the root thin Huangjing strip smoke you a few times, remind you to obedient, to accept education, to read carefully, to love labor...... . This is the greatest plea a father can make to his children. Therefore, when I was a child, once I did something wrong, I would always think that the thin, not very long Huangjing stick will fall on you, and I would also tell myself to be careful next time, don't do wrong, and it is better not to be caught. Children that have so good self-control, often still make mistakes, sometimes also put their own wrong to others, we several brothers also discussed the stick into a thick, because the thin hit on the body easy to leave traces, go out to call friends to see the dishonorable, but the number of times will be found. After a long time, they grew up and gradually read, understand their parents' intentions, and no longer afraid of the Huangjing stick, and then the Huangjing stick has no use... . One day, the mother took out a number of roots in the kitchen to burn, after that has become the past, never mentioned, today again recall is so many years for the first time, because today is father's Day, the Internet all over the earth are grateful father, and we several brothers to Thanksgiving, burnt in the soul may be the root of the Huangjing stick.
Huangjing stick is not every mistake will fall on you, but also see this matter is "serious", serious that will seriously give you a few, not serious in the hand to frighten you. Father's education we can experience in Huangjing stick, especially sometimes holding your hand, gently knock a few times, let you deeply moved, originally this matter should not be special, he and so understanding you, you will not make the same mistake next time, so let us grow up in his care.
A few days ago, it was reported that in order to let their children study for the college entrance examination and have a good rest, parents organized a convoy of cars in front of their communities to stop the road, and cars were not allowed to pass during the college entrance examination. There are the district organized to kill the frog, the district frog called the history of harm, afraid of noisy children to rest, ruthlessly poison all. I saw this news also laughed to colleagues, no wonder a few days ago back to the community on business did not hear the frog cry, annual this season call Huan, is not used to sleep! Of course, this news whether true or false, but today's education we should reflect, from early childhood education to university education, many a good family led to a road of no return, "money! Money! Money "! Education and money can not be separated, people get along with the taste, children and parents of the bond I am afraid only results and money, also talk about what fatherly love, adult that can realize the "fatherly love mountain" ah!
The sky shed the glow of the mountain, the river against the bright dazzling, the water in the lake because of the drought this year fell more than ten meters, the river bed of sand and soil red and thick green hillside formed a sharp contrast, this may be the gap between the past and today. Unconsciously came to my father's grave, I bowed deeply and bowed again, to thank my father with Huangjing stick silently tap on our brothers, grew up to become a useful talent in the country, in their respective posts to make contributions to society!
This mountain of father's love, such as the water of love, always remember in the heart.
英语美文阅读之介绍父亲节 篇7
There is a special feeling for locust trees, whether it is Chinese locust, Robinia locust or Longjava Locust, there is a deep attachment and aftertaste in the heart.
There was an acacia tree in the yard of my old home, which grew beside the adobe wall. In my memory, he seemed to grow very slowly. He had been the size of an adult's arm since I could remember, and he was still the size when I left home for school. But it seemed to be taller, and to have more branches, but not to have a full crown. One branch always tried to avoid the other branch, each from a different Angle toward the blue sky.
Normally, he was a cold shoulder in the eyes of children. There was always sunlight pouring down through the gaps in the branches, and there were "hangers" (green fleshworms hanging down from the trees by a thin thread) to frighten the children. His branches were full of sharp thorns, and children could not climb the tree to play. It does not bear delicious fruit like the mulberry, peach, apricot or date tree. How many times a year in our eyes he is lonely, as if the cicadas do not love to sing to him, but he can hear the song of the trees next to him.
We think of him when he blooms in late spring. Now come to think of it, the white flower string of a tree, scattered with a strong fragrance, attracted countless bees make ah make ah, not also very beautiful? The children will not care whether he is beautiful or not, all the children are greedy. What the children want is the little bit of honey in his flower bud.
It was dangerous to climb a tree. His sharp thorns would Pierce the flesh and scrape the clothes. If one's flesh is torn, one should not say anything, but if one's clothes are torn, one should be scolded. That dress, the elder sister is still waiting to wear, the second sister is still waiting to wear, the mother is still waiting to use it to make shoes... We tied a hook with a bamboo pole and stood on the top of the wall. When the branches and leaves were all over the ground, I would find a quiet place and sit on the cool ground, sucking the meager honey from the little flowers. This was also a great joy for children at that time. But the children, after all, did not have a long boom, and soon they abandoned the flowers and branches of a field to play with other.
Grandma was still around. We were teenagers. In our eyes, grandma is gentle, skilled, never scold us, and from time to time will come up with unexpected delicious. At that time grandma will pick up the flowers we left behind, pick clean, with clean water. Sometimes a little corn flour, a little salt, steam it. Drizzle with a little sesame oil when you come out of the pot. Well, a dish of delicious steamed locust flowers is done. Grandma shouted, the children ran from around, regardless of washing their hands, like a pig eating, small head are squeezed into the plate. In my memory, Grandma always smiled at us and never joined our group. The most luxurious time was the scrambled eggs with locust flowers cooked for us by grandma. Of course, we could not rob them. We had to wait for our parents to come back from the fields and put them on the table. And Grandma, smiling all the time, looked at her children and grandchildren with a look of satisfaction...
Time passes, the old house is gone, the adobe wall is gone, the acacia is gone, the grandma is gone... He is only in my memory, can not find a trace...
The old house was torn down, the new house was built, the younger brothers got married, the younger sisters got married, our children grew up, our parents grew old, and their eyes were filled with the gentle, loving look I once knew, looking at our children as grandma looked at us. My parents didn't want to live with my brothers. They lived by themselves because it was convenient, and because there were so many girls, they needed a bigger space.
Mother planted a tree in the yard, more than ten years of time, he has grown from a weak sapling into a bowl mouth thick tree. I always thought that tree was beautiful. It was as tall as a man and had beautiful patterns on its bark. The tree crown is huge, layers of branches spread out like a big green umbrella. I like his low-hanging branches best. Every time I go home, I must walk by the trees. I like his branches gently brushing my hair, whether it is spring when the young leaves are on the branches, summer when the flowers are just blooming, autumn when the yellow leaves are like butterflies, or winter when the dead trees are in the wind.
My mother, a thrifty housewife, planted the tree for a clear purpose, not for beauty but for money. The locust rice on the locust tree can be sold for money. It was no longer a time to earn a living by buying a few jin of sophora rice. However, my mother never got tired of it and took care of her sophora tree carefully, especially when the tree was small. He'll get some leftover fertilizer from the field. Planing the root of the soil, to be far away from the base of the tree, the fertilizer evenly spread, and then pour enough water, let the fertilizer melt, watching the water all seep into the soil, and then the planing soil fill back. This work is usually done in the evening, so as to minimize the sun's damage to the roots. In late spring and early summer, sophora trees are sprayed with pesticides. If the tree has insects, it will make sophora rice yield. Every time the little bud popped out of the branch, the mother would put the sprayer on her back and spray the low ones on the ground and the high ones on the wall. I can't imagine how my mother, in her sixties, managed to climb up the wall and carry heavy sprayers to keep her feet from falling and the branches above. As long as we can do, mother never need us.
Watching those strings of stamens grow up slowly, mother's face was full of smile. I read it several times a day. Mother kept an eye on the weather as the flowers bloomed here and there. On a fine day, when the flowers are half open, mother will pick sophora rice. The lower part is within reach, the higher part is pushing on the stool, and the higher part is tied with a bamboo hook. The plucked sophora rice should be kept in a cool and ventilated place. Put something on the floor so that it won't get dirty. Then turn these things, mother is the happiest thing. After the sophora rice was dried, the mother carefully collected it in a plastic bag and kept it open. Mother will look at it from time to time. When there was a shout on the street, the mother would go out, and after a lot of bargaining, she would go out with her sophora rice and come back with more or less money.
Mother is always happy no matter how much money she has. After I finished buying the sophora rice, my mother would say to me mysteriously: Do you guess how much the sophora rice sold this year? I don't know how much it costs. Generally always say a smaller number, mother will be happy to tell me how much money sold, a look of satisfaction. From a few years ago more than ten dollars, to the later dozens of dollars, to this year's more than one hundred dollars, no matter how much, the mother is satisfied, happy.
Every time I went home, I lay on the kang with my mother, and she would recite her sophora rice. How good is her sophora rice? How much is it sold? Is it expensive or cheap? Every time I tell it, it's like the first time. The story goes from summer to winter. I pretended to hear it for the first time, answering her delight with mock surprise.
I hope the locust trees at home will be evergreen and my mother will always tell me about her locust rice......
Locust tree involved my young memory, now the warmth. Every time I go out, I pay special attention to locust trees. Last spring when I went to Zhengding for a meeting, I had the opportunity to see several ancient locust trees, which are said to be from the Ming Dynasty. Originally, there was a shuttle bus from the hotel to the venue, but I thought it was not too far away and the weather was not too cold. We could also see the scenery of the ancient city. After lunch, in the warm sunshine, little Crane and I walked all the way to the venue.
About the geographical location of ZhengDing is related, the grass and trees in our home are still asleep, there is no sign of awakening, Zhengding street has a bit of green germinating. The acacia on the street that finally caught our eye. Tall crown straight up the sky, that a vigorous written in the blue sky and white clouds, written in the warm spring breeze, written in the bright sunshine...... Originally impetuous heart, suddenly quiet down. The people on the street to the car seems not to exist, we immersed in that a desolate in the ancient.
Because of age, the middle of the trunk was empty, and some had been filled with cement to prevent the summer rains from fetting the trunk. Some bark is gone, with nails on the artificial bark. Some of the trunks were about to crack, so they were tied with iron stripes. Some branches are about to break, with iron stick support... The tree is old. We don't want him to get old, and we don't want him to leave. In this ever-changing era, we are eager to ponder some issues in an ancient, our tomorrow, our past......
When I met the locust trees, the chill had not yet lifted from the air, and except for an hour or two at noon it was cold for most of the time. The branches of the locust already have a little bit of green, do not look carefully, simply imperceptible. Spring is coming in the end, the old tree does not sleep safely because of his old age, as a tree, he is chasing the first ray of warm wind in spring, blooming new buds, like a small butterfly, fluttering wings to fly... I do not see his luxuriant foliage, and I think he must be covered with shade in summer.
When I went to Handan this summer, I had the honor to see an ancient locust in Congtai. It's said to be from the Ming Dynasty and still lush. People are excellent and the land is spiritual. By the name of King Wu of Zhao, this pagoda tree is also spiritual. Long and short red ribbons are tied with branches, thick blessings, affectionate songs like tireless floating in the green leaves...
They say life is a dream, but every day is a real past. Those memories, like blooming sophora flowers, light up the time, sweet years......
英语美文阅读之介绍父亲节 篇8
In fact, this is the holiday I most want to ignore, but the circle of friends overwhelming father's Day blessing, always let me sad, my father has traveled for three years, alone buried in the bone springs, still leave us to send the world.
But there is always less joy and warmth in the world without a father.
The original time can not let a person will forget the grief, miss with memories but like wanton spread of weeds, crazy occupy my heart.
I knew my parting from you was coming, but I never thought it would come so soon. You are like a boat sailing out of the sea of my life from now on, I just understand that no matter how much wind and waves I have to steer alone, no matter how lonely can only bear alone, because the world's most pet me you have gone farther than the distance.
You are not good at words but as calm as a mountain, have you in will have the heart to rely on.
You are sick and weak but optimistic and cheerful. Your warm smile always makes me feel that life is beautiful and simple.
Your culture is not high but skillful, still remember you get our praise proud Jiao look.
But life can never go back, if you don't pay attention, the most important person's most luxurious time will no longer exist, and I have been so heartless missed so much time with you.
So I am afraid to meet any father like you, the old man who can repair bikes, short old man, old man who walks slowly, old man busy in the fields, old man who tells his children that it is OK...
How many times fantasy you are still in, I affectionately hold your arm, slowly from the east to the west, if this scene can come back, call me to do anything!
April 16 that day, I stubbornly give you burned a lot of paper money, the room filled with smoke I quietly wipe the uncontrollable tears, the chopsticks you used for nearly three years I lost according to my mother's instructions, but how also can not throw away the missing for you. That day I said to you: "Dad, I will give you more money to burn, later you buy your own food." I don't know if you heard that.
Today, the father of the father's day, I just miss his father's child, and you are still in my hometown thousands of miles away by the house, do not know whether the tomb grass green, do not know whether the cemetery flowers open, do not know whether you are also missing us, do not know that we have no fate to do father and daughter again in the next life?
英语美文阅读之介绍父亲节 篇9
Civil affairs authorities are familiar with flash marriages and divorces, with the biggest culprits being the smaller 30 percent, Jiangxi City Daily reported. More and more people born in the 1980s are getting married in the morning and divorcing in the afternoon.
Around a lot of leftover men and women have entered the marriage hall, really happy for them, congratulations on them to become a married family, marriage is an art, need each other attentively to manage, into the marriage means to share for each other, share the joys and sorrows, each other, so as to lay a harmonious and beautiful foundation for marriage.
With the development of The Times, all kinds of temptations fill our minds and challenge our moral bottom line. The "80" people who have a successful career now have a wife. On the one hand, they have the old and the young, and they also want to develop their own career, so they have more mental pressure. Many post-80s families are the only child and lack tolerance in marriage. Encounter trifles lack of tolerance and understanding in life, too self-expression in life, a large part of the lack of necessary communication in marriage do not want to solve the problem, resulting in marriage cracks.
Material matter has a great catalytic effect in the marriage, compared with pure spiritual love, marriage becomes more substantial. The concept is also open generation, do not care what red book for green book. You walk away, someone takes your place. Who cares about forever? Marriage certificate is no longer the shackles of two people's life fate, together, is not divided, marriage certificate is not the eyes of the old generation that can hand in hand life magic weapon. Perhaps only in the eyes of old people, divorce is a shameful thing to talk about, even if there is a conflict, still try to protect the family. The "80" generation, on the other hand, likes a challenging life rather than a routine life. Love is to break through all obstacles to love, even if it is to pay more hard, do not care about forever, only care about once owned. The marriage certificate is a legal couple procedure for them. I've lost sight of the real meaning behind marriage.
Some people say that the "80" generation is the generation that follows the trend and fashion. Their marriage is more like a novel with a beginning and no end, with only possible interludes. The transformation of their image in marriage makes them have a transition process from role adaptation. You may have to change a lot of your habits in the process. They imagine marriage to be too romantic and beautiful, but the truth is that marriage is rooted in the most ordinary way of life. Not trivial and insipid. Which tongue does not touch the teeth, contradictions need both sides as far as possible to consider mediation for the other side, the major incident is minor. Since the original oath of love, it is necessary to fulfill their commitment. Choose the family to endure the dull marriage life.
Talk about the mistress. That used to make people hate a class of people, but saw the seaweed in "Dwelling Narrowness" let me have a little pity for small three, is it the mistake of small three? It takes two to tango. Every coin has two sides. Their secret love is also involuntarily. Those successful men behind which not have a few confidants, can be colleagues, network friends, social contact. At all, they prefer a successful man with a successful career and family. They whet their appetite better than those of the old men. Talented and elegant, the mistress prefers to be an underground lover, sharing someone else's husband, being a woman of ice and fire. The mistress who loves to the depths of the mistress will encourage the beloved to divorce, eager to correct. Old people unable to protect their marriage, lost wheat city, leaving only a scar. Marriage is actually more profound knowledge, a woman can be a silly woman, do not behave too refined at any time, do a bird according to the woman let a man also have more sense of achievement.
Men say that women are like clothes, do not fit to change, such a statement is to insult women, in the era of economic equality, women are no longer as simple as the past to rely on men to raise. You can't insult women like that. Financially independent women can also support themselves completely. What is that man. Reminds me of a slogan, men are like shoes on the feet, only the feet know the comfort. When a man who has changed his mind can't bring his marriage back to life with all his efforts, giving up is the best way to go. There is no need to spend your youth for someone who doesn't love you. Just like feet don't put up with uncomfortable shoes.
For those about to get married. Bless you and single goodbye, affection is a matter of both sides, choose each other to take responsibility, mutual understanding, constantly run in, like a gear to run in for a long time to operate normally, marriage is not a game, more not an excuse to bind yourself, to manage their marriage not to give small three opportunities, cherish the lover around, cherish every day's life...
英语美文阅读之介绍父亲节 篇10
"Hullo! Brother, father will be in Longyan second hospital tomorrow morning to do minimally invasive surgery urethral stone, have the time to come up?" On the morning of March 12, three elder brothers hung up and said.
"No problem. Come up in the morning." After putting down the phone and finishing the work at hand, I asked the leaders of the Standing Committee of the National People's Congress for a public leave and went to the inpatient department of the Second Longyan Hospital the next day.
At 11:30 on March 13, my father was wheeled into the operating room. At 11:57, the third brother signed his name on the column of the patient's family for the consent form of anesthesia and operation. After about an hour and a half of anxious waiting, the operating room door opened and the doctor, holding a small bag of yellowish-brown gravel that had just been removed from my father's urethra, told us that the operation had been a success and that we had not lost much blood and were now in the resuscitation room for observation. At 14:45, my father was finally pushed out of the operating room and into the postoperative ward for nursing and medical treatment. I felt sorry for my father lying in a hospital bed, breathing with his mouth open. A careful count, only to find his father's upper jaw only eight teeth barely support, a dozen teeth in the lower jaw already all "under the post". The retraction of the lower jaw and the forward extension of the upper jaw form a "heaven covering the ground", which I call "eight teeth road".
"When suffering is not hard from clear, when tired not too much from the removal." Two days after the operation, two people in turn to take care of the father not only to hang bottles of anti-inflammatory, but also to hang three cartons of isotonic flushing liquid, both, have to keep urethra smooth. How lucky I am! Two good things happened to me when my father was in bed. Instead of buying a toilet, I spread an absorbent nursing pad on the bed and solved the problem. After that, I am not afraid to help him wipe his butt and quickly remove the nursing pad.
"Since father 2005 county to help children, 'cohabitation' nearly two years of time, a flick of a finger, also have nearly ten years of not 'cohabitation' with him, simply take advantage of his father's treatment in hospital, good accompany him." On the third day, seeing that my father was recovering well and my other brothers were busy with work, I volunteered to take care of my father alone.
"Blood sugar is normal, blood pressure is normal, body temperature is normal, heart rate is normal." Nurses like Xie Yuanyan, who came to round the ward every day, always said so. Although my father is 80 years old, in addition to suffering from ankylosing spondylitis, a little hunchback, other indicators of the body is still very good, the postoperative recovery is also very fast, in the third day, to see him can get out of bed for a little activity, I see in the eyes, happy in the heart.
"Dad, it's dinner time. What do you want? Do you want to eat rice, noodles, noodles, porridge, steamed buns, flat food, or something else?" During his stay in the hospital, besides taking care of the drip, he also had to take care of my father's daily life. Help him cover the quilt, help him run errands, to the canteen to buy food, to the supermarket to buy fruit. When eating with him, he found that because of his father's mouth, too hard food can not be swallowed and it is easy to drop grain. I often pick up the grains that fall on his body so as not to dirty the clothes and sheets. I was both amused at my father's inability to chew and guilty at the same time, for last year's Lantern Festival, I was angry at my parents for refusing to join us for dinner. Now finally know the reason, originally their teeth are almost lost, chewing function degradation, especially in eating hard lean meat, duck meat and other food, have to take scissors to cut it into pieces, before eating. It dawned on me that they had refused to dine with us because they were afraid they would not get along.
"Doing simple things well is not simple." Although in the second hospital, I only assisted my father to cook some dishes, manicure nails, cut nose hair, wash clothes, buy fruit, do physical examination and other "trivial" things, but to continue for several days, stay in the hospital to take care of him, it also requires some patience. Fortunately, the spacious and bright ward of the new two doctors, thoughtful and meticulous service, and I had eaten a "reassuring pill", want to enjoy the taste of "cohabitation" with my father, so I can calm down, calm down, do not haver and haver.
"Wow! It hurts too much! It hurts!" In the early morning of March 18, because the plastic catheter ed into the urethra had not been removed, my father was moaning and groaning in pain when urinating, rolling on the bed, sweating all over the body, and calling the nurse to give a pain-relieving injection did not work. There was nothing I could do but wipe his body and offer him solace.
"Good urine flow, normal urine volume, normal color." On the morning of March 18, Liu Chunsheng, the attending doctor, finally removed the catheter ed into his father's urethra. After pulling it out, my father felt very happy. In the absence of my roommate, I turned off the TV, turned on my cell phone, pressed the record button, and talked with my father about his entrepreneurial history after his father's death at age 10 and how to raise his seven children. As the saying goes: a man's tears do not bounce, because not to sad place." In about an hour of the "true confession", said sad, father also emotional shed a few tears, I finally saw the strong and capable father tears appearance.
"How about when I get out of here, I'll pay for you to have an iron and bronze tooth?" I made a face and smiled to my father.
"No, dentures are painful and uncomfortable, and dental implants are expensive and impractical. Let nature take its course." "My father replied from the hospital bed.
"Yes! Whatever happens, I listen to you! However, after discharge, must listen to the doctor, within two months, to rest more, can not ride, can not eat supplements, can not... " I stopped smiling and looked serious.
During my "living" days with my father, I had ulcers in the corners of my mouth, acne on my face and swollen gums, but I had no regrets. On the afternoon of March 19, I returned home with my father recovering gradually and his "true confession".
In addition to the ability to repair appliances, furniture, riding motorcycles, there are more skills he does not know, unfamiliar things. We grow up and rebel; They grow old and reach the point where they can't do anything better than us except love.
If there was a copy of my father's instruction manual, his best shelf life would be no more than 30 years.
When we were thirty, father was over fifty before he knew it. Life experience is twice our age; But in fact, perhaps from the beginning of forty years, he has been left behind by The Times, early stopped growing, with the decline of social role, physical decline. Large and small patients, because half a lifetime of hard work, old to be retaliated, contaminated. Relying on the inertia of the young rush forward, the bitter extension to the age of hearing and knowing the destiny of heaven.
Mothers are different. Whether we are five, ten, or fifty, mother's role has never changed as long as she is alive, and she has always been a synonym for warmth. If, talk to the mother, say "love you", is the ordinary ordinary; Then it is difficult to say love to father.
More embarrassing than father, is father's Day. According to statistics, Father's Day eve, Taobao released a group of very interesting data. Statistics show that while Father's Day is also a holiday
英语美文阅读之介绍父亲节 篇11
Once a year, the father's Day, will make a phone call to his father, or ask him to drink tea, or eat a meal. Sometimes I wanted to bring some small gifts that my father liked, but I was too lazy to start, so I stuffed three hundred and five hundred yuan to my old father: "Dad, whether it is to drink tea or make mahjong, if I lose, it is mine, if I win, it is yours!" My old father must have been happy.
Such a Father's Day no longer exists.
Father is this year Qingming "go". Go in a hurry. From the time of admission to death, only 15 days. When his electrocardiogram into a straight line, the sky thunderstorm, I sent my father into the morgue in the heavy rain, heaven and earth with me cry.
Every morning after that, the first person I think about, the first thing I think about, is my father. Tear off the calendar in May, I think of Father's Day, but every night insomnia, unable to bear the burden, lay down for 10 days. During the fever, is to repeat with his father scenes of the past. Father's day before the day, up in the middle of the night, around the house, picked a pile of father like things: Tieguanyin tea, ginseng pills, deep sea fish oil a lot, subconscious is to give his father a holiday. Gift do Qi, cried a cry, things have changed, Father's Day gift, together with "Happy Father's Day!" Who else can you give it to now? I always refused to accept, this year's father's Day has no father!
And, after all the father's Day, there will be no father.
Have a father, do not feel what special father's Day, always sloppy, to save time and effort. No father, just remember, father's day more great, more important, should spend a day for him, spend a month. Never for his father a grand father's day, the regret of life!
There are one hundred kinds of people in the world, there are one hundred kinds of father love. My father loved me like nothing else in the world. In his eyes, his daughter is the best and most important. The daughter is only a scholar, living on the pen. But he was holy to his father. There is a father who takes care of his daughter's money, but I have a father who takes care of her time and energy.
Every time I go home to see my father, I always want to talk more after dinner. Father always said: "late, go home, you have to go to work tomorrow, dad knows you are busy, come back to eat a meal."
Mother quickly nagging: "Where there is such a father, drive her daughter away."
Dad always glared at his mother and said: "You don't know your daughter is busy, to read to write a book, time is precious!"
Mother does not know father's affection, I deeply appreciate.
What makes me uncomfortable is that every time I call my father to say hello, you don't open your mouth, he will rob the words: "Yu Ming, don't try too hard, time is too long, dad always worry about your body, don't be too tired, well, you don't talk on the phone, dad knows you have dad in your heart." Snap, the phone hangs up.
Seven years ago, my mother-in-law passed away, leaving my father-in-law alone. My father-in-law has been waited on by her mother-in-law all his life, and can't even plug in a rice cooker. My husband and I run around every day to cook for my father-in-law. Retired father at home know, automatically offered to live with him father-in-law. My father used to be an official in a factory, but he was not ashamed to bow down every day to cook, wash clothes and even wash feet for my father-in-law. In 1998, my father-in-law's Alzheimer's attack, lost several times. I had to send my father-in-law back to the countryside. At this time, my father is emphysema, asthma, high blood pressure, but do not trust father-in-law, accompany him to the countryside, lived for more than a month.
All the people who knew my father-in-law said that his life was good and that he had such a good in-laws. I knew in my heart that my father was afraid of my tired and shared my worries. This heart this situation, there is no return.
At the end of 1998, my father had a stroke and was hospitalized. My father struggled to tell me what was going on. I cried to scold him: "What nonsense, dad, your life is long, a lot of happiness did not share, daughter has not filial piety you, you are willing to go, not willing to daughter cry!"
英语美文阅读之介绍父亲节 篇12
Dad's stable, and I'm on a business trip. Thousands of miles away, sleepless nights, praying for God to bless my father.
My father was surprisingly good. His hands and feet were so good that there was not a trace of them. Dad had a CT scan taken when he was discharged from the hospital. The doctor said there was no sign of blood clot on the scan.
Within half a year, my father had another stroke and was suffering from cardiopulmonary disease. The day after my father was admitted to the hospital, I signed the critical illness notice. Take the death notice, out of his mind began to scold himself: for many years to work, for a small family, for the little daughter, but very little care of the old father. Consciousness is late, had to desperately compensate: every day to run the hospital, crowded every minute with his father. Every time to the ward, looking at the father ed tracheoesophagourinary tube needle, heart like knife enucleation. I lie on the old father's ear called: dad, Yu Ming is coming, I am Yu Ming......
Dad tried very hard to open his eyes to me, he has been unable to speak, we looked at, thousands of words, said in the eyes.
Two days before Dad left, he suddenly got better, and I took my daughter to see him. My father pointed to my handbag. I quickly handed him the pen and paper. He drew on the paper for most of the day, but at last he could not write. Brother has done public security, experience, guess for a long time, think is "do not waste" four words.
I asked my father if. The father nodded.
"Dad doesn't want us to pay so much for him," Brother said. I know, but besides that, Dad's afraid I'm wasting too much time running to the hospital every day. Actually, I should feel guilty. Knowing that my old father has been dying, but also let him worry so much for me. What have I done for my father?
Thought to give the old father three hundred yuan, thought to buy this buy that for the old father, is filial piety, in fact, I owe the most, is to kiss hot accompany father say a word, happy to make father happy.
It's too late to regret. Last year, I realized that I wanted my father to come to England to visit my little sister. Halfway through the formalities, my father was in poor health and could not travel. Change your plans and visit Hong Kong! My mother repeatedly stated that my father was having a hard time walking and would never swim to Hong Kong. Big brother has an idea, Hong Kong can not travel, go to Macao one day, Macao is small, not many steps. My father fell ill and died before the tickets could be bought. How many regrets my father took away, how many I can not repay the heart debt.
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