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Do you know? Legend has it that the daughter is the lover of my father's last life. When I first heard this sentence, I laughed and leaned forward. I don't know past lives, I only know this life. In this life, I am your baby girl, you are my beloved father. Young me, lively and lively, mischievous, my mother said that I am like a "fake boy", and you said: Nothing, children should be carefree, how happy! When you grow up, you want her to be like this, maybe it's impossible! So, you play with me every day, so that my childhood is colorful. At that time, you are my little friend who went to elementary school. Although I am not as naughty as before, the headache is learning. Mom quickly gave me a tutorial class and training center. My little days have been a mess. At this time, my great father has extended a helping hand to me. You help me to analyze the learning process carefully and study with me. We have created a brilliant future, so my mother has reduced my burden. At that time, you were my "timely rain." Time flies, I am already a middle school student. In the face of sudden pressure, I was caught off guard. In the face of a field test, I repeatedly hit the wall and almost broke my blood Newport Cigarettes Coupons. At this time, you are calling the school dormitory to care for me, understand my situation, and patiently enlighten me. Returning home after a holiday, you will accompany me to stay up late to tutor homework. In the dark night, the shadow of two hard readings under the bright lamp was quietly cast on the ground. At this time, my mother did not forget to send us some nightingales to ease the fatigue. In this way, the family of three struggled on a quiet night... At that time, Dad, you are my "guardian." Now, facing the intense preparations for the senior high school Cigarettes Online, I heard that the horn of the battle has already sounded. Once again, you deeply touched me. It is your intimate conversation with me. It makes me realize the importance of the senior high school entrance examination to me, and I have the motivation to bring my dreams. I realize that it will be nine years. After the hard work, return the best gift for you and your mother. At this moment, Dad, you are my spiritual pillar. Dad, thank you for your hard work and support for 16 years. Thank you for your contribution to my mother, my love for me, thank you for letting me have your company in the journey of life, and have the care of love. For sixteen years, spring, summer, autumn and winter, thank you for your love and promote my healthy growth. I will use my actual actions to reward your love. Your salute to your baby daughter: April 2013 �� [Part 2] Time from the finger Sliding through, every minute, every minute, the number of bits and pieces, time goes by, and love never misses the inscription when I was a child, love is a faint smog, and I said, "Come back! I was in childhood at that time." The poor daily work gave us the opportunity to ��flower�� everywhere Marlboro Gold. The family is surrounded by forests in the countryside, and we are in the world. We are getting late, looking up and seeing a faint smoke, that is A silent call, a quick step home. The mother smiled at me. Then the various beautiful things and delicacies of the sea and the taste of the sea served on the table, the mother looked lovingly at me, and my eyes were full of love, not forgetting to bring me food. Father Jokingly said: "If you do this, you will become a fat pier sooner or later! "Yes, the mother is smart and the heart is more skillful. This dish - even the simplest white cabbage - contains his love for the young, how can it not be delicious? Love is a smoke, the taste of home After growing up, love is silent and inclusive, silently paying. That is, I am in a teenager, facing the daily accumulation of homework, my figure broke into the sea, in front of a paragraph of text and A piece of information, the more tired, the bigger the brain will be. I often yell like a mother because of a small incident. The mother chose to embrace with love. Silently brought me a cup of milk and silently arranged for me. The book, silently washing my socks for me, silently tying up every shoelace for me, silently enduring my unreasonable roar. The years wrinkled her cheeks, and the time was white for her horns. He was tolerant. Everything, the son has to face the first turning point in life, how can she not be considerate and inclusive? Love is her silent tolerance is the warmth of home. Later, love is a row of dense stitches, close-fitting, comfortable. At that time, I have stood firm in a company. Every time Going to work, the boring life has smoothed my ambition, but it has not polished her heart. Under the dim light, she slammed the bottom a little. The woven sleeves, she did not need me to try on, because she was engraved in her heart I often show my colleagues the unique skills of her "Mother's hands in the line, the wandering clothes". That is her sign around me. When I am busy for a day, I take off the secular suit, inside is the seam of her stitching A needle and a line, including her concern and love, how can we not fit, comfortable? Love, is her countless stitches, is the touch of the family and now, love is my nostalgia for her, no longer taste The taste of home. I can't feel the warmth of home anymore. I can't enjoy the touch of home anymore. But I am sure that love is still there. Because love is with time.
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