My Mother’s Hands

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Moms hands妈妈的手

Moms hands妈妈的手作者：佚名来源：《疯狂英语·新策略》2022年第05期Night after night， Mom came to tuck me in， even long after my childhood years. Following her long?standing custom， shed lean down pushing my hair out of the way and then kiss my forehead.I dont remember when it first started annoying me. Finally， one night， I shouted out at her，“Dont do that anymore—your hands are too rough！” She didnt say anything in reply.Well， years have passed， and Im not a little girl anymore. Mom is in her mid⁃seventies. One time， it was Mothers Day and I found myself drawn next door to spend the night with my mom.As I slept in the bedroom of my youth， a familiar hand hesitantly ran across my face. Then a kiss， ever so gently， touched my brow. In my memory， for the thousandth time， I recalled the complaint of my young voice. Catching Moms hand in my hands， I blurted out how sorry I was for that night. But Mom didnt know what I was talking about. She had forgotten and forgiven long ago.That night， I fell asleep with a new appreciation for my gentle mother and her caring hands.每天夜里，母亲总是在我入睡之后，为我掖好被子，然后俯下身子，拨开我的头发，亲吻我的前额。

母亲教我画画英语作文初一

母亲教我画画英语作文初一From the earliest days I can remember, my mother's hands were always covered in a kaleidoscope of colors. The smell of oil paint was as common in our home as the scent of jasmine in the spring. She was an artist, not of fame or fortune, but of passion and patience. Her canvas was her sanctuary, and her brushes were her companions. It was in this world of hers that I took my first steps, not just in walking, but in art, in seeing, in expressing.I was seven when she first set a brush in my hand. It was a small, insignificant thing with bristles that had seen better days. But to me, it was a magic wand ready to cast spells in color. "Paint what you feel," she said, her voice a soft melody that danced with the afternoon light filtering through our living room window. I remember staring at the blank canvas, feeling the weight of possibility. My little heart was a storm of emotions I couldn't name, but my mother taught me that day that I didn't need words to express them.She guided my hand, not directing but suggesting strokes as we painted a garden. "See how the green can be brighter here, where the sun touches the leaves?" she would say, and I would watch in awe as the scene came to life under her tutelage. It wasn't just about replicating what was in front of us; it was about capturing its essence, its soul. "Every color has a mood, a temperature, a voice," she explained. "Listen to them, converse with them, and they will teach you their secrets."As the years passed, our roles slowly shifted. I grew bolder in my strokes, more confident in my palette. My mother became less of a teacher and more of an observer, her pride in her eyes more vibrant than any pigment we owned. We would spend hours in silence, communicating only through the language of art. Our conversations were a symphony of colors, a dialogue of imagination.Art became my voice when words failed me. Through every hardship, every joy, every milestone, my brushes were there, painting the story of my life. My mother showed me that art isn't just about creating beauty; it's about finding it within yourself, in the depths of your soul, in the echoes of your heart.Now, as I stand before my own canvas, with my own child's hand in mine, I pass on the legacy my mother gifted me. "Paint what you feel," I whisper, and the cycle continues, a timeless dance of mother, child, and art. For in every stroke, every hue, every canvas we share, we are not just painting pictures; we are painting memories, we are painting love, we are painting life itself.And so, the lessons my mother taught me are not confined to the edges of a canvas. They are etched into the very fabric of who I am. Patience, passion, expression—these are the tools she gave me, tools that shape more than just art. They shape dreams, they shape futures, they shape the very essence of our being.In the end, art is more than a subject to be mastered; it is a journey to be lived. It is a journey I began with my mother's hand in mine, and one I continue with my child's hand in mine. It is a journey of love, of discovery, of endless possibility. And for that, I am forever grateful to the woman who first handed me a brush and showed me the world in a spectrum of colors. 。

关于描写母亲的双手的英语作文

关于描写母亲的双手的英语作文妈妈的手是这汉斯杰上待我最温柔的手。

以下是xx为大家收集的一篇关于描写母亲的双手的英语作文。

供大家参考阅读。

希望喜欢。

Night after night, she came to tuck me in, even long after my childhood years. Following her longstanding custom, she'd lean down and push my long hair out of the way, then kiss my forehead.I don't remember when it first started annoying me —— her hands pushing my hair that way. But it did annoy me, for they felt work-worn and rough against my young skin. Finally, one night, I lashed out at her: "Don't do that anymore —— your hands are too rough!" She didn't say anything in reply. But never again did my mother close out my day with that familiar expression of her love. Lying awake long afterward, my words haunted me. But pride stifled my conscience, and I didn't tell her I was sorry.Time after time, with the passing years, my thoughts returned to that night. By then I missed mymother's hands, missed her goodnight kiss upon my forehead. Sometimes the incident seemed very close, sometimes far away. But always it lurked, hauntingly, in the back of my mind.Well, the years have passed, and I'm not a little girl anymore. Mom is in her mid-seventies, and those hands I once thought to be so rough are still doing things for me and my family. She's been our doctor, reaching into a medicine cabinet for the remedy to calm a young girl's stomach or soothe a boy's scraped knee. She cooks the best fried chicken in the world…… gets stains out of blue jeans like I never could……and still insists on dishing out ice cream at any hour of the day or night.Through the years, my mother's hands have put in countless hours of toil, and most of hers were before automatic washers!Now, my own children are grown and gone. Mom no longer has Dad, and on special occasions, I find myself drawn next door to spend the night with her. So it was that late on Thanksgiving Eve, as I drifted into sleep in the bedroom of my youth, a familiar hand hesitantlystole across my face to brush the hair from my forehead. Then a kiss, ever so gently, touched my brow.In my memory, for the thousandth time, I recalled the night my surly young voice complained: "Don't do that anymore —— your hands are too rough!" Catching Mom's hand in hand, I blurted out how sorry I was for that night. I thought she'd remember, as I did. But Mom didn't know what I was talking about. She had forgotten —— and forgiven —— long ago.That night, I fell asleep with a new appreciation for my gentle mother and her caring hands. And the guilt I had carried around for so long was nowhere to be found.。

《妈妈的手》小升初满分英语作文

Mom's handsI was born in an ordinary family and grew up under the love and care of my mother. Just like a seed, it drifts in the wind and falls in a corner of the world. Few people know about it, but under the care of Mother Earth, it gradually takes root and sprouts. All mothers in the world are like this. For their children, they spare no effort, silently dedicate themselves, and do not reserve. Especially the mother's dexterous hands, which bring endless joy and happiness to our family. Mom, your love and dedication will always be remembered in my heart. Here, I want to deeply praise your ordinary and great hands.My mother's hands are not big, but she shoulders the responsibility of the whole family. Every day, she always gets up early and works ha rd, almost without a moment's rest. In order to make life more comfortable, in addition to finishing the farm work in the field, my mother also goes to the construction site to work and earn money. Under the hot sun, she sweats profusely and works tirelessly. As time flies, my mother's originally delicate hands have become increasingly rough, and a thick layer of calluses has also been worn on her palms. In addition, excessive fatigue has also made her suffer from illness, and she has no choice but to recuperate at home. However, even at home, my mother can't sit still, always busy, doing all kinds of housework.My mother's hands are hardworking and clever. I can wear brand new and comfortable shoes all year round. Although the shoes made by my mother are not as fashionable and beautiful as the leather shoes worn by my classmates, they are comfortable and durable. Whenever we go out together, the shoes of other classmates are either broken or torn, but my shoes are always brand new and never embarrass me. All this is due to my mother's skillful hands. I am full of gratitude and love for my mother's craftsmanship.I remember one winter, it was almost winter, but my father's salary had not been paid yet, and my family could not afford to buy me gloves, so my hands had to endure the cold. Although my mother did not complain, I knew she must be very distressed. One night, I was awakened by a clanging sound. It turned out that my mother was making gloves for me at the sewing machine. At that moment, my tears burst out and blurred my eyes. I quietly got up and approached gently, but accidentally knocked off the shovel on the windowsill. My mother looked up, her eyes were full of bloodshot. She smiled and said to me: "It's getting late, go to bed quickly, you have to go to school tomorrow!" The next day, I put on the warmest and most beautiful gloves in my life. Thank you, mother, thank you for her omnipotent hands!Now, I have grown up, left home and started my own life. But whenever I think of my mother's hands, my heart is filled with warmth and strength. They taught me hard work and perseverance, and made me understand gratitude and cherishment. My mother's hands are the most precious wealth in my life. They witness the greatness of maternal love and also explain the meaning of dedication. In the days to come, I will use my hands to strive to create a better life, repay my mother's kindness in raising me, and make her proud of me.。

Mother's Hands母亲的手

Mother's Hands母亲的手As teenagers we live in a different world from our mothers, a world where mothers hang out on the peripheries. Of course, almost everyone has one; they are unavoidable annoyances.Today, as I approach that edge, as I am the one with the teenage daughter, I look at my mother through different eyes. And I sometimes wish I could halt the years and stop her from growing older, stop her from repeating herself.We sit at my kitchen table as the sun designs a mosaic of light on the the floor. My daughter, Anna, sits next to my mother.“When is Rick going to be here?” my mother asks,referring to my husband.“I don't know, Mom,”I answer patiently.“He’ll be herefor dinner.”I sigh and get up from the table. This is at least the tenthtime she has asked that question in as many minutes.While my mother and daughter play Monopoly, I busy myself making a salad.“Don't put in any onions,” Mom says.“You know howDaddy hates onions.”“Yes, Mom,”I answer, shoving the scallions back intothe fridge.I scrub off a carrot and chop it into bite-size pieces.I thrust the knife into the carrot with more force than is necessary. A slice falls onto the floor.“Don't put any onions in the salad,” she reminds me.“You know how Daddy hates onions.”This time I can't answer.I just keep cutting, chopping, tearing. If only I couldchop away the years, shred the age from my mother's face and hands.My mother had been beautiful. She still is. In fact, mymother is still everything she has been, just a bit forgetful. I try to convince myself that's all that it is, and if she really concentrated, she would not repeat herself so much. There isn't anything wrong with her.I cut off the end of the cucumber and ru b it against thestalk to take away the bitterness. The white juice oozes out the sides. Wouldn't it be nice if all unpleasant situations could be so easily remedied? Cut and rub. This is a trick I have learned from my mother, along with a trillion other things: cooking, sewing , dating, laughing, thinking. I learned how to grow up. I learned the art of sorting through emotions.And I learned that when my mother was around, I never had to be afraid.So why am I afraid now?I study my mother's hands. Her nails are no longer abright red, but painteda light pink, almost no color at all. And as I stare at them, I realize I am no longer looking at those hands but feeling them as they shaped my youth. Hands that packed a thousand lunches and wiped a million tears off my cheeks. Hands that tucked confidence into each day of my life.I turn away and throw the cucumber into the bowl.And then it hits me. My hands have grown into those of my mother's.Hands that have cooked uneaten meals, held my owndaughter's frightenedfingers on the first day of school and dried tears off her face.I grow lighthearted . I can feel my mother kiss megoodnight, check to see if the window is locked, then blow another kiss from the doorway. Then I am my mother, blowing that same kiss to Anna off that same palm.Outside everything is still. Shadows fall among the trees, shaped like pieces of a puzzle.Someday my daughter will be standing in my place, and I will rest where my mother now sits.Will I remember then how it felt to be both mother anddaughter? Will I ask the same question too many times?I walk over and sit down between my mother and her granddaughter.“Where is Rick?”my mother asks, resting her hand onthe table next to mine. The space between us is smaller than when I was a teenager, barely visible at all.And in that instant I know she remembers. She mayrepeat herself a little too much. But she remembers.“He’ll be here,”I answer with a smile. ['instənt] adj.My mother smiles back, one of those grins where thedimple takes over the shape of her face, resembling my daughter.Then she lets her shoulders relax, picks up the dice. 酒窝；涟漪；浅口十几岁的孩子与母亲生活在截然不同的两个世界里，他的世界由母亲监控着。

母亲的手(My Mothers Hands)

母亲的手(My MothersHands)One evening, my mother called me into the kitchen when she was preparing supper. I saw blood dripping from her cut finger. I immediately bandaged her, and it was then that I noticed my mother‘s hands——the hands, which had brought up three children.Her hands like the dry bark of an old oak tree, wrinkled, rough and hard. I could not believe that they were the hands of a lady in the early thirties. They looked like the hands of a knelt beside her and usked her how her hands got like that. She told me that it was the fault of the war. When the Japanese invaded our city, she and father fled inland. They were wretched with no money, no job, no friends. Mother had to do allkinds of hard work: washing, knitting, and sewing. Yet deuth was ulways hovering over them. The surrender made mother and father end their long suffering.After mother finished her story, I had a mixed feeling that I could hardly control my tears from falling. I hated the Japanese invaders. I hated war. But on the other hand, I liked my mother all the more. I kissed her hands with u deep feeling.。

从《游子吟》与《Mother's Hands》的对比中看中西诗歌比较

从《游子吟》与《mother’s hands》的对比中看中西诗歌比较《游子吟》是中国唐朝诗人孟郊的经典之作，成功展现了至今仍广为流传的“慈母原型”和“孝子原型”，在中国的母亲颂歌中具有相当的典型性。

《Mother’s Hands》是美国诗人W. Dayton Wedgefarth称颂母亲的诗歌。

两首诗都以子女的角度赞扬了母亲的伟大，表露出了母爱是至高无上的思想情感。

但是，这两首从不同地域、文化孕育出的诗歌，也让我们看到了中西诗歌的不同之处。

一、内容形式上的比较：首先，两首诗均是以赞美母爱为题材，但在内容角度上的选择不同。

《游子吟》从一个慈母缝衣的普通场景出发，“密密缝”表现了母亲的动作，“意恐”表达了母亲的内心感受，从“衣”和“线”的关系中，表现了“母”与“子”不可分割的关系，更融进了“母”对“子”的深情。

“临行密密缝，意恐迟迟归”将母亲的动作与心理结合起来，描写了母亲对即将远行的孩子的担忧，为全诗增加了更为真挚的感情。

最后两句，诗人用反问的手法，含蓄地表达出一个孝子内心的感受,儿女们如小草受到如春天阳光般的母爱的滋养和哺育，这种恩情是无以报答的。

通过作者的文字，我们眼前就能浮现出那幅生动的画面。

《Mother’s Hands》则是建构了一幅温馨的画面：“Dear gentle hands have stroked my hair”母亲温柔的手抚摸我的头发。

作者在全诗中只写了母亲这一个动作，随后就直接表达出了自己的感受和赞美。

所以从风格上来说，《游子吟》在情感的表达上是委婉含蓄的，即通过母亲的动作描写和心理描写，让作者去揣测那份深情；而《Mother’s Hands》则是直率的表达出了浓烈的情感，让读者一看就能明白那种对母爱赞美的思想感情。

也就是说，《游子吟》通过写景而抒情，而后者则是注重描写景在人心里所唤起的反应，例如当母亲的手触碰到“我”时，“那些隐蔽了我的天空的稍纵即逝的情绪和犯错误的想法，在他们的代祷之下迅速融化流逝”。

我的妈妈MyMother中英作文

我的妈妈My Mother中英作文我的妈妈My Mother中英作文我的妈妈-My MotherMy mother is a nurse。

She loves her job and devotes herself to it。

Last month she went to Beijing to fight against SARS。

My mother didn't go back home until more than one month later。

But I missed her very much。

I knew she tried her best to protect us from SARS。

I love my mother and I feel proud of her。

我妈妈是一个护士。

她热爱她的`工作并献身于它。

上个月她去北京抗击非典，一个多月没回家。

我非常想念她，但我知道她在尽力保护我．们免受非典型，肺炎的侵害。

我爱我的妈妈，并为她自豪。

How lovely my mother is! My mother is a nurse。

In those dangerous days last month， she went to Beijing to fight against SARS。

She tried her best to protect us from SARS。

She had workedthere for more than one month。

I love my mother and feel proud of her。

我的妈妈多么可爱啊!我妈妈是一个护士，在上个月那些危险的日子里，她去北京抗击“非典”。

她尽力保护我们免受非典型肺炎的侵害，在那儿她一工作就是一个多月。

我爱妈妈，并为她自豪。

妈妈的双手英语作文_小学四年级英语作文_

妈妈的双手英语作文
妈妈的双手My Mother’s Hands
Today, my teacher gives us a task. She asks us to observe our mothers’ hands and then write something about how do we feel about it. When I get home, I walk to my mother and then ask her to sit down. I watch her hands and then watch mine. The difference is such obvious. My mother’s hands are so rough that she does so much for the family. She is a great mother.
【参考译文】
今天，老师给了我们一个任务，她要求我们观察妈妈的手，然后写一些感想。

我回到家的时候，我走到我妈妈面前，然后请她坐下。

我看着她的手，然后再看自己的，区别是显而易见的。

妈妈的手非常粗糙，她为这个家付出了很多很多。

她是一个伟大的妈妈。

高二作文日记：Mothers Hands 母亲的手

高二作文日记：Mothers Hands 母亲的手童年的我们被呵护着，一双温柔白皙的手，带来无私的母爱。

恍然间，那双手已经不再温柔了，甚至有些粗糙，但那双手依然给我们带来温暖。

世界上有种最无私的爱，那就是母爱，无论沧海桑田，还是天涯海角，母爱永远难以割断。

记忆深处的那一双手，总是母亲的手。

Night after night， she came to tuck me in， even long after my childhood years。

Following her longstanding custom， she;d lean down and push my long hair out of the way， then kiss my forehead。

I don;t remember when it first started annoying me — her hands pushing my hair that way。

But it did annoy me， for they felt work-worn and rough against my young skin。

Finally， one night， I shouted out at her， ;Don;t do that anymore —your hands are too rough!; She didn;t say anything in reply。

But never again did my mother close out my day with that familiar expression of her love。

Time after time， with the passing years， mythoughts returned to that night。

By then I missed my mother;s hands， missed her goodnight kiss on my forehead。

My handy mother 我心灵手巧的妈妈

My handy mother 我心灵手巧的妈妈（最新版）编制人：__________________审核人：__________________审批人：__________________编制学校：__________________编制时间：____年____月____日序言作文(composition)是经过人的思想考虑和语言组织，通过文字来表达一个主题意义的记叙方法。

作文分为小学作文，中学作文，大学作文(论文)。

作文体裁包括：记叙文、说明文、应用文、议论文。

作文并不神秘，要想写好一篇文章，首先要多看，多想，勤于观察，积累素材。

只有细致的观察生活，积累素材才是写好作文的基础。

首先要明确你要写的主题，认真的审题，列出大纲，不要只注意题目中要求的字有多少，要多注意题目的本身，要多读多想，准确的用好词语和修饰语。

这是审题的关键，要确立好主题的依据，要精心的选材，布局列题，有的材料，还要分析整理。

这就要对材料进行分类，比较，概括，筛选。

我们不要象盖房子那样的把所有的材料都堆砌起来，要合理恰当的组合，具体的说开头和结尾要略写，那么经过就要仔细的推敲，修辞，润色，写好以后不要急于交稿，反复检查认真的修改。

古人说：书读百遍，其义自见。

熟读唐诗三百首，不会作诗也会吟。

这些都说明一个道理，只要你多看书，多读书对你的写作文有一定的好处。

只要你明白这样的一个道理，作文就是要你把生活中喜，怒，哀，乐用文字经过加工，修饰。

整理，也就是我们说的作文。

作文内容My handy motherI think my mother is the most beautiful mother in the world.My mother is very slim and her skin is very white,she has a head of long black curly hair and a pair of big eyes.She is a handy woman.She good at cooking,she can make all kinds of delicious,such as cake,biscuit,dumpling,glue pudding ,zongzi and so on.I like zongzi made by her most.She knits sweater for the whole families every year,I like every sweater she make for me.My mother likes sports and dancing,she take exercises every morning,so she is very healthy.This is my mother,I love my mother forever.参考翻译我心灵手巧的妈妈我觉得我妈妈是世界上最美丽的妈妈。

母亲的双手 My mother's hands

母亲的双手My mother’s handsNight after night, she came to tuck me in, even long after my childhood years.Following her longstanding custom, she’d lean down and push my long hair out of the way, then kiss my forehead.夜复一夜，她总是来帮我来盖被子，即使我早已长大。

这是妈妈的长期习惯，她总是弯下身来，拨开我的长发，在我的额上一吻。

I don’t remember when it first started annoying me her hands pushing my hair that way. But it did annoy me, for they felt work-worn and rough against my young skin. Finally, one night, I lashed out at her: Don’t do that anymore your hands are too rough! She didn’t say anything in reply.But never again did my mother close out my day with that familiar expression of her love.Lying awake long afterward, my words haunted me.But pride stifled my conscience, and I didn’t tell he r I was sorry.我不记得从何时起，她拨开我的头发令我非常不耐烦。

但的确，我讨厌她长期操劳、粗糙的手摩擦我细嫩的皮肤。

最后，一天晚上，我冲她叫：别再这样了你的手太粗糙了！她什么也没说。

小学英语作文：妈妈的手Mother’s Hands

小学英语作文：妈妈的手Mother’s HandsMy mother has the most beautiful hands in the world. They are small and smooth. She can do a lot of things with her hands. She can cook delicious food for us, she can also sew clothes for us.When I was a kid, I was always afraid of the dark. My mother would hold my hands and tell me stories to make me feel better. Her hands were warm and gentle, and they made me feel safe.My mother's hands are always busy. She uses them to clean the house, help my dad with his work, and take care of us. She also uses her hands to help other people. She volunteers at the homeless shelter, and she also helps her neighbors.No matter how tired she is, my mother never stops using her hands. She always says that her hands are a blessing from God, and she wants to use them to make the world a better place.My mother has the most beautiful hands in the world. They are a symbol of her love and care for us. I will always remember her hands and all the wonderful things she has done with them.。

Mother's Hands

Mother's Hands作者：Louisa Godissart McQuillen来源：《疯狂英语·初中版》2016年第05期妈妈的双手参考译文夜复一夜，妈妈总是过来帮我盖被子，即便我早已不是小孩子了。

这是妈妈长久以来的习惯——俯下身，拨开我脸上的长发，然后亲吻我的前额。

记不清是从什么时候开始，我对她拨开我头发的这个行为感到很不耐烦。

但的确，我讨厌她用那双长期操劳的、粗糙的手触碰我娇嫩的皮肤。

终于，在一个夜晚，我冲她大喊：“不要再这样做了，你的手太粗糙了！”她什么也没说，却再也没有用这种我熟悉的爱意表达方式为我的一天画上句号。

这些年来，我总是一次又一次地回想起那个夜晚。

我想念妈妈的双手，想念她印在我前额上的晚安吻。

那个夜晚有时候似乎近在咫尺，有时候又似乎遥不可及，但它始终潜藏在我的脑海深处。

时光飞逝，我再也不是个小女孩了。

妈妈如今已经大约七十五岁了，而那双我曾认为极其粗糙的手仍然在为我和我的家庭忙碌着。

她一直是我们的家庭医生；她能做出世界上最美味的炸鸡；她能去除牛仔裤上的污渍……如今，我自己的孩子也已经长大成人，离开了我的身边。

妈妈不再有爸爸的陪伴，所以在某些特殊的情况下，我会花一整晚的时间陪伴在她左右。

在感恩节前夕的深夜，当我在儿时的卧室里睡着时，一只熟悉的手迟疑地抚过我的脸庞，拨开了我前额的头发，然后一个极其轻柔的吻印在了我的眉毛上。

在我的记忆里，曾成千上万次地再现那晚我稚嫩的抱怨声：“不要再这样做了，你的手太粗糙了！”我一把抓住妈妈的手，一股脑地说出我对那晚的愧疚。

我以为她和我一样都记得那晚的事儿，但妈妈不明白我在说什么。

她已经忘记了——原谅我了——在很久以前。

那天晚上，我带着对妈妈的新认识——她的温柔以及她那双对我呵护备至的手——安然入睡。

而长久以来压在我心头的负罪感也随之烟消云散。

英语短文阅读：母亲的双手 My mother's hands

英语短文阅读：母亲的双手 My mother's handsare the most beautiful hands I have ever seen. They are small and delicate, with long, slender fingers. I remember when I was a child, I would sit and watch my mother as she worked. She could do so many things with those hands. She could make a delicious meal, write a letter, mend a shirt, or knit a scarf.My mother's hands were always busy. She would often take on sewing projects for family and friends. She was able to take a piece of fabric and turn it into something beautiful. She could sew a dress or a quilt, and she could even make elaborate costumes for school plays.My mother's hands were also very gentle. She would hold my hand when I was scared or sad. She would stroke my hair when I was sick. She would give me a hug when I needed comfort. I felt so safe and secure in my mother's embrace.My mother's hands were also very strong. She could lift heavy objects with ease. She could open jars that were too tight for me. She could carry me when I was too tired to walk.My mother's hands were a symbol of her love and care. They were a reminder that she was always there for me, no matter what. I will always cherish the memory of my mother's hands.。

我的妈妈太辛苦作文英语

我的妈妈太辛苦作文英语My Mother Works So Hard。

My mother is an amazing woman. She works so hard every day to take care of our family and make sure we have everything we need. I admire her strength and dedication, and I am so grateful for everything she does for us.Every morning, my mother wakes up early to prepare breakfast for the family. She then goes to work, where she spends long hours at her job to provide for us. Despite being tired, she always comes home with a smile on her face, ready to take care of us and spend time with us.In addition to her job, my mother also takes care ofthe household chores. She cooks delicious meals, cleans the house, and makes sure everything is in order. She never complains about the work she has to do, and she always does it with love and care.My mother's hard work doesn't stop there. She also helps me and my siblings with our school work, and she is always there to support us in everything we do. She attends our school events, helps us with our projects, and listens to our problems. She is our biggest cheerleader and our rock, and we are so lucky to have her in our lives.Despite all the hard work she does, my mother never asks for anything in return. She does everything out of love for her family, and she never complains or expects recognition. She is selfless and kind, and she always puts our needs before her own.I am so grateful for everything my mother does for us. Her hard work and dedication inspire me to be a better person, and I hope to make her proud. I know that everything she does is for our well-being, and I am so thankful to have her as my mother.In conclusion, my mother is an incredible woman who works so hard to take care of our family. Her strength, dedication, and love are truly admirable, and I am sograteful for everything she does for us. I love my mother more than words can express, and I will always be thankful for her hard work and sacrifices.。

初中作文致敬我心中的那双手

初中作文致敬我心中的那双手英文版In my heart, there are a pair of hands that have always been there for me. They are strong and capable, yet gentle and comforting. These hands belong to my mother, the most important person in my life.From a young age, my mother's hands have been my guiding light. They have wiped away my tears, held me close when I was scared, and lifted me up when I fell. Her hands have cooked countless meals, cleaned up after me, and worked tirelessly to provide for our family.But more than just physical tasks, my mother's hands have also been a source of love and comfort. Whenever I feel lost or alone, her hands are there to hold mine and reassure me that everything will be okay. They are a constant presence in my life, a reminder of her unwavering support and unconditional love.I am forever grateful for the hands that have shaped me into the person I am today. They have taught me the value of hard work, sacrifice, and compassion. They have shown me what it means to be a strong, loving, and selfless individual.To my mother and her hands, I offer my deepest gratitude and admiration. They are a symbol of everything good in this world, and I am truly blessed to have them in my life.致敬我心中的那双手在我心中，有一双手一直在支持着我。

新高考英语读后续写素材积累（2）--手脚动作描写

新高考英语读后续写素材积累（2）--手脚动作描写2021新高考英语读后续写素材积累（2）--手脚动作描写手1.Pointed at by my math teacher, I was chocked.我的数学老师指着我，我吓坏了2.I galanced down at my mother's hands folded across her purse, which was resting on her lap.我兴高采烈地趴在母亲的手上，手叠在她腿上的钱包上。

3.Mike was watching a horror movie when his trembling hands almost knocked over the coke.迈克在看恐怖电影时，他颤抖的双手几乎把可乐打翻了。

4.He took a firm grip of my arm and marched towards the door.他紧紧抓住我的胳膊，朝门口走去。

5.Tom knelt down and patted the dog.汤姆跪下来拍了拍狗。

6.Make sure you keep hold of my hand when we cross the road.过马路时一定要牵着我的手。

7.He tightened his hold, refusing to let her go.他紧紧抓住她，不让她走。

8.He grasped the rope tightly with both hands.他双手紧紧抓住绳子。

9.She smiled and held out / reached out a hand in wecome. 她微笑着伸出手来。

10.He slid his hands into his pockets and pull out some change.他把手伸进口袋，掏出一些零钱。

11.When I got to the cafe, I was seeing Bob waving his armstowards me.当我到咖啡馆时，正看到鲍勃在向我打招呼12.He sat carefully with his head in his hands.他双手抱着头，小心翼翼地坐着。