A family of four is like a swing. My father is Liang Hejia, my mother is rope and board, and my brother and I are on the swing, playing the warmth of becoming a monk together.


Father's love is silent and touching.


When I was a child, due to the differences between my parents, I also had different attitudes towards them. My father was very strict with me, but my mother loved me very much. Therefore, I like my mother.


One day, my father stood silently at the door, and saw that I came back. There was a trace of joy in his eyes, but his body was stubbornly indifferent. I said go home, and walked into the door, smelling the smell. I felt very happy, so I ran to my mother. As soon as my mother saw me, she said, "come on, wash your hands, taste your father..." before I said anything, He was stopped by his father and said in a hurry, "yes, try the craft of the Communist Party of China.".


Later, my mother told me that in fact, it was specially made for me by my father. Suddenly, my throat began to choke... Later, when I thought of it, a sour feeling came to my heart. Gradually, I began to rely on this mountain, and I began to rely on this beam and frame


Maternal love is like water, moistening the heart.


At the beginning of the quiz, my study time was very tight. I didn't go to sleep until 12 o'clock every day. Every time, my mother waited patiently and seemed to have forgotten the work of tomorrow. When I was about to finish my homework, a cup of hot milk came up. Several times, I found that the milk was different, and the fresh and thick taste seemed to be mixed with the sweet taste, which spread repeatedly in my mouth, I began to see the milk under the light. By the light, I seemed to see the bright light in the cup. The milk became translucent - honey. Isn't this what my father bought for my mother? How