女兒在父親節(jié)寫的滿分作文

時(shí)間:2023-05-01 22:34:55 作文寫作 我要投稿
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女兒在父親節(jié)寫的滿分作文

  導(dǎo)語:世界上有一種愛,是最無私的,最偉大的,就是母愛。世界上還有一種愛,卻是默默的,它不輕易表現(xiàn)出來,就是父愛。下面是小編為大家整理的女兒在父親節(jié)寫的滿分作文,歡迎大家閱讀。

女兒在父親節(jié)寫的滿分作文

  父親節(jié)快來到了,女兒給老師交了一篇作文,題為爸爸,這篇作文老師給了100分,學(xué)校老師把這篇作文傳給她的媽媽,她媽媽又傳給我,我看了以后,把它翻譯出來,看看孩子17歲的心靈里是怎么看我這個(gè)爸爸的!我感到孩子長(zhǎng)大了,她有著一顆敏感而聰慧的內(nèi)心,做父母的言行,從小就會(huì)在孩子心靈刻上烙印,我們要用勇毅,堅(jiān)強(qiáng),奮斗來帶動(dòng)孩子,教會(huì)他們用博大的胸懷和眼光看待事物,他們其實(shí)比我們更聰明!

  “Baba”

  It’s been seventeen years, Baba.

  It’s been seventeen years, but I still feel like we’re strangers at times.

  Seventeen years, and I still feel like we might be oceans apart.

  Years, and I am only now reflecting on who you are.

  It’s been seventeen years, and I am only now learning about who I am, myself.

  For the first year of my life,you were a cradle and a singsong voice. Your arms brought me up to the 7thfloor balcony of our apartment building in Shenzhen. Your hands gently patted my back with a reassuring rhythm. Your mouth hummed gentle tunes and blew warm air on my cheek. I can still smell the rain-washed, rusty railings of the balcony. It’s been seventeen years and I still associate the feeling of falling asleep with the feeling of your pleasant, petrichor-laced cotton shirt against my cheek.

  For the first three years of mylife, you were a powerful, invincible force of being. You were the feeling of being thrown up into the nothingness of the sky, the feeling of my little thumping heart dropping down to my belly, the feeling of being caught just before a frantic wail escaped from my little terrified lungs. Your shoulders were like the strong branches of a tree, and I, settled upon them contentedly, was like the prized fruit they bore. Your magical hands produced colorful marbles and foil-wrapped candy. It’s been seventeen years and I still associate the feeling of childlike wonder with the crow’s feet creases of your eyes.

  For the first eight years of my life,you were the man with a suitcase. You flew back and forth. You came and went,stayed and left. You were gifts from China. You were sweaters from Auntie,dolls from Hong Kong, and colorful crayons from the shops at the airport. You were the years upon years of thoughts and longings spoken from my mother’s lips;you were the single most exciting two weeks of each and every one of my childhood years. You were the silly broken English and the scary scoldings in Chinese. You were the forcibly memorized multiplication table and the tears of shame when my memory betrayed me. It’s been seventeen years and I still have a slight but very profound fear of algebraic expressions.

  And then, you were the man of China. You transported me across land and sea and even more land. You were the man who hailed countless taxis, the man who spoke confidently and assuredly in Chinese and the man who carried three suitcases at once, while pulling meacross the skybridge at 3 am in the morning after our landing. You were the man with sweat running down his forehead while I had tears of homesickness runningdown my cheek. You were the man who taught me how to swear and bite, kick and punch, outlearn and outsmart all 49 of the Chinese students in my class. They, the overly brash third graders who tried to bully me, the new girl from Canada withthe braces, the foreign girl with the broken Chinese, all backed down as soon as I stood up. You told me simply: “Fight back”. It’s been seventeen years, andI still credit the toughest parts that exist within me to your words.

  For the next ten years of my life, you faded into the background as I stepped into the foreground.

  Your colorful polo shirts have been exchanged for grey, lint covered sweaters. The skin on your hands has become weather-worn and dry. Your crow’s feet creases have deepened and bags have formed under your eyes. Your words have become harsh and critical, and have often reduced me to tears and fits of rage.

  But men are men; the best sometimes forget.

  You have aged, and I have grown.You have taught, and I have known.

  You taught me to strive, to seek,to find, and not to yield.

  You are still the one who sparked within me a scintilla of understanding towards my cultural and personal identity. You are still the one who laid down another layer of meaning to my definition of “home”.

  It’s been seventeen years, Baba.Seventeen years have gone by and only now do I understand you as a teacher, a father, a human being. Only now do I extract from you lessons on how to become a young and developing human being, myself.

  It’s been seventeen years, Baba,and although oceans have always separated us and still continue to do so, family,culture and love still bind us together.

  譯文:      爸爸

  時(shí)光流過了十七年,爸爸!

  十七年了,可是此時(shí)此刻,我依然覺得我們形同陌生人!

  十七年了,可我依然覺得我們遠(yuǎn)隔重洋!

  十七年了,僅僅現(xiàn)在,我才開始回想,你是誰!

  十七年了,僅僅現(xiàn)在,我才開始了解我自己,我到底是誰?

  在我生命中的第一年,你是一個(gè)搖籃和一個(gè)唱著歌的聲音!你的手臂抱著我到我們深圳住房的七樓陽臺(tái)上,你的手和著讓我安心的節(jié)拍,溫柔地輕拍著我的后背。你的嘴里哼著溫柔的曲調(diào),熱氣呼在我的臉頰上!我現(xiàn)在依然能聞到雨后陽臺(tái)上那生銹的欄桿上鐵銹的氣味。十七年了,我現(xiàn)在依然能夠聯(lián)想起我熟睡時(shí),你的帶有潮濕氣味的棉短袖衣服貼在我臉頰上的舒服的感覺。

  在我生命中的第三年,我感到你是一股強(qiáng)大的不可戰(zhàn)勝的力量。你把我拋向空中,讓我的心緊縮地狂跳,在我感到就要掉在地上的一剎那,你一下把我接住。你的肩膀就像強(qiáng)壯的樹枝,我穩(wěn)穩(wěn)地坐在你的肩上,就像掛在樹上的果子。你總是用你的像魔術(shù)一般的手,在我的面前為我變出許多用彩色錫紙包著的糖果。十七年了,我依然用我孩子氣的好奇心,看著你眼角的魚尾紋漸起。

  在我生命中的第八年,你是一個(gè)提著手提箱的男人,你飛來飛去,你來了又走了,你住下又離開。你代表著從中國(guó)帶來禮物,你帶來姑姑們織的毛衣,你意味著香港的玩具娃娃,你意味著機(jī)場(chǎng)購(gòu)物店的五彩蠟筆。你意味著年復(fù)一年的思念,意味著媽媽口中日日不停的念叨。你代表的是我童年生活中每年的那最高興激動(dòng)的兩個(gè)星期,你代表的是蹩腳的英語,你代表的是可怕的中文的斥責(zé),你代表著強(qiáng)迫我記憶乘法口訣表,你也代表著我忘記背下口訣表以后羞愧的眼淚!十七年了,我今天依然還對(duì)你教我學(xué)習(xí)數(shù)學(xué)懷有一些小小的恐懼。

  然后,你是我眼中的一個(gè)中國(guó)男人。你帶我們遠(yuǎn)涉重洋,還有更多的地方。你是那個(gè)帶著我在路邊招呼出租車的人,那個(gè)用中文自信地侃侃而談的人,那個(gè)一次帶著三個(gè)行李箱的人,那個(gè)在我們著陸以后,在午夜三點(diǎn)拉著行李箱,帶我們走過人行天橋的人,你是那個(gè)當(dāng)我思鄉(xiāng)的淚流在臉頰的時(shí)候,額頭流著汗水走在最前頭的人,你是那個(gè)教我如何反擊別人欺負(fù),如何打敗對(duì)手,如何用智慧和勤奮在短時(shí)間超過全班49名中國(guó)同學(xué)的人。當(dāng)時(shí),在我回到中國(guó)就讀三年級(jí)的時(shí)候,他們總是不斷地欺負(fù)我這個(gè)說著蹩腳中文、戴著牙套、剛從國(guó)外回到深圳的女孩,只要我一站起來,他們就從背后把我推倒!我哭著回到家,你簡(jiǎn)單地告訴我:“反擊他們,你也把他們推倒!”十七年了,多虧了你當(dāng)時(shí)對(duì)我說的這句強(qiáng)硬的話語,我依然受益非淺!

  在我生命中隨后的十年里,你的背影在消失,而我走向前臺(tái)!你多彩的球衣漸漸變成暗灰色,磨起的小絨球覆蓋住了你的毛衣,你的皮膚和雙手被風(fēng)雨侵蝕得干燥了,你眼角的魚尾紋在加深,你的眼臉也起了眼袋,你的話語有時(shí)候變得生硬和刺傷人,這有時(shí)使得我傷心淚流和憤怒!

  可是人就是人,好在我們會(huì)忘卻不快!

  你已漸老,我在長(zhǎng)大;你所教的,我已知曉!

  你教我奮斗、追求、尋找,而不是退縮!

  你依然是那個(gè)點(diǎn)燃我內(nèi)心的、深諳我自己的文化底蘊(yùn)和個(gè)性特質(zhì)的火花的那個(gè)人!

  你依然是那個(gè)為我鋪墊關(guān)于家的另一層含義的那個(gè)人!

  十七年了,爸爸,十七年過去了,只是到了現(xiàn)在我才明白,你就是一個(gè)老師,一個(gè)父親,一個(gè)男人!僅僅在現(xiàn)在,我從你的課堂里終于知道我自己如何變成一個(gè)年輕人、一個(gè)不斷進(jìn)步的人!

  十七年了,爸爸,雖然廣闊的海洋總是將我們分開,而且繼續(xù)地分開我們,可是,家庭、文化和關(guān)愛,還是將我們緊密地聯(lián)在一起!

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