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关于父爱的英语作文1
mothers love wi peoples praises for its selfle . in fact, fathers love is as great as that. they bury their love in the deep bottom of their hearts and will never show it. my father is of this kind. i remembered once i felt ill. mother wa t at home at that moment. father acted as a father and as a mother as well. when he came home from work, he would cook di er for me first. the way he fed me made me think of my kind and tender mother. his eyes were full of love and expectation. i did feel a fathers love at that time.
motherly love by its very nature is unconditional. mother loves the newborn infant because it is her child, not because the child has fulfilled any specific condition, or lived up to any specific expectation.unconditional love corresponds in one of the deepest longings, not only of the child, but of every human being; on the other hand, to be loved because of ones merit, because one deserves it, always leaves doubt: maybe i did not please the person whom i want to love me, maybe this or that--there is always a fear that love could disappear. furthermore, "deserved" love easily leaves a bitter feeling that one is not loved for oneself, that one is loved only because one pleases, that one is, in the last analysis, not loved at all but used. no wonder that we all cling to the longing for motherly love, as children and also as adults. the relationship to father is quite different. mother is the
home we come from, she is nature, soil, the ocean; father does not represent any such natural home. he has little connection with the child in the first years of his life, and his importance for the child in this early period cannot be compared with that of mother. but while father does not represent thenatural world, he represents the other pole of human existence; the world of thought, of man-made things, of law and order, of discipline, of travel and adventure. father is the one who teaches the child, who shows him the road into the world. fatherly love is conditional love. its principle is "1 love you because you fulfill my expectations, because you do your duty, because you are like me." in conditional fatherly love we find, as with unconditional motherly love, a negative and a positive aspect. the negative aspect is the very fact that fatherly love has to be deserved, that it can be lost if one does not do what is expected. the positive side is equally important. since his love is conditional, i can do something to acquire it, i can work for it; his love is not outside of my control as motherly love is.
关于父爱的英语作文2
Flowers are a wonderful gift of nature. Everyone likes them. Flowers portray love, happiness, joy and all the other positive emotions. Since time immemorial flowers have been an integral part of every celebration and festival.
But there has been a misconception. Flowers are mainly associated with feminine gender. It is forgotten that men to have a soft side to them. Gift your father a bouquet of flowers on Fathers Day and he surely will be overjoyed. Flowers, especially architectural and bold like tropical flowers, which are masculine, long lasting, tall and sturdy like the fathers usually are, can be given. White and Red Rose are known to be the official flowers of Fathers Day. People wear a white rose to honor a father who has deceased and a red rose for a father who is living.
Men love bright, hot, bold and aggressive colors like yellows, oranges, purples and reds and the arrangements that they go for are mostly the linear ones that are in sync with their organized, calculating mind. They also love the natural and contemporary floral bouquets that are stylish and trendy. One may opt for roses, daisies or exotic flowers, if only one keeps the color theme in mind. Vivid red roses and yellow daisies are loved by most men and thus make ideal flowers to be gifted on Fathers Day.
关于父爱的英语作文3
Once, when I was a teenager, my father and I were standing in line to buy tickets for the circus. Finally, there was only one family between us and the ticket counter.
This family made a big impression on me. There were eight children, all probably under the age of 12. You could tell they didnt have a lot of money.
Their clothes were not expensive, but they were clean. The children were well-behaved, all of them standing in line, two-by-two behind their parents, holding hands. They were excitedly jabbering about the clowns, elephants, and other acts they would see that night.
One could sense they had never been to the circus before. It promised to be a highlight of their young lives. The father and mother were at the head of the pack, standing proud as could be.
The mother was holding her husbands hand, looking up at him as if to say, "Youre my knight in shining armor."
He was smiling and basking in pride, looking back at her as if to reply, "You got that right."
The ticket lady asked the father how many tickets he wanted. He proudly responded, "Please let me buy eight childrens tickets and two adult tickets so I can take my family to the circus."
The ticket lady quoted the price. The mans wife let go of his hand, her head dropped, and his lip began to quiver. The father leaned a little closer and asked, "How much did you say?"
The ticket lady again quoted the price. The man didnt have enough money.
How was he supposed to turn and tell his eight kids that he didn‘t have enough money to take them to the circus? Seeing what was going on, my dad put his hand in his pocket, pulled out a $20 bill and dropped it on the ground. (We were not wealthy in any sense of the word!)
My father reached down, picked up the bill, tapped the man on the shoulder and said, "Excuse me, sir, this fell out of your pocket."
The man knew what was going on. He wasnt begging for a handout but certainly appreciated the help in a desperate, heartbreaking, embarrassing situation. He looked straight into my dads eyes, took my dads hand in both of his, squeezed tightly onto the $20 bill, and with his lip quivering and a tear running down his cheek, he replied, "Thank you, thank you, sir. This really means a lot to me and my family."
My father and I went back to our car and drove home. We didnt go to the circus that night, but we didnt go without.
关于父爱的英语作文4
After Mom died,I began visiting Dad every morning before I went to work.He was frail and moved slowly,but he always had a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice on the kitchen table for me,along with an unsigned note reading,“Drink your juice.”Such a gesture,I knew,was as far as Dad had ever been able to go in expressing his love.In fact,I remember,as a kid I had questioned Mom“Why doesnt Dad love me!”Mom frowned.“Who said he doesnt love you!”“Well,he never tells me,”I complained.“He never tells me either,”she said,smiling.“But look how hard he works to take care of us,to buy us food and clothes,and to pay for this house.Thats how your father tells us he loves us.”Then Mom held me by the shoulders and asked,“Do you understand!”
I nodded slowly.I understood in my head,but not in my heart.I still wanted my father to put his arms around me and tell me he loved me.Dad owned and operated a small scrap.metall business,and after school I often hung around while he worked.I always hoped hed ask me to help and then praise me for what I did.He never asked.His tasks were too dangerous for a young boy to attempt,and Mom was already worried enough that hed hurt himself.Dad hand fed scrap steel into a device that chopped it as cleanly as a butcher chops a rack of ribs.The machine looked like a giant pair of scissors,with blades thicker than my fathers body.If he didnt feed those terrifying blades just right,he risked serious injury.
“Why dont you hire someone to do that for you!”Mom asked Dad one night as she bent over him and rubbed his aching shoulders with a strong smelling liniment.“Why dont you hire a cook!”Dad asked,giving her one of his rare smiles.Mom straig htened and put her hands on her hips.“Whats the matter,Ike!Dont you like my cooking!”“Sure I like your cooking But if I could afford a helper,then you could afford a cook”Dad laughed,and for the first time I realized that my father had a sense of humor.The chopping machine wasnt the only hazard in his business.He had an acetylene torch for cutting thick steel plates and beams.To my ears the torch hissed louder than a steam locomotive,and when he used it to cut through steel,it blew off thousands of tiny pieces of molten metal that swarmed around him like angry fireflies.
Many years later,during my first daily visit,after drinking the juice my father had squeezed for me,I walked over,hugged him and said,“I love you,Dad.”From then on I did this every morning.My father never told me how he felt about my hugs,and there was never any expression on his face when I gave them.Then one morning,pressed for time,I drank my juice and made for the door.
Dad stepped in front of me and asked,“Well!”“Well what!”I asked,knowing exactly what.“Well!”he repeated,crossing his arms and looking everywhere but at me.I hugged him extra hard.Now was the right time to say what Id always wanted to.“Im fifty years old,Dad,and youve never told me you love me.”My father stepped away from me.He picked up the empty juice glass,washed it and put it away.“Youve told other people you love me.”I said,“but Ive never heard it from you.”Dad looked uncomfortable.Very uncomfortable.I moved closer to him.“Dad,I want you to tell me you love me.”Dad took a step back,his lips pressed together.He seemed about to speak,then shook his head.“Tell me”I shouted. “All right I love you”Dad finally blurted,his hands fluttering like wounded birds.And in that instant something occurred that I had never seen happen in my life.His eyes glistened,then overflowed.
I stood before him,stunned and silent.Finally,after all these years,my heart joined my head in understanding.My father loved me so much that just saying so made him weep,which was something he never,ever wanted to do,least of all in front of family.Mom had been right.Every day of my life Dad had told me how much he loved me by what he did and what he gave.“I know,Dad,”I said.“I know.”And now at last I did.
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