愛英語作文

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愛英語作文匯總9篇

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愛英語作文匯總9篇

愛英語作文篇1

　　Father's love is like the warmth of a sun to give you strength and faith, like the hardness of a diamond to show you his consistent support and strong mind. I am so thankful to feel the love from my father. Raising me up is not easy, and I still can remember that daddy got up early to send me to school when I was a child no matter rainy day or sunny day. He drove a motor to pick me up each weekday after his work and bought snacks for me frequently on the way back home. Greatness comes from daily life and is father's kind care. As I grow up gradually, I do cherish the moment with my parents, especially studying in Canada. Thank you, my dear dad, for teaching me how to be a brave and responsible girl keeping in positive mind. There is an old saying "Trees prefer calm while wind not subside; Son chooses filial whileparents died ." Speak out your love to dear parents and care more about them, and I am sure that they will feel it strongly. "Daddy, I love you".

愛英語作文篇2

　　deep beneath my heart resides my sincere gratitude to miss mo, the young lady who initiated me into the language of english. to her patient instruction, vivacious lecturing as well as her epressive story telling, i owe my love for english.

　　reciting tets was how i started learning english.quite a slow learner in language, i spent more time than the rest listening to the tapes and reading the tets. it is impossible for me not to remember the time when miss mo demonstrated to me the correct way of pronunciation for a thousand and one times after school. instead of a lonely boat lost on the sea of monotonous discourses, gradually i found myself a confident captain capable of steering my own way out of the intriguing ocean of word(s) upon which the great mansion of english literacy is built.

　　later, when we were able to manipulate the language a bit(more) freely, miss mo devised a variety of activities in which we were encouraged to participate.it is she who squeezed the limited class time for us students to sink ourselves into the fascinating world of english songs, ranging from mother goose, the carpenters to the front guard bsb.we were not supposed to merely enjoy the music, but also to interpret the lyrics in our own manner and to epress our feelings respectively. for the first time, i sensed the underlying principle both languages share and share alike; namely, the subtle relationship they bear with the culture.

　　on the third year of my learning english, we are granted a ten minute free show before each class, which served as "a stage to ehibit our talent".some of us gave speeches; some put on mini plays and the others still, organized debates. miss mo neyer interfere beforehand, rather, she took detailed notes and gave comments and advice in face-to-face conversations after class. i bet no one else but she knew eactly how much sacrifice had been made to boost our interest and to summon our intelligence in mastering english, yet she was the last person in the world to speak a word of it.

　　during the past four years since miss mo was appointed teacher of another class when i was a senior one, i went through fire and water to struggle my way out into fudan and the satisfying subject i am now majoring in. passion for english faded due to all these eperiences, however, the cadence of miss mo＇s enduring encouragement and the rhythm of our reciting the lessons echoes.

愛英語作文篇3

　　Everyone in our school likes sports. Every morning, after we get up, we do morning exercises. And after the second class, we do exercises again. We only have PE classes twice a week, but we do sports at five every afternoon. We have school basketball, football and volleyball teams, and our teams often have matches with teams from other schools. Besides ball games, some of us like running, jumping and swimming. Once a year we have a sports meeting.

　　我們學校的人都喜歡運動。每天早晨，我們起床后就做早操。第二節(jié)課后，我們再次做操。我們每周只有兩次體育課，但是我們每天下午5點都會做運動。我們有校級籃球隊、足球隊和排球隊，我們的球隊經(jīng)常與來自其他學校的球隊進行比賽。除了球類運動之外，我們有些人還喜歡跑步、跳遠和游泳。我們一年一度舉行運動會。

愛英語作文篇4

　　感謝父母的愛 Be Grateful to Our Parents

　　Last week our music teacher taught us a song, named Indebted Heart. Through it I know that we should live with a thankful heart. At that time, I think of my parents. I think they are the first people I should thank. It’s them who give me life. It’s them who give me home. It’s them who bring me up. It’s them who look after me. It’s them who teach me knowledge and live happily. I should thank my parents giving me so much. Maybe I should think how to pay back the love my parents give me. But now I think the best way to be appreciated of my parents is to study well and then being a useful person to the society when I grow up.

　　上周我們的音樂老師教了我們一首歌，叫感恩的心。通過這首歌我知道我們應該懷著一顆感恩的心去生活。在那時，我想起了我的父母。我認為他們是我最應該感謝的人。是他們給了我生命。是他們給我一個家。是他們撫養(yǎng)我長大。是他們在照顧我。是他們教給我知識，給了我幸福快樂的生活。我要感謝我的父母給了我這么多。也許我應該考慮如何回報父母給我的一切。但現(xiàn)在我覺得感謝我父母的最好的方法就是好好學習，長大后做一個對社會有用的人。

愛英語作文篇5

　　When we are very small, most of us have heard the song about the praise of the mother, we have been told that mother is the best people in the world. Indeed, our mothers are the persons who give birth to us, who will never abandon us whatever happens upon us. Sometimes we will argue with our mothers, because we think she doesn’t understand us, but after a little while, we always regret for the argument. Actually, she knows her babies, she just cares too much that she doesn’t expect that it will hurt her babies. As kids, we should understand our mothers, too, it is our duty to take care of her, when we are young, mothers take care our us, when they are old, it is our turn to take care of her. It is love that makes the world beautiful, let’s show our love to mothers.

　　當我們很小的時候，大部分人都聽過一首贊賞媽媽的歌，歌中傳達的是媽媽是世界上最好的人。確實，我們的媽媽是生我們的人，一個無論我們發(fā)生什么事，永遠都不會拋棄我們的人。有時候我們會和媽媽爭吵，因為我們覺得她不理解我們，但是過后我們總是后悔。實際上，她了解她的寶貝，只是沒發(fā)現(xiàn)過度的'關系會帶來傷害。作為孩子，我們也應該理解媽媽，我們有責任照顧她，當我們小的時候，媽媽照顧我們，當她們老了，輪到我們照顧她。愛讓世界更美好，讓我們對媽媽表達愛吧。

愛英語作文篇6

　　My introverted nature was quite a stumbling block with my parental relationship. In fact, my dad is also a introvert, we rarely communicate with each other. As a paternal figure, I don't have any complaints about my father. Even though he doesn't have high education nor good advice for me nor a nexcellent example for my life, but one thing I am sure is that he loved me. He's not a good cook, but he cooks for me when mom's working. He doesn't have a car, but he picks me up with his bike under the great heat of summer in elementary school. He could be the shield defends against my mom when I wasdisobedient. I really believed he was my hero back then. Despite all his other flaws, I truly think he's a great father.

愛英語作文篇7

　　MY LOVE

　　Mamma you gave life to me，Turned a babysintosa man，And mamma all you had to offer Was a promise of a lifetime of love,Now I know there is no other

　　love like a Mothers.Love for her child,I know that love so complete someday must leave.Must say goodbye,Goodbyes the saddest word,I'll ever hear.Goodbyes the last time I will hold you near,Someday you'll say that word and I will cry,It'll break my heart to hear you say Goodbye.

　　Mamma you gave love to me,And Mamma all I ever needed Was guarantee of you loving me,Cause I know there is no other love like a mother,the love you give will always live,You'll always be there every time I fall,You take my weakness and you make me strong,And I will always love you till forever comes.And when you need me,I'll be there for you always,I'll be there thru the lonely days.You are the wings that guide my

　　broken flight,and my shelter thru the raging storm,And I will love you till forever comes.

　　媽媽你給了我生命，生下了一個我，媽媽，你給我的一切是一生愛的承諾，現(xiàn)在我知道沒有其他的

　　愛情就像一個母親。愛她的孩子，我知道，愛是如此完整的總有一天要離開。必須說再見，再見傷心的話，我會永遠聽。再見最后一次我會抱著你靠近，總有一天，你會說出那句話，而我將會哭泣，它會打破我的心去聽你說再見。

　　媽媽你給我愛，媽媽，所有我所需要的是保證你愛我，因為我知道有沒有其他的愛，像一個母親，你給的愛會永遠活，你會總是有每次我跌倒，你拿我的弱點，你讓我堅強，我將永遠愛你，直到永遠是。當你需要我的時候，我會在你總是，我會在那里穿過寂寞的日子。你的翅膀，我的向導

　　破碎的飛行，和我的庇護通過肆虐的風暴，我會愛你直到永遠。

愛英語作文篇8

　　It is cold, so bitter cold, on this dark, winter day in 1942. But it is no different from any other day in this Nazi concentration camp. I stand shivering in my thin rags, still in disbelief that this nightmare is happening. I am just a young boy. I should be playing with friends; I should be going to school; I should be looking forward to a future, to growing up and marrying, and having a family of my own. But those dreams are for the living, and I am no longer one of them. Instead, I am almost dead, surviving from day to day, from hour to hour, ever since I was taken from my home and brought here with tens of thousands other Jews. Will I still be alive tomorrow? Will I be taken to the gas chamber tonight?

　　Back and forth I walk next to the barbed wire fence, trying to keep my emaciated body warm. I am hungry, but I have been hungry for longer than I want to remember. I am always hungry. Edible food seems like a dream. Each day as more of us disappear, the happy past seems like a mere dream, and I sink deeper and deeper into despair. Suddenly, I notice a young girl walking past on the other side of the barbed wire. She stops and looks at me with sad eyes, eyes that seem to say that she understands, that she, too, cannot fathom why I am here. I want to look away, oddly ashamed for this stranger to see me like this, but I cannot tear my eyes from hers.

　　Then she reaches into her pocket, and pulls out a red apple. A beautiful, shiny red apple. Oh, how long has it been since I have seen one! She looks cautiously to the left and to the right, and then with a smile of triumph, quickly throws the apple over the fence. I run to pick it up, holding it in my trembling, frozen fingers. In my world of death, this apple is an expression of life, of love. I glance up in time to see the girl disappearing into the distance.

　　The next day, I cannot help myself-I am drawn at the same time to that spot near the fence. Am I crazy for hoping she will come again? Of course. But in here, I cling to any tiny scrap of hope. She has given me hope and I must hold tightly to it.

　　And again, she comes. And again, she brings me an apple, flinging it over the fence with that same sweet smile.

　　This time I catch it, and hold it up for her to see. Her eyes twinkle. Does she pity me? Perhaps. I do not care, though. I am just so happy to gaze at her. And for the first time in so long, I feel my heart move with emotion.

　　For seven months, we meet like this. Sometimes we exchange a few words. Sometimes, just an apple. But she is feeding more than my belly, this angel from heaven. She is feeding my soul. And somehow, I know I am feeding hers as well.

　　One day, I hear frightening news: we are being shipped to another camp. This could mean the end for me. And it definitely means the end for me and my friend. The next day when I greet her, my heart is breaking, and I can barely speak as I say what must be said: "Do not bring me an apple tomorrow," I tell her. "I am being sent to another camp. We will never see each other again." Turning before I lose all control, I run away from the fence. I cannot bear to look back. If I did, I know she would see me standing there, with tears streaming down my face.

　　Months pass and the nightmare continues. But the memory of this girl sustains me through the terror, the pain, the hopelessness. Over and over in my mind, I see her face, her kind eyes, I hear her gentle words, I taste those apples.

　　And then one day, just like that, the nightmare is over. The war has ended. Those of us who are still alive are freed. I have lost everything that was precious to me, including my family. But I still have the memory of this girl, a memory I carry in my heart and gives me the will to go on as I move to America to start a new life. Years pass. It is 1957. I am living in New York City. A friend convinces me to go on a blind date with a lady friend of his. Reluctantly, I agree. But she is nice, this woman named Roma. And like me, she is an immigrant, so we have at least that in common.

　　"Where were you during the war?" Roma asks me gently, in that delicate way immigrants ask one another questions about those years.

　　"I was in a concentration camp in Germany," I reply.

　　Roma gets a far away look in her eyes, as if she is remembering something painful yet sweet.

　　"What is it?" I ask.

　　"I am just thinking about something from my past, Herman," Roma explains in a voice suddenly very soft. "You see, when I was a young girl, I lived near a concentration camp. There was a boy there, a prisoner, and for a long while, I used to visit him every day. I remember I used to bring him apples. I would throw the apple over the fence, and he would be so happy."

　　Roma sighs heavily and continues. "It is hard to describe how we felt about each other-after all, we were young, and we only exchanged a few words when we could-but I can tell you, there was much love there. I assume he was killed like so many others. But I cannot bear to think that, and so I try to remember him as he was for those months we were given together."

　　With my heart pounding so loudly I think it wil1 explode, I look directly at Roma and ask, "And did that boy say to you one day, 'Do not bring me an apple tomorrow. I am being sent to another camp'?"

　　"Why, yes," Roma responds, her voice trembling.

　　"But, Herman, how on earth could you possibly know that?"

　　I take her hands in mine and answer, "Because I was that young boy, Roma."

　　For many moments, there is only silence. We cannot take our eyes from each other, and as the veils of time lift, we recognize the soul behind the eyes, the dear friend we once loved so much, whom we have never stopped loving, whom we have never stopped remembering.

　　Finally, I speak: "Look, Roma, I was separated from you once, and I don't ever want to be separated from you again. Now, I am free, and I want to be together with you forever. Dear, will you marry me?"

　　I see that same twinkle in her eye that I used to see as Roma says, "Yes, I will marry you," and we embrace, the embrace we longed to share for so many months, but barbed wire came between us. Now, nothing ever will again.

　　Almost forty years have passed since that day when I found my Roma again. Destiny brought us together the first time during the war to show me a promise of hope and now it had reunited us to fulfill that promise.

　　Valentine's Day, 1996. I bring Roma to the Oprah Winfrey Show to honor her on national television. I want to tell her in front of millions of people what I feel in my heart every day:

　　"Darling, you fed me in the concentration camp when I was hungry. And I am still hungry, for something I will never get enough of: I am only hungry for your love."

愛英語作文篇9

　　i found half of the day to visit a flower show and had my long hair cut. coming out of the show, i walked along until i came to a park bench. i sat down to allow myself some leisure for the first time since i started learning french two months before.

　　then a book lying in the grass nearby caught my eye. i picked it up. it was a french book in ecellent binding①. as i turned the pages quickly, a young couple came up to ask if i had seen a book in german. wrongly understanding my epression on my face, the young man, who seemed well-educated, added that it was a book in literature.

　　i held out the book and eplained it was a french book on education. the man was so troubled by what i said that he took it away from my hand in a hurry.as they turned to go away, i heard the man speaking: “what do you epect? a guy② with long hair and in bell-bottom trousers③ cant tell german from french.”

　　the girl nodded in agreement, but i was wondering if she would ever find out what was going on.

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