1. Essays about Dad’s Hands
Here are a few essays for your reference: 1. Dad’s Hands From the time I was born, there has been a pair of hands holding me as I learned to walk.
There are two hands that often hold me in a warm embrace and act like a baby, making me feel happy and warm; there are two hands that often lift me high to fly a plane; there are two hands that always hold my direction. , taught me to be meticulous in doing things; a pair of hands pulled me back to the right track after I was obsessed with computer games... That's dad's hand.
Dad’s hand has been with me for 12 years now, helping me grow from an innocent and childish child into a good young man with both good conduct and academic performance. Dad's hands are warm.
When I was young, I always had to "make a fuss" under the quilt when sleeping. At this time, my father would pick me up with his warm hands and pat me gently, Singing my favorite songs until I fall asleep. Dad's hands are very big.
I have wanted to be a pilot since I was a child and be able to soar in the blue sky with a plane. Whenever my father gets off work, I always yell for him to lift me up to fly the "plane". My father will use his strong hands to lift me high and make a "bombing" gesture around the house. .
At this time, my mother was worried and reminded my father to be careful from time to time. Dad’s hands are a source of encouragement for my progress.
Once, the teacher recommended me to participate in a children's calligraphy competition. Although I had practiced it at home N times, my hands still kept shaking as soon as I got on stage. You know, this was my first time in my life. Show your talents in front of so many people. At this time, I only heard a burst of applause coming from the audience. Oh, how loud and powerful a pair of applause sounded, how familiar and familiar it sounded! I turned around and searched in the vast sea of ??people.
Ah, it was my father standing in the audience. I suddenly felt confident and wrote a few powerful characters - Father's love is boundless! That time I won the first prize in the children's calligraphy competition. Behind every success I have, there is always a pair of hands that gives me courage and confidence, and that is my father’s loving hands.
2. Dad’s hands My dad has a pair of warm hands. In my impression, these hands are always warm and bring me a lot of joy. There were several obvious veins protruding on the back of each of Dad's hands.
The palm of the hand is yellow, the back of the hand is light wood color, the veins on the palm are very deep, and the ten nails are cut very short. Dad’s hands are still very big, a whole circle bigger than mine, and not much smaller than the usual exercise books for homework.
Dad’s hands don’t feel so delicate, nor are they too rough, but they make people feel warm and full of strength. Dad's one hand can lift me to the top of my head.
The biggest feature of dad’s hands is their warmth. On cold winter mornings, my father would always try his best to take me to school.
On the road, the wind was blowing so hard that it was about to penetrate into people’s bones. Although I put on many layers of clothes, I still felt very cold, especially my exposed hands and face, which felt like they were being cut by knives.
At this time, my father would ask me to go behind him to block the wind for me, holding a heavy schoolbag in one hand, holding my cold little hand in it with the other, wrapping it tightly, and pulling me away. , the wind can no longer blow me. Dad's hand is like a ray of soft sunshine, shining on my body.
I immediately felt that the discomfort in my body disappeared a lot, and my heart felt warm. Along the way, my father's hand kept holding my hand to keep my hand warm, but my own hand gradually became cold and red.
When I was frustrated or sad, my father would reach out and pat my shoulder and stroke my head, giving me the greatest encouragement and comfort. When I walk a long way, my father will squeeze my legs with his hands to make me feel comfortable and no longer tired.
When I win an honor, my dad will make a V-shape of victory with his hands and be happy with me. Dad’s hands are not as tender as mine, not as nimble as mother’s hands, not as hard-working as grandma’s hands, and not as able to endure hardship as grandpa’s hands.
However, my father’s hands can bring me truth and happiness, making me feel different, gentle and kind. I love my dad’s hands that convey warmth, and I love my dad who cares about me even more! 3. Dad’s hands Every father has a pair of hands, big hands like cattail leaf fans, small and nimble hands... My father’s hands are not only big, but these big hands also give me endless strength on the road of growing up. , inspires me.
These big hands are of great significance to my growth. Whenever my little hands and feet are cold, these big hands always help me keep warm; whenever I encounter difficulties, these big hands Big hands are always behind me encouraging me so that I can succeed every time. Once, in the mid-term exam, because I did not perform well, I did not do well in the exam, especially in mathematics, I made a mess.
When I got the test paper, I was shocked and blamed myself: My parents have worked hard to raise me, and you got such a score in the exam. How can you explain to them? Oh, you will just go back home. Waiting to eat "fried meat with bamboo poles"! My palms were all sweaty as I moved home step by step. Today's journey seemed particularly long, and the journey that originally took ten minutes actually took an hour.
When I arrived at the door of my house, I hesitated again because I faced my father and mother speechlessly. Just as I was thinking about it, the door opened and my father came out with an anxious look on his face. When he saw me, he said, "Why are you coming back now? I'm so anxious. Come in quickly."
As he said that, a pair of big hands pulled me into the door. After entering, my mother was not at home, and my favorite lobster was placed on the table.
My eyes suddenly became moist. Dad said, "Hurry up and eat, the food is cold!" I said hesitantly: "Dad, in this exam, I only got 70 points in math..."
I closed my eyes, Waiting to be beaten. Unexpectedly, my father said: "Eat quickly. After eating, let's analyze the reason for the wrong question together."
After saying that, those big hands served me soup again. I couldn't help but "Wow" The ground cried. After dinner, my father and I analyzed the reasons for the wrong questions, and comforted me and said: "Okay, don't be sad. You didn't do well in the exam this time. Try harder next time."
His He patted my shoulders with both hands and said, "I believe you can do it!" Suddenly, a warmth came to my heart. It was him, those big hands encouraging me when I encountered setbacks. I wasn't very responsive at first.
Once, my father said: "Let's play a game!" I smiled and said: "Okay!" Dad then said: "The back of your hand is facing up, and the back of my hand is facing down. Let's compare. , can I stop you?" At first, Dad's big hand could hit my little hand every time, but later, Dad's big hand couldn't hit me. 2. Cold Hands, Warm Heart Composition (use scene description details to describe writing emotions) Begging for speed
Cold Hands, Warm Heart
In our countryside, children During the Chinese New Year, we have the custom of walking through the streets carrying lanterns, which is the greatest fun and enjoyment of the Chinese New Year.
On the 25th of the twelfth lunar month of this year, I went to Dajun’s house on the east hillside, and Dajun took out his New Year lanterns to show me. The lantern is so beautiful. The lampshade is diamond-shaped and made of four pieces of glass. There are also some tiny flowers painted on it. The lantern was bought by Dajun's father from a distant county.
When I got home, I asked my father for a lantern. I said, don’t make it papery, but make it transparent. I know that my father does not have money to buy a high-end glass lantern, and I hope he can make one for me.
The father agreed.
On the morning of New Year’s Eve, I was woken up by a rustling sound. When I opened my eyes, I saw my father busy with something. After I got used to the dim light in the room, I saw clearly that my father was polishing a piece of ice far away from the kang. The ice was too cold. Every time he rubbed for a while, my father would stop, wipe his hands with the corner of his clothes, and put his hands in his cotton coat to warm them for a while.
I asked: "Dad, what are you doing?"
My father turned his head and said, "I didn't find any suitable scrap glass. I froze a piece of ice yesterday and was giving it to You're making ice lanterns. It's still early, so you can sleep a little longer." After saying that, my father turned around and continued to grind.
I can't sleep anymore. When I saw my father put his hands into the cotton-padded jacket again, I hurriedly called him: "Dad, come to my place to warm your hands." As I said this, I lifted the quilt I was covering.
My father saw it, came to me quickly, pushed down the quilt that I had lifted up, and said repeatedly: "I'm not cold, not cold. Be careful, it's the New Year."
My father’s hand touched my hand. His hand was so cold! My nose felt sour, and I felt regretful. I really shouldn't have asked my father for a lantern that could see through the light.
This year’s Spring Festival, my lanterns are the most special. My friends all praised my ice lantern, and even the army was a little envious of me. After a few days, the lamp melted and turned into a body of water. However, I can feel the truest warmth from my father’s cold hands! 3. An essay about my father’s hand
Ever since I was born, there has been a pair of hands that have helped me learn to walk. There are two hands that always hold me in their warm arms and act coquettishly, making me feel happy and warm; there are two hands that often lift me up high and "fly the plane"; there are two hands that always hold my direction and teach me to be meticulous in doing things; His hands brought me back to being obsessed with computer games and helped me get on the right track... That's dad's hand.
My father’s hand has been with me for 12 years now, helping me grow from an innocent and childish child into a good young man with both good conduct and academic performance.
Dad’s hands are very warm. When I was little, I would always push up against the quilt while sleeping. At this time, my father would pick me up with his warm hands, pat me gently, and sing the songs I like to listen to. , until it coaxes me into sleep.
Dad’s hands are very broad. I have wanted to be a pilot since I was a child and be able to fly in the blue sky. Whenever my father gets off work, I always yell for him to lift me up to fly the "plane". My father will use his strong hands to lift me high and make a "bombing" gesture around the house. . At this time, my mother was worried and reminded my father to be careful from time to time.
Dad’s hands are the source of encouragement for my progress.
Once, the teacher recommended me to participate in a children's calligraphy competition. Although I had practiced it at home many times, my hands still kept shaking when I went on stage. You must know that this was the first time that I had shown my talents in front of so many people. . At this time, I only heard a burst of applause coming from the audience. Oh, how loud and powerful a pair of applause sounded, how familiar and familiar it sounded! I turned around and searched in the vast sea of ??people. Ah, it was my father who was standing in the audience. I was immediately confident and wrote a few vigorous and powerful characters - Father's love is boundless! That time I won the first prize in the children's calligraphy competition.
Behind every success I have, there is always a pair of hands that give me courage and increase my confidence, and that is my father’s loving hands. 4. An essay about Dad’s hands of about 270 words
1. An essay about Dad’s hands of 300 words 1: Dad’s hands (333 words)
Dad’s hands are rough, strong, and black. . Dad created a happy family with his own hands, and he created his own career with his own hands. Dad's hand has gradually transformed from working for others to a big boss. I am really proud of him.
In spring, my father swatted mosquitoes for me. In the summer, my father fanned me. In autumn, my father held me in his arms while I slept.
I still remember that in the winter, I was doing my homework, shivering with cold, and my hands were too cold to write, when a warm hand reached out to me. Dad held my hand tightly with his own. Dad said: "Chenchen, you should finish your reading homework first, and I will stay with you here." After waiting for five or ten minutes, Dad had already entered a sweet dream, and then Dad's hand loosened. When I touched my father's hand again, my God! Dad's hands were trembling. I touched my own hands again. I felt like it was a magic trick. In just a few minutes, the body temperature of one person's body was exchanged with the body temperature of another person.
Dad’s hands warmed my hands and my heart at the same time.
2. Dad’s Hands Essay 300 Words 2: Dad’s Hands (317 words)
My dad has two hands, which are covered with calluses and are very rough, but they are It has played a lot of role!
Dad’s hands are omnipotent. Once, the desk lamp at home was broken, and my mother said: "Buy a new desk lamp!" Dad quickly stepped forward to dissuade him: "Don't worry, don't worry, such a small problem can't be troubled by my hand." He took a screwdriver. ,, I took off the lamp, checked the wiring inside with my all-powerful hand, used a screwdriver to smash it, and installed the lamp. At this time, the lamp became its original appearance again. I clapped my hands and exclaimed: "Dad, your hands are really good." Awesome! ”
Dad’s hands are not only good at repairing things, they are also my assistants.
Once, I was learning to ride a bicycle with my father. As I was riding, I fell off for some reason. My father used his strong hands to help me up. It was precisely because of my father’s Only with strong hands did I taste the joy of success.
Dad’s hands are the backbone of the whole family. Dad’s hands make us feel comfortable and warm. It is precisely because of Dad's hands that our family can live a happy life.
3. My father has a pair of strange hands. When winter comes, my father’s hands will be cracked with cracks, so he always wraps them tightly with tape to prevent the cracks from expanding. Despite this, my father never complained.
My father often uses these hands to cook, clean, and sweep the floor for my family... Every time I see my father's hands, I feel particularly warm. I remember that night when my father was "bandaging" his hands, I pestered my father and asked him to blow up balloons for me to play with. At this time, my father blew up the balloons for me without saying a word. The balloon had been blown up by my father. He was about to tighten the balloon when he heard a "pop" sound and the balloon burst. Dad had no choice but to blow another one. Unexpectedly, just as Dad wanted to tighten it, the balloon burst again. It happened like this after blowing it several times in a row. What happened? At this time, we discovered that it was dad's "strange hands" that were responsible. We all laughed. Although the balloon was not blown up, I was still very grateful to my father for his "fatherly hands".
When my father’s students asked him if it hurt to write with chalk, he just smiled faintly. From then on, no one asked him anymore. They just rushed to help his father copy and register his homework every time. My mother often laughed at my father. He has a pair of "rich hands".
Dad’s hands can do many weird things, do you want to know? Just come to my house and see. 5. "Dad's Hands" Composition of 490 words
I love my father's hands that convey warmth. The palms are yellow and no longer tired. When I get an honor, my dad will make a V-shape of victory with his hands and be happy with me. My dad will reach out and pat my shoulder, making me feel special, gentle and kind, not too rough, but refreshing. Feeling warm and empowered, turning red.
When I am frustrated or sad. However, my father's hands can bring me truth and happiness, and I love the father who cares about me even more. My father has a pair of warm hands. In the impression, he caressed my head and gave me the greatest encouragement and comfort. When I walk a long way, my father will squeeze my legs with his hands to make me feel comfortable. They are not as nimble as my mother's hands, not as hard-working as my grandma's hands, and are a whole circle bigger than mine. They are not as good as my usual homework exercises. Ben is much younger, but he still feels cold.
Dad’s hands are not as tender as mine, but they are always warm. On the way, the wind was blowing so hard that it was about to penetrate into people's bones. Although I added many clothes, my father's hand kept holding my hand to keep my hands warm, especially the exposed hands and face. My father's hands are not so delicate to the touch, but they bring me a lot of joy. They are not as strong as my grandfather's hands, which can bear hardships. He pulls me away, and the wind can no longer blow me. He holds my cold little hand in it and shines on it. On my body. I immediately felt that the discomfort in my body disappeared a lot. At this time, my father would ask me to come behind him to block the wind for me. He was holding a heavy schoolbag in one hand, as if he had been cut by a knife, but his hands gradually became cold and wrapped tightly. The back of his hand was light wood color, and the palm of his hand was His veins are very deep and his ten fingernails are cut very short. Dad's one hand can lift me to the top of my head.
The biggest feature of dad’s hands is their warmth. On cold winter mornings, my father would always try his best to take me to school. Along the way.
There were several obvious blue veins protruding on the back of each hand of Dad, and he felt warm in his heart. Dad’s hands are still big. Dad's hands are like a ray of soft sunshine 6. Writing a fragment of the composition "Dad's Hands"
Dad's hands are not very pretty, rough and rough, and have a deep bronze color, much like chocolate. It's like this, but it doesn't have that sweet and attractive taste. It just has a mixed taste of the sweet, sour, bitter and spicy life, but every time I see it, it makes me have the urge to cry.
Once upon a time, my father was a farmer. When I was a child, I never understood why my father always liked to stand in the sun. Looking at the big bronze rough hands with large and small wounds on them, I always have a strange feeling in my heart. I can’t tell what it is, but I always ask my father with a smile, "Dad, Dad, your hand Why are they different from Qianxian’s hands? Dad, daddy, why do you always like to play in the sun? Qianxian doesn’t like it.” Dad always used his hands that had experienced wind and rain to support the family’s livelihood. He stroked my head and said, "Qian Xian, good boy, look," his big hand wrapped around my little hand, which felt a little tingling. Under the sunshine, there are a pair of white and soft little hands and a pair of beautiful hands. "Dad, my hands are like this because I always play in the sun. Qianxian, do you like your hands to be like this in the future?" I pouted and shook my head. "Well, so, Qianxian, just go back to the house and play, and seriously 'play' with the teachers and classmates at school, do you understand?" That hoarse voice rang in my ears under the sun, like a song Nursery rhymes, sing and sing, ferrying my life. "Then Qianxian, please hurry back to the house, and dad will be under the sun. Do you understand?" I nodded with a smile and ran into the house, while dad behind me continued to use his pair of The rough hands kept working, day after day, year after year...
Dad's hands were very strong, and there were many thick calluses on them, which were hard. Yes, but with warmth, it warmed the hearts of our family.
When I was young, no matter how busy my father was, he would always take me to and from school. In my hazy memory, those strong, calloused hands always filled my memory. In the cold winter, the howling of the wind is not a problem for the strong father at all. As long as he waves his strong hands, all the cold will be driven away by him. "Dad..." I pulled on my father's thin coat and looked at him with hope in my eyes. He glanced at the steaming hot food on the stall, lowered his head and asked me, "Qianxian wants to eat." I smiled and nodded. "Yes." Dad's hands, which had become rough from years of farm work, reached into his trouser pocket and touched and touched. After a long time, he finally took out a crumpled five-cent note. But the note seemed to weigh a thousand pounds. Dad's hand hesitated, and the bronze hand swayed up and down in a small area. But Dad's hand was always very strong, and finally he handed it to the smiling boy. Small stall owner, the money easily went into the stall owner's trouser pocket. Holding the warm hot food in both hands, my father carried me onto the bicycle as soon as I was in the air. It was like I was riding a roller coaster. I was amused. "Dad, do you want to eat?" I asked my dad with a smile. Dad touched my face with his calloused hands, "I don't want to eat, Qianxian has to sit tight, and Dad is going to drive." "Don't be afraid, Qianxian is not afraid, Dad's hands are so strong, I won't throw Qianxian out of the car. "In the hazy fog, there is always a pair of strong hands that shield the little girl from all the wind and rain...
Now, my father is old, and he was originally dark. A few silver strands popped out of his thick hair, but those strong hands still had a deep bronze color, just like before... 7. A 440-word essay about dad’s hands
My father has hands that are covered with calluses and very rough, but they play a lot of roles! Dad’s hands are the backbone of the whole family. Dad’s hands make us feel comfortable and warm. It is precisely because of my father's hands that our family can live a happy life.
Dad’s Hands
Zou Yang, Class 5, Grade 5, Leyuan Primary School, Yuncheng County, Shandong Province
My dad has hands, which are covered with calluses and rough. It’s very small, but it plays a lot of roles!
Dad’s hands are omnipotent.
Once, the desk lamp at home was broken, and my mother said: "Buy a new desk lamp!" Dad quickly stepped forward to dissuade him: "Don't worry, don't worry, such a small problem can't be troubled by my hand." He took a screwdriver. ,, I took off the lamp, checked the wiring inside with my all-powerful hand, used a screwdriver to smash it, and installed the lamp. At this time, the lamp became its original appearance again. I clapped my hands and exclaimed: "Dad, your hands are really good." Awesome! ”
Dad’s hands can not only repair things, but they are also my assistants.
Once, I was learning to ride a bicycle with my father. As I was riding, I fell off for some reason. My father used his strong hands to help me up. It was precisely because of my father’s Only with strong hands did I taste the joy of success.
Dad’s hands are the backbone of the whole family. Dad’s hands make us feel comfortable and warm. It is precisely because of Dad's hands that our family can live a happy life. 8. Requesting a 500-word essay on "Dad's Hands"
My father has a pair of warm hands. In my impression, these hands are always warm and bring me a lot of joy.
Each of Dad’s hands has several obvious veins protruding on the back of the hand. The palm of the hand is yellow, the back of the hand is light wood color, the veins on the palm are very deep, and the ten nails are cut very short. Dad’s hands are still very big, a whole circle bigger than mine, and not much smaller than the usual exercise books for homework. Dad's hands don't feel so delicate, nor are they too rough, but they make people feel warm and full of strength. Dad's one hand can lift me to the top of my head.
The biggest feature of dad’s hands is their warmth. On cold winter mornings, my father would always try his best to take me to school. On the way, the wind was blowing so hard that it was about to penetrate into one's bones. Although I put on many layers of clothes, I still felt very cold, especially my exposed hands and face, which felt like they were being cut by a knife. At this time, my father would ask me to come behind him to block the wind for me, holding a heavy schoolbag in one hand, and holding my cold little hand in it with the other, wrapping it tightly, and pulling me away so that the wind could no longer blow. Me. Dad's hand is like a ray of soft sunshine, shining on my body. I immediately felt that the discomfort in my body disappeared a lot, and my heart felt warm. Along the way, my father's hand kept holding my hand to keep my hand warm, but my own hand gradually became cold and red.
When I was frustrated or sad, my father would reach out and pat my shoulder and stroke my head, giving me the greatest encouragement and comfort. When I walk a long way, my father will squeeze my legs with his hands to make me feel comfortable and no longer tired. When I win an honor, my dad will make a V-shape of victory with his hands and be happy with me.
Dad’s hands are not as tender as mine, not as nimble as mother’s hands, not as hard-working as grandma’s hands, and not as able to endure hardship as grandpa’s hands. However, my father’s hands can bring me truth and happiness, making me feel different, gentle and kind.
I love my dad’s hands that convey warmth, and I love my dad who cares about me even more! 9. Dad’s handwriting mostly uses descriptive methods
Writing ideas: First write about why dad taught you to swim, then write about how dad taught you to learn to swim (write in detail), and finally write about what you got from it. Inspire.
Sample essay: In order to make me stronger, my mother and father decided to let me learn to swim. But I was a little scared when I heard the stories from my classmates who had learned to swim.
On the first day of learning to swim, at the urging of my mother, I came to the swimming pool nervously. I saw a swimming pool larger than a basketball court in front of me. The swimming pool was crowded with people wearing colorful swimsuits. Writhing and playing in the water, water splashed everywhere, which made me dazzled. On the first day, we must first get familiar with the nature of water. The teacher asked us to put our hands on the wall of the pool, reach our shoulders into the water, and then walk around the edge of the pool.
As soon as I walked into the pool, I felt a sudden chill that made me shiver involuntarily. After a while, the students were all exhausted, but the cruel teacher still asked us to practice again and again.
In the next few days, the teacher taught us to kick our feet, hold our breath, and row our hands. When kicking, you must first bring your feet up, then turn your feet over, and finally kick them out, quickly clamping them together.
It’s not difficult or scary. After I learned how to kick my feet, I had to learn to hold my breath again. The first time I kicked my feet to hold my breath, I took a big drink of water. I couldn’t breathe and my eyes were sore. At the beginning, I swam from one side to the other. I also had to drink a few sips of water. Later, I mastered the method and quickly learned to hold my breath.
It’s time to learn to paddle again. I learned how to paddle on the ground and I quickly learned it. However, due to timidity, once I got into the water, I became confused and looked like a crab in the water. The teeth dance so hard that sometimes they don’t even dare to get into the water. I was hanging around like this for a few days. Suddenly, one day, the teacher said that I had to remove the floats and check them one by one. When I heard that, my mind went blank. It was my turn. I refused to go into the water. When the teacher saw me like this, he was so angry. I said: "As long as I protect you, there is nothing to be afraid of.
"
After hearing what the teacher said and thinking about my mother's expectations for me, I mustered up the courage and jumped. Ah, I floated, floated, and I can swim." From then on. From then on, I was no longer afraid of swimming and fell in love with swimming.
Learning to swim not only allowed me to appreciate the joy of overcoming fear and achieving success, but also tasted the taste of bitterness first and then sweetness. It is true: "How can you get the fragrance of plum blossoms without going through a bone-chilling cold."