At 4:35 a.m. on March 7, 1994, I was born in this lovely and beautiful world. At that time, the parents were overjoyed. Later, my parents began to educate me and teach me how to be a human being. That kind and gentle words made me seem to enter a mysterious fairyland. After that, my father began to teach me to write again. He was very strict with me. If you can't get it right, you can hit me. So I was slapped a dozen times that day, and my face was red and swollen. In my eyes is a kind of infinite fatherly love. Some parents never give their children real love. It's also a kind of love that Dad told me to recite composition. When I don't want to recite or worry about the lack of time to recite the composition, I'm afraid to see my father's familiar smile and feel ashamed to face him. Why is it a kind of love that my father told me to recite composition? Because he wanted me to recite the composition, improve my composition level, enter Yiwu No.1 middle school, then enter Peking University and other universities, and finally find a good job. Although my grades are not so good, I will study hard. I want to turn my parents' love into motivation and their love into a magic weapon for me to study hard. Let the dream of father and mother become a reality. My love for my parents is hard to express in words.
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