Leftovers in a restaurant essay 600 words

The word cherishing is familiar in the eyes of many people, doesn't this tell us to cherish the present time and cherish the present characters? I didn't know what it meant to cherish, but I always felt like I had to do it.

Looking back now, I can't help but reminisce and want to go back to the past. The time of fifth grade is wonderful and inviolable.

Remember? When we knew that our head teacher was surnamed Bao, we agreed that it was Bao Bao. When we know that Mr. Baobao collects buns every day and goes home, he has a new nickname - "Teacher Baozi".

I'll never forget that my best friend and I teamed up to bully a male classmate and kick over his desk before the evening self-study. The contents of the drawer fell to the ground one after another, and when we saw the embarrassment of the boy picking up things, my friend and I covered our mouths and laughed happily.

Remember? Our class is often crazy together, regardless of gender, and we are sweaty and laughing and laughing. But this joyful march will inevitably have some small episodes: "Monkey King vs. Bull Demon King" and "The squad leader chases the boys."

Run" and "Boys bullying girls" are like movies in our eyes, and our class will show them every day. This adds a lot of fun to it to us viewers.

Always and always remember. On Children's Day, the head teacher taught us to dance, and his twisted dance made us unforgettable. I remember that during the sports day, our class worked together to win glory for the class.

It was all in fifth grade, and now that I think about it, I can't help but sigh. Why not cherish it? Otherwise, my fifth grade would have been colorful and enviable. Friends, cherish the present, don't sigh in the future!

Mother, one of the people we are most familiar with, maternal love, a word we are familiar with, but how many people really understand and experience? I would like to ask a question, who eats your family's leftovers? It won't be yourself.

They must all be mothers! It's true in everyone's home, and mine is no exception.

One day at noon, my mother made rice and fried a plate of cabbage. However, because my father didn't eat something, he saved a bowl of rice. Naturally, I don't eat leftovers, so the "burden" of eating leftovers falls on my mother's head.

In the afternoon, my father and I were eating fresh meals, while my mother was chewing on the rice in a "difficult" bite. Mom picked up a mouthful of rice with chopsticks, put it in her mouth, chewed it carefully a few times, frowned slightly, and then swallowed it with difficulty. Another bite seemed to be more difficult than the previous one, and after frowning for a while, he still swallowed decisively.

Repeat this again and again, pick it up again and again, chew it again and again, frown again and again, swallow it again and again. I always have to drink a few sips of water every two bites, probably because the rice is too dry. Although every bite was so difficult, my mother did not hesitate or give up.

Perhaps because of her farmer background, my mother never wasted food, and never allowed my brother and I to waste it. Yes! It would be a pity to waste such food after a year of hard work.

My brother and I are also very sensible, because we also understand that food is hard to come by. There is a good saying: "A porridge and a meal, when thinking is not easy to come by, half a silk and half a thread, perseverance and material resources are strong."

Doesn't this tell us that food is hard to come by?

This is mother's love, you can feel mother's love from this little thing, so why do so many people take their mother's love for themselves for granted?