愛英語作文

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【實用】愛英語作文4篇

　　在學習、工作或生活中，大家都嘗試過寫作文吧，作文是從內部言語向外部言語的過渡，即從經過壓縮的簡要的、自己能明白的語言，向開展的、具有規范語法結構的、能為他人所理解的外部語言形式的轉化。為了讓您在寫作文時更加簡單方便，下面是小編為大家整理的愛英語作文4篇，僅供參考，大家一起來看看吧。

【實用】愛英語作文4篇

愛英語作文篇1

　　A little boy invited his mother to attend his elementaryschool’sfirst teacher-parent conference. To the little boy sdismay, shesaid she would go. This would be the first time that hisclassmatesand teacher met his mother and he was embarrassed byherappearance. Although she was a beautiful woman, there was aseverescar that covered nearly the entire center side of her face.The boynever wanted to talk about why or how she got the scar.

　　At the conference, the people were impressed by the kindnessandnatural beauty of his mother despite the scar, but the littleboywas still embarrassed and hid himself from everyone. Hedid,however, get within earshot of a conversation between hismotherand his teacher, and heard them speaking.

　　How did you get the scar on your face? the teacher asked. The mother replied, When my son was a baby, he was in a roomthatcaught on fire . Everyone was too afraid to go in because thefirewas out of control, so I went in. As I was running toward hiscrib ,I saw a beam coming down and I placed myself over him tryingtoprotect him. I was knocked unconscious but fortunately, afiremancame in and saved both of us. She touched the burned sideof herface. This scar will be permanent 8, but to this day, Ihave neverregretted doing what I did.

　　At this point, the little boy came out running towards hismotherwith tears in his eyes. He hugged her and felt anoverwhelmingsense of the sacrifice that his mother had made forhim. He heldher hand tightly for the rest of the day.

　　有個小男孩邀請他的母親去參加學校舉辦的第一次家長會，令他沮喪的是，媽媽竟然答應去。同學們和老師將是第一次見到媽媽，但是，媽媽相貌令他感到難堪。雖然母親非常漂亮，但她整個右臉幾乎被一塊嚴重的傷疤覆蓋了。小男孩從來不曾想問母親傷疤的來歷。

　　家長會上，小男孩媽媽善良和藹以及天生麗質給人們留下了深刻的印象，沒有人在意她臉上的那塊傷疤。但是，小男孩卻感到局促不安，他藏起來不與人打照面。盡管如此，他還是能聽到媽媽和老師的談話，能聽見他們談話的內容。

　　“您臉上的傷疤是怎么來的?”老師問道。

　　小男孩的媽媽答道：“兒子很小的時候，他的房間突然著火了，大家都不敢進去，因為火勢失控了。我進去了。就在我跑向他的嬰兒床時，我看到一根房梁就要倒下來，我撲到他的床上，想護住他。房梁把我砸暈了。幸運的是，消防員沖了進來，救了我們。”她摸著臉上的傷疤，說：“這塊傷疤會永遠留在臉上，但是直到今天，我從沒為我做的事后悔過。”

　　聽到這里，小男孩走了出來，滿含熱淚奔向媽媽，擁抱著她。母親為自己作出的犧牲讓他內心激動無比。那天后來，小男孩緊抓媽媽的手不曾松過。

愛英語作文篇2

　　Before I was going to senior school, my father had never said a word to show his love to me, so that I thought he did not love me very much and sometimes I was upset about it. However, when I left home for senior school, he called me frequently and just asked me some simple questions like: how’s your study and life? When do you come home? or something like that. Gradually, I realize that he misses me although he would never say it out. So this is father’s love, not so obvious but definitely deep.

　　在我上高中之前，我父親曾對我說了一句話來表達他對我的愛，所以我認為他不是很愛我，有時候我對此感到很苦惱。但是，當我離開家到高中的時候，他經常給我打電話，而且只是問我一些簡單的問題，比如你的學習和生活怎么樣了？什么時候回家？或者是一些類似的問題。漸漸地，我意識到盡管他從不會說出來，但是他很想念我。所以這就是父愛，不是很明顯但是絕對很深。

愛英語作文篇3

　　Occasionally, without warning, the drunken wreckage of my father would wash up on our doorstep, late at night, stammering, laughing, reeking of booze. Bang! Bang! Bang! Beating on the door, pleading to my mother to open it.

　　有時候，在毫無預兆的情況下，父親會半夜醉醺醺地出現在我們家門口，結結巴巴地講著酒話，時而大笑幾聲，滿嘴酒氣。砰！砰！砰！大力敲著門，懇求母親為他開門。

　　He was on his way home from drinking, gambling, or some combination thereof, squandering money that we could have used and wasting time that we desperately needed.

　　他要么剛剛喝完酒回來，或賭了幾把，要么兩者皆有。他揮霍著我們本可以用于日常開銷的血汗錢，還浪費了我們迫切需要的時間——和父親在一起的時間。

　　It was the late-1970s. My parents were separated. My mother was now raising a gaggle of boys on her own. She was a newly minted schoolteacher. He was a juke-joint musician-turned-construction worker.

　　那是20世紀70年代末。我的父母離婚了。那時，母親獨自一人撫養著我們幾個兒子。她是一位新上任的老師。父親原本是一名鄉間酒館的駐場樂師，后來成了建筑工人。

　　He spouted off about what he planned to do for us, buy for us. In fact, he had no intention of doing anything. The one man who was supposed to be genetically programmed to love us, in fact, lacked the understanding of what it truly meant to love a child—or to hurt one.

　　他喋喋不休地說自己計劃為我們做什么、買什么。事實上，他根本不打算做任何事情。一個在血緣關系上本應該愛我們的人，實際上并不懂得對孩子而言什么才是真正的愛，也不知道什么是傷害。

　　To him, this was a harmless game that kept us excited and begging. In fact, it was a cruel, corrosive deception that subtly and unfairly shifted the onus of his lack of emotional and financial investment from him to us. I lost faith in his words and in him. I wanted to stop caring, but I couldn’t.

　　對他來說，這是一種并無惡意的游戲，它讓我們時而興奮，時而覺得像在乞討。但這實際上是一種侵蝕性的殘酷欺騙，它巧妙卻又不公平地將他對我們缺乏感情和物質投入這一責任轉移到我們身上。我不相信他的話，對他完全不信任。我想不去在乎他，但我做不到。

　　Maybe it was his own complicated relationship to his father and his father’s family that rendered him cold. Maybe it was the pain and guilt associated with a life of misfortune. Who knows. Whatever it was, it stole him from us, and particularly from me.

　　也許是他與自己的父親及其復雜的家庭關系，使他變得冷酷。也許是他生活的不幸所造成的痛苦和內疚使然。誰知道呢。不管是什么，反正它把他從我們這里偷走了，特別是從我這里。

　　While my brothers talked ad nauseam about breaking and fixing things, I spent many of my evenings reading and wondering. My favorite books were a set of encyclopedias given by my uncle. They allowed me to explore the world beyond my world, to travel without leaving, to dream dreams greater than my life would otherwise have supported.

　　當我的兄弟們沒完沒了地談論怎樣拆解破壞再重修東西時，我卻在許許多多個晚上潛心閱讀和思考。我最喜歡的書是我叔叔給的一套百科全書。這些書讓我探索超越我成長天地以外的大世界，足不出戶隨心旅行，做那些遠非我生活所能承載的美夢。

　　But losing myself in my own mind also meant that I was completely lost to my father.

　　但沉醉在自我意識里，也意味著在父親眼中我變得完全陌生了。

　　He could relate to my brothers’ tactile approaches to the world but not to my cerebral one. Not understanding me, he simply ignored me—not just emotionally, but physically as well. Never once did he hug me, never once a pat on the back or a hand on the shoulder or a tousling of the hair.

　　他能明白我兄弟們那種打打鬧鬧闖世界的方式，卻從不懂我心田開智慧的那一套。他不理解我，就干脆無視我——不僅情感關懷欠奉，對我根本視若無睹。他從來沒有擁抱過我，從沒拍過我的后背，也不會搭我的肩膀或撥弄一下我的頭發。

　　My best memories of him were from his episodic attempts at engagement.

　　他留給我的最美好回憶是他時不時地嘗試和我們接觸。

　　During the longest of these episodes, once every month or two, he would come pick us up and drive us down the interstate to Trucker’s Paradise, a seedy, smoke-filled, truck stop with gas pumps, a convenience store, a small dining area and a game room through a door in the back.

　　這些插曲中持續時間最長的是，每隔一兩個月，他會來接我們，沿著州際公路驅車把我們帶到卡車司機樂園。這是一個破爛、煙霧繚繞的載貨汽車停車場，有加油站、一家便利店、一個小小的用餐區，還有穿過背后一扇門即可到達的一間游戲室。

　　My dad gave each of us a handful of quarters, and we played until they were gone. He sat up front in the dining area, drinking coffee and being particular about the restaurant’s measly offerings.

　　父親給我們每個人一把硬幣，我們一直玩到輸光硬幣才停下來。他就坐在用餐區前面，一邊喝咖啡，一邊挑剔著餐廳里食物的份量太少。

　　I loved these days. To me, Trucker’s Paradise was paradise. The quarters and the games were fun but easily forgotten. It was the presence of my father that was most treasured. But, of course, these trips were short-lived. And so it was. Every so often he would make some sort of effort, but every time it wouldn’t last.

　　我喜歡那些日子。對我來說，卡車司機樂園的確是一個天堂。硬幣和游戲充滿了樂趣，只是容易被遺忘。最寶貴的是父親能來。但是，當然了，好景不長。事實的確如此。時而，他會努力擠出時間，但每次都不會持續很長時間。

　　It wasn’t until I was much older that I would find something that I would be able to cling to as evidence of my father’s love.

　　直到年齡漸長，我才找到一些可以體現其父愛的證據。

　　When the Commodore 64 personal computer debuted, I convinced myself that I had to have it even though its price was out of my mother’s range. So I decided to earn the money myself. I mowed every yard I could find that summer for a few dollars each, yet it still wasn’t enough. So my dad agreed to help me raise the rest of the money by driving me to one of the watermelon farms south of town, loading up his truck with wholesale melons and driving me around to sell them.

　　當Commodore 64型個人電腦上市時，我下定決心要買一臺，即使它的價格超出了我母親的支付能力。于是我決定自己賺錢。那年夏天，我給能找到的每一個庭院割草，每家賺幾美元，但錢還是不夠。于是父親答應幫我去籌集剩下的錢。他驅車帶我去鎮上南面的一家西瓜農場，把批發買來的西瓜裝上卡車，帶著我去附近的地方把西瓜賣出去。

　　He came for me before daybreak. We made small talk, but it didn’t matter. The fact that he was talking to me was all that mattered. I was a teenager by then, but this was the first time that I had ever spent time alone with him. He laughed and repeatedly introduced me as “my boy,” a phrase he relayed with a palpable sense of pride. It was one of the best days of my life.

　　天亮前，他來接我。我們閑聊了一會兒，但這不是重點。重要的是他和我聊天。那時我已是一個青少年，但那卻是我第一次與他獨處。他笑著，并多次在向別人介紹 “這是我的'兒子，”這樣四個字，被他用一種明顯的自豪語氣傳達著。那是我生命中最美好的時光。

　　Although he had never told me that he loved me, I would cling to that day as the greatest evidence of that fact. He had never intended me any wrong. He just didn’t know how to love me right. He wasn’t a mean man.

　　雖然他從未說過他愛我，但我會認定，那天是他愛我這一事實成立的最大證據。他從沒想過對我造成任何傷害。他只是不知道用什么方式來愛我。他并不是一個壞心腸的人。

　　So I took these random episodes and clung to them like a thing most precious, squirreling them away for the long stretches of coldness when a warm memory would prove most useful.

　　所以我拾起這些偶然出現的片段，并堅持認為它們是最珍貴的東西。我將它們珍藏著，在冷漠的記憶長河中，這些溫暖的片段最為窩心。

　　It just goes to show that no matter how estranged the father, no matter how deep the damage, no matter how shattered the bond, there is still time, still space, still a need for even the smallest bit of evidence of a father’s love.

　　我的經歷只是表明：不管父親曾經與你如何疏遠，無論他對你造成了多深的傷害，無論你們之間的紐帶是如何破裂的，你仍有時間、有空間，并且有必要去找尋哪怕是能證明父愛的最小的證據。

　　“My boy.”

　　（正如）“我的兒子。”

　　A Parable of a Child

　　一個孩子的寓言

　　by Steve Goodier

　　父母說：“我有一個孩子，他/她將來會成為一名……”

　　孩子說：“我是你們的孩子，我將來會成為一名……”

　　省略號的內容由你決定！教育與經驗之間是有區別的。教育就是從閱讀文字所得到的，而經驗是從不閱讀而得到的。看一個故事，你就會明白“偉大的學習來自于教育和經驗的結合”。

　　一名青年教師夢見天使出現在他面前，對他說：“你將會有一個孩子，他/她將來會成為一名世界領袖。你得讓她意識到自己的智慧，增長自信心，開發她果斷不失細膩，虛心而又堅韌的性格特質，你會如何為她做準備呢？”

　　夢醒時，青年教師一身冷汗。他從沒經歷過這種事情。照夢中所說的，他現在或將來的學生之中的任何一個人都有可能有成為他夢中聽到的那個人物。他準備好了要去幫助他們實現每一個志向嗎？他默默想：“既然知道了某一個學生會成為那個人物，那么我的教學方式該怎么改變一下呢？”一步一步地，他已經開始暗自籌劃了。

　　這名學生不僅需要有經歷，而且需要有人指導。他的教學方式改變了。對他而言，每一個走過他教室的年輕人都有可能成為未來的世界領袖。他看這些學生時，不是看他們曾經是什么樣子，而是看他們將來可能成為什么樣子。他以一種平和的心態期盼學生發揮最大的潛力。他在教育學生時，仿佛世界的未來完全掌握在他的教導中。

　　多年以后，他所認識的一名女子成為舉世矚目的人物。這時他才悟出，她就是那晚夢中天使所說的那個女孩。只是，她不是他的學生，而是他的女兒。在女兒一生所遇到的老師之中，他是最棒的。

　　我聽過這樣一句話：“孩子是我們給自己無法預見的某個時間、某個地點所發送出去的活信息。”可這并不僅僅是一則有關一個無名教師的寓言，而是有關你我的寓言——不論我們是為人父母，還是為人師表。而這個故事——我們的故事，其實是這樣開始的：

　　“你將有一個孩子，他/她將來會成為一名……”你來填完這個句子吧，如果不填“世界領袖”，那么“絕世好爸”也行；再要不“優秀教師”？“妙手神醫”？“不按常理出牌的問題克星”？“鼓舞人心的藝術家”？或是“慷慨無私的慈善家”？

　　你會在何地、如何遇見這個孩子，那是一個謎。可是，你要相信，一個孩子的將來很有可能就取決于你給他/她所造成的影響；也要相信，孩子會出人頭地的。對你來說，任何孩子都是不平凡的，你也因此脫胎換骨。

　　A young school teacher had a dream that an angel appeared to him and said, “You will be given a child who will grow up to become a world leader. How will you prepare her so that she will realize her intelligence, grow in confidence, develop both her assertiveness and sensitivity, be open-minded, yet strong in character？”

　　The young teacher awoke in a cold sweat. It had never occurred to him before——any ONE of his present or future students could be the person described in his dream. Was he preparing them to rise to ANY POSITION to which they may aspire？ He thought, “How might my teaching change if I KNEW that one of my students were this person？” He gradually began to formulate a plan in his mind.

　　This student would need experience as well as instruction. His teaching changed. Every young person who walked through his classroom became, for him, a future world leader. He saw each one, not as they were, but as they could be. He expected the best from his students, yet tempered it with compassion. He taught each one as if the future of the world depended on his instruction.

　　After many years, a woman he knew rose to a position of world prominence. He realized that she must surely have been the girl described in his dream. Only she was not one of his students, but rather his daughter. For of all the various teachers in her life, her father was the best.

　　I’ve heard it said that “Children are living messages we send to a time and place we will never see.” But this isn’t simply a parable about an unnamed school teacher. It is a parable about you and me——whether or not we are parents or even teachers. And the story, OUR story, actually begins like this:

　　“You will be given a child who will grow up to become…” You finish the sentence. If not a world leader, then a superb father？ An excellent teacher？ A gifted healer？ An innovative problem solver？ An inspiring artist？ A generous philanthropist？

　　Where and how you will encounter this child is a mystery. But believe that one child’s future may depend upon influence only you can provide, and something remarkable will happen. For no young person will ever be ordinary to you again. And you will never be the same.

愛英語作文篇4

　　I used to write a composition is about a mother's love, only just realized a mother's love. When I read a story about a mother's love, will be great. But whenever I see a father, I feel very hypocritical. But when I experience, to know the greatness of a father.

　　My father looks mediocre, sometimes the mood is not good he will also have the feeling of disgust. He had no talent, even not finished elementary school, he, with a clueless look on his face when I read English sometimes I just in my heart secretly scorn.

　　In my eyes he is a "silly".

　　One night, eight more minutes, my mother said to me: "it's time for bed, so late. Again the don't come tomorrow." I have to hang down his head, a face of injustice. I laid the quilt, I dull looking at the white ceiling. Secretly wonder that morning new English song "trouble is a friend", at that moment, a stamped on the ground of the voice is getting closer and closer to me, I began to pretend to sleep, it is my dad, he came to the house, he stopped footsteps, even small panting breath, I can feel he has been tightly staring at me. He stopped for several minutes, and then quietly left.

　　At this point, I unknowingly shed tears, don't know what I to.

　　I've seen people describing a father "the father loves the mountain". I don't know the father. In fact, father is really serious, he just couldn't express. He never said 1: "I love you, baby." Such disgusting words. When what I want, he will try to meet me.

　　My father in my life, always will be a giver.

　　In that day, I read - deep a father.

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