优秀散文范文(篇一)

Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room. One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid from his lungs. His bed was next to the room‘s only window. The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back. The men talked for hours on end.

They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military service, where they had been on vacation. And every afternoon when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window. The man in the other bed began to live for those one-hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color of the world outside.

The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Young lovers walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every color of the rainbow. Grand old trees graced the landscape, and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance. As the man by the window described all this in exquisite detail, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine the picturesque scene.

One warm afternoon the man by the window described a parade passing by. Although the other man couldn‘t hear the band - he could see it in his mind‘s eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words.

Days and weeks passed. One morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths only to find the lifeless body of the man by the window, who had died peacefully in his sleep. She was saddened and called the hospital attendants to take the body away.

As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone. Slowly and painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the world outside. Finally, he would have the joy of seeing it for himself. He strained to slowly turn to look out the window beside the bed. It faced a blank wall.

The man asked the nurse what could have compelled his deceased roommate who had described such wonderful things outside this window. The nurse responded that the man was blind and could not even see the wall. She said, "Perhaps he just wanted to encourage you."

优秀散文范文(篇二)

If life is a river, it is the most exciting is that a section of |.

Flowing a trickle of childhood, life began to restlessness, personality spray, a piece after piece of Pentium the melody of youth. It is surging, it's always a time of the wild and intractable, slap embankment, heaving ship of life.

As an individual, water is gentle and weak, often easily conquered by other objects. As group. The water is tough, it can constantly wear stone, without fear of breaking off the mountains. So, water is the most talked about team spirit. Its initial exploration may be blind, but once it determines the future direction of its own, it will not hesitate to rush up, in the earth sketched out a trail of pioneers.

A hedge between keeps friendship green. It is not big, it has a strong vitality, with flexible ways of showing the wisdom of waves, Jianxi, lakes, rivers, oceans, and even people's sweat and the eyes are the soul of the container. It corrects the coordinates of human relationships with detachment. So water is a gentleman in all things.

We often say that only refers to the negative Fire and water have no mercy., it. As the source of all things, water is the most selfless, no matter where the creator sends it, it has no regrets. It enables life to continue, so that the mountains and rivers full of spirituality, with all things side by side to withstand the sun still can consume, together with the air to maintain the human emotions.

The water of youth has never been so many scruples and rules and regulations, once the old river bed can not break the outbreak of youth, will break through the shackles, and create a new channel. Its thorough reflection of the world's bright, its simplicity is often easy to cause sediment mixed, its courage to frighten the road ahead of the trip stone, its unruly and often hurt innocent. Simple and complex intertwined, creation and destruction of the same life, this is the youth, a fast and colorful journey of life.

Because the vibrant air peiran, so it often makes people worried about the fragile and even collapse. However, the youth of the river is never stop, despite the rapids reefs stop, stop it without determination. Conform to the laws of nature, mercilessly destroy waves after the waves did not figure, and so will most willing to to assist waves together into the distance.

Some people love in fact he did not see the placid in smooth water, the role and value of youth, not experienced fighting waves of pleasure. The charm of youth lies in the strong and fierce, without the dynamic world will be stagnant water, life will be insipid.

Due to constraints, is not a drop of water can be agitated in the flood, not every river can HAOGE thousands of miles into the sea, have not yet landed was ruthlessly evaporated, some were artificially waste. Even so, it can't change its youthful personality.

Jianxi can stay, after all the sea waves are. Because the drops of water to the sea of ambition, only the eternal flow of historical torrential rivers. It will not be small because of its own small drops of inferiority, nor because of the rise of dams and convergence of publicity personality. When the energy is slowing down, looking at the waves rolling behind it, it will proudly say: "my youth once was like this."

优秀散文范文(篇三)

Last night I fell asleep, even the dream is not as clear as ever.

Wake up at six in the morning, eyes still closed, open ears, the habit of waiting, waiting for the sound of birds frolic rush me. But today seems to be unable to do so, the ears of birds, by twos and threes is sparse, not the style of the past. Get a look at the balcony area with a thin layer of water, it became the hope for a long time, the rain has quietly from the dream of, without a trace of wind, quietly falling in the balcony, garden, give me joy, bring a morning.

Standing on the balcony, the habit of looking toward the East sky, in the past, there is the illusion of region, today, was relieved of rain heavy makeup, a rare white makeup. The rain washed Lai mountain, showing a dark green before the ink is dry. A mountain, also learn Qian Tang wave shape, from the sky, turning forward and downward wrapped, will be a mountain as the wye. The large mountains on the southwest side are also connected by clouds and fog. They are running aimlessly around the mountain under the direction of the wind, and they are covered with a thin mass, like a crumpled yarn, which covers the large mountains. Along the ridge, there is a big windmill, with only a faint blade of wind in the clouds, far away, like the artifact that stirs the sea of clouds.

The rain was so low-key and soft, but it was very unexpected. In this area the sands Jianggan hot valley, the weather has always been as hot tempered temper upright man, it was a sunny sunny, cloudless; rain, just under the doctrine of the mean, it is never jifengzhouyu! Character, because, in its chest hall, in addition to coal, iron is. But anyway, it's so soft and occasional, it's very good for me.

Downstairs banyan tree, for three years, in the M care, now, has returned to the two floor restaurant a window shade, four seasons cool. Yesterday is a tree full of birds, cicadas, today, do they have to run where rain, leaving a window the rain entangles in the ear.

Banana, is the ancient rain liangpeng. For those fond memories of childhood, also for the rain beat the rhythm of the banana, last year deliberately from the farmland for a plant, now is already the five son around the knee. Large slender banana leaves, natural long side faces a zithers, spread into the air, as if waiting for such a rainy season, waiting for God's hand to get Xu light bomb. Think of the "rain beat banana" that you've been thinking about, and why don't you listen carefully and see if you can hear a little bit of poetry?. So, I was leaning out of the window, to the ear that a fine rain, tell which is a rhyme from rain, unfortunately, Teana is not easily leaked to the laity. It will be a little closer, distance closer? I put Kampuchea back to the upstream of the palm leaf hat, who came to the tree from the back door close to run a few steps, and this maner is rain in the dry brown leaf on the crackling rain as voiceless, dry Dutch general sounds. It seems that this time can not listen to the rain playing banana.

It was close to the edge of the papaya tree wax, palm leaved lace slightly involute, from upstairs to see Ye Fangru, a fine dew plate shape. The crystal raindrops fall, it is a careful income intraday, chest stand as respectful nod, a reception for guests like.

The moist night rain garden, lawn, a restless state, become green thrown up. Only pine peony some difficult, wore a bulging buds, no sun, it will be like? I'm a little worried about it for. Out a look, such as his pocket like peony flowers open, decorated by raindrops, it has an indescribable charm, from the flower of love arise spontaneously. Hibiscus and Bougainvillea on the side of the road in the rain is still warm, open, Xingxingdiandeng, became a real Rare Rainy day.

I thought, the rain sky, a gray, it is lonely. M two surprise call, but let me see another version. As I look down his fingers over the trees looked at low altitude, some brave bird, through ups and downs in the thick rain. "I don't know why they fly in the rain," M said. "Wait a minute and you'll understand.". Sure enough, the bird flight area, I gradually found that there are some imperceptible insects and also wandering in the rain, to take their own lives to lure birds rather baffling. The birds are also quite appreciate, everyone is smart air hunter, they found that flies in circles, aerial reconnaissance fast chase, a mouth, began to look for the next target, again, never. M is the same way, will be standing in the doorway, with his eyes chasing a kite drifting bird.

And I sit at the window, with the rain outside the window, read two pages of books, write two lines of words, the heart is also moist.

优秀散文范文(篇四)

Three passions, simple but overwhelmingly strong, have governed my life: the longing for love, the search for knowledge, and unbearable pity for the suffering of mankind.

These passions, like great winds, have blown me hither and thither, in a wayward course, over a deep ocean of anguish, reaching to the very verge of despair.

I have sought love, first, because it brings ecstasy –ecstasy so great that I would often have sacrificed all the rest of life for a few hours of this joy.

I have sought it, next, because it relieves loneliness--that terrible loneliness in which one shivering consciousness looks over the rim of the world into the cold unfathomable lifeless abyss.

I have sought it, finally, because in the union of love I have seen, in a mystic miniature, the prefiguring vision of the heaven that saints and poets have imagined.

This is what I sought, and though it might seem too good for human life, this is what- at last- I have found.

With equal passion I have sought knowledge.

I have wished to understand the hearts of men.

I have tried to apprehend the Pythagorean power by which number holds sway above the flu.

A little of this, but not much, I have achieved.

Love and knowledge, so far as they were possible, led upward toward the heavens.

But always pity brought me back to earth.

Echoes of cries of pain reverberate in my heart.

Children in famine, victims tortured by oppressors, helpless old people a hated burden to their sons, and the whole world of loneliness, poverty, and pain make a mockery of what human life should be.

I long to alleviate the evil, but I cannot, and I too suffer.

This has been my life.

I have found it worth living, and would gladly live it again if the chance were offered me.

优秀散文范文(篇五)

By the end of the lunar calendar, the supermarket in the city was full of exquisite red lanterns, and all kinds of paper-cut were also displayed on the glass windows, which are the symbols of the year, and also the business cards of the year. I am deeply in taste like a fragile old jars were these symbols and name card suddenly shattered, pouring wine with rich mellow taste ran away.

When I was young, I looked forward to the new year. From the twenty-three to the twelfth lunar month lunar, every day seemed to be colorful, exudes the fragrance of sweet thick cotton. In the village the old lady sitting on the futon on the thick teach us singing nursery rhymes: "twenty-three people, officer; twenty-four, twenty-five, and sweep the house; grinding tofu; twenty-six, twenty-seven, Steamed Buns steamed; kill chickens; twenty-eight, paste painting; twenty-nine, to buy wine; thirty years, the first large package dumplings; Juezhaopigu, chaos and bow." This nursery rhyme like Chinese new year we guide people in the village, when the lunar twenty-three eat candy, Jizao God twenty-four of the time, she was busy with a broom to clean the house, twenty-five of the time for the new year to eat tofu, twenty-six when steamed flower, every family Steamed Buns steamed turnip tassel buns...... For thousands of years, the sun has risen to the west along the eternal path, and in the spring of winter, people have followed such a new year for the past year.

The twenty-three is the twelfth lunar month small, also called on the people, this day is also my hometown of Lu Wan market day day. The bazaar was crowed with crowds of people. I followed my parents, see the candy seller clamoring to buy candy, see selling firecrackers clamoring to buy firecrackers, see Apple clamoring to buy apple...... My parents agreed and bought me new socks, shoes, hats and clothes, and made me new from head to toe. Parents usually live frugally, pennies. They usually do not buy fruit, do not buy pork, do not buy clothes, and be generous to the new year. When we go home, just like a kangaroo carrying large bags of special purchases for the Spring Festival on the way home, stumbled. My parents are busy in the fields all the year round, and only by the time of the new year they enjoy a few good days. They always give the best to their children.

We are a group of crazy kids to sell this shop to buy guns, guns, pull large firecracker fell in my pocket, playing in the Village Lane ran, a gun will readily fall down on the ground, the sound of a sharp crackling sound, scared the general turmoil. We were tired and dug some small pits in the street and played a game of glass balls. So far, I have forgotten the rules of the glass ball game, but remember that I lost the glass ball to the small partner who won the game. When I grew up, I found that there were many mysterious games in the adult world, which were more brutal and deeper than the children's games. If we fail in the game, losing is not the glass ball so not worth mentioning things may be even Months and years pass by. effort, freedom and happiness for all.

Our family sat in the kitchen to make dumplings on the afternoon of the thirty day of the year. The mother and the surface, Ganmian skin. A brother. My father and I sat in front of the pot to make dumplings. My brother looked at me and laughed at the dumplings, and said that some of the dumplings I made were like dead fish, some like a fat pig, some like a dumb duck, so ugly. The father took a one - cent coin out of his pocket and wrapped it into the dumplings and said, "whoever eats this dumpling tonight is the most blessed one." When dusk, firecrackers bombed the village as one falls, another rises, the air was filled with the smell of gunpowder Cecil strands. The mother wrapped dumplings into the boiling water bubbling in the pot. Father with a shovel and a layer of sand in the yard. The sand is the lunar twenty-five tractors from the village of Sha Gang pull back a little bit, dispersion fresh smell atsumi. I have been puzzling over on the thirty people in the village and a layer of sand. In the yard, probably meaning except new year, blessings and fortunes. I stepped on the fresh and moist sand and picked up a red red firecracker with a bamboo pole. Brother from zaotang took a stick to fire lit firecrackers. After a burst of crackling cannons, the mother has a steaming and smell dumplings filled to a white porcelain bowl. A bowl of pork, pork, cabbage and dumplings are dipped in the old vinegar, which is the annual dinner of our family. After the new year's night dinner, the mother always burned a pot of hot water. One family sat on the bench on the foot into an iron bowl with hot feet, feet side side and laughing. The mother said to wash feet a year on New Year's Eve: evil and evil distress. The new year will add to your happiness and your longevity, peace and prosperity. The mother will also put a few new bills in the pocket of me and my brother. She said that whether adults or children, when the old pocket should be rich, so all the year round does not spend money, we will have a good day off too rich. The past year is more like a ritual of delineation of a good life.

We can't be lazy in the morning of the first year of the year. We should get up early and wake up consciously, and parents can't wake us up. When the dawn of the village of firecrackers like thunder. I woke up from the bed, his eyes pulled out a cigarette from the cigarette box in her father's door hanging in the mouth, provoked a long firecrackers, with a cigarette igniting firecrackers, then a burst of firecrackers, smoke free, strong smell of gunpowder in the yard diffuse. After breakfast, they go to the family of the elderly in knots with kowtow to pay New Year's call. My friends and I played in a free way, carrying money to the shop for glass balls, bubble gum and firecrackers.

Year after year silently past. Years like a buddy, a hand holding a fun toy, another Dianzhe gluttonous delicacy beckons us, loudly, fascinated us. As we grow up, the year looks like we grow up. It turned into a well - mannered teenager from a lively and naughty child and became a deep and stable youth in the years' change. Would not like before and we play firecrackers game, not like before eating food with us, and we will never be the same again with whimsy......

I sit on the sofa pondering over the years in taste or. I seem to smell the sweet smell of flower candy, Steamed Buns smell smell, smell the aroma of cooked pork, pork and cabbage dumplings delicious, smell the smell of firecrackers......

优秀散文范文(篇六)

If I Rest, I Rust

The significant inscription found on an old key---“If I rest, I rust”---would be an excellent motto for those who are afflicted with the slightest bit of idleness. Even the most industrious person might adopt it with advantage to serve as a reminder that, if one allows his faculties to rest, like the iron in the unused key, they will soon show signs of rust and, ultimately, cannot do the work required of them.

Those who would attain the heights reached and kept by great men must keep their faculties polished by constant use, so that they may unlock the doors of knowledge, the gate that guard the entrances to the professions, to science, art, literature, agriculture---every department of human endeavor.

Industry keeps bright the key that opens the treasury of achievement. If Hugh Miller, after toiling all day in a quarry, had devoted his evenings to rest and recreation, he would never have become a famous geologist. The celebrated mathematician, Edmund Stone, would never have published a mathematical dictionary, never have found the key to science of mathematics, if he had given his spare moments to idleness, had the little Scotch lad, Ferguson, allowed the busy brain to go to sleep while he tended sheep on the hillside instead of calculating the position of the stars by a string of beads, he would never have become a famous astronomer.

Labor vanquishes all---not inconstant, spasmodic, or ill-directed labor; but faithful, unremitting, daily effort toward a well-directed purpose. Just as truly as eternal vigilance is the price of liberty, so is eternal industry the price of noble and enduring success.

优秀散文范文(篇七)

I was six years old, my sister, Sally Kay, was a submissive three-year-old girl. For some reasons, I thought we needed to earn some money. I decided we should "hire out" as maids. We

visited the neighbors, offering to clean houses for them for a quater cents. Reasonable as our offer was, there were no takers. But one neighbor telephoned my mother to let her know what Mary Alice and Sally Kay were doing.

Mother had just hung up the phone when we came first into the back door into the kitchen of our apartement. "Girls," mother asked, "why were you two going around the neighborhood telling people you would clean their houses?" Mother wasn't angry with us. In fact, we learned afterwards she was amused that we had came up with such an idea.

But, for some reason, we both denied having done any such thing. Shocked and terribly hurt that her dear little girls could be such "boldfaced liars" . Mother then told us that Mrs. Jones had just called and told her we had been to her house and said we would clean it for a quater cents .

Faced with the truth, we admitted what we had done. Mother said we have fibed, we have not told the truth. She was sure that we knew better. She tried to explain why a fib hurt, but she didn't feel that we really understood.

Years later, she told us that the lesson she came up with for trying to teach us to be truthful would probably have been found upon by child psychologists. The idea came to her in a flash, and a tender-hearted mother told us it was the most difficult lesson she ever taught us. It was a lesson we never forgot. After admonishing us, mother cheerfully begain preparing for lunch. As we monching on sandwhiches, she asked:" Would you two like to go to see the movies this afternoon?"

"Wow, would we ever?" We wondered what movie would be playing. Mother said:"The Matinee".

"Oh, fatastic! We would be going to see The Matinee, would we lucky?" We got bathed and all dressed up. It was like getting ready for a birthday party. We hurried outside the apartment, not wanting to miss the bus that would take us downtown. On the landing, Mom stunned us by saying, "Girls, we are not going to the movies today." We didn't hear her right.

"What?" we objected. "What do you mean? Aren't we going to The Matinee? Mommy, you said that we are going to the Matinee. " Mother stooped and gathered us in her arms. I couldn't understand why there were tears in her eyes. We still had the time to get the bus, but hugging us, she gently explained this is a fib felt like. "It is important that what we say is true ," Mom said. "I fibbed to you just now and it felt awful to me. I don't ever want to fib again and I'm sure you don't want to fib again either. People must be able to believe each others. Do you understand? "

We assured her that we understood. We would never forget. And since we had learned a lesson, why not go to the movie to see The Matinee. There were still time. Not today. Mother told us. We would go another time. That is how over fifty years ago, my sister and I learned to be truthful. We have never forgotten how much a fib can be hurt.

优秀散文范文(篇八)

Three Days to See

All of us have read thrilling stories in which the hero had only a limited and specified time to live. Sometimes it was as long as a year, sometimes as short as 24 hours. But always we were interested in discovering just how the doomed hero chose to spend his last days or his last hours. I speak, of course, of free men who have a choice, not condemned criminals whose sphere of activities is strictly delimited.

Such stories set us thinking, wondering what we should do under similar circumstances. What events, what experiences, what associations should we crowd into those last hours as mortal beings, what regrets?

Sometimes I have thought it would be an excellent rule to live each day as if we should die tomorrow. Such an attitude would emphasize sharply the values of life. We should live each day with gentleness, vigor and a keenness of appreciation which are often lost when time stretches before us in the constant panorama of more days and months and years to come. There are those, of course, who would adopt the Epicurean motto of “Eat, drink, and be merry”. But most people would be chastened by the certainty of impending death.

In stories the doomed hero is usually saved at the last minute by some stroke of fortune, but almost always his sense of values is changed. He becomes more appreciative of the meaning of life and its permanent spiritual values. It has often been noted that those who live, or have lived, in the shadow of death bring a mellow sweetness to everything they do.

Most of us, however, take life for granted. We know that one day we must die, but usually we picture that day as far in the future. When we are in buoyant health, death is all but unimaginable. We seldom think of it. The days stretch out in an endless vista. So we go about our petty tasks, hardly aware of our listless attitude toward life.

The same lethargy, I am afraid, characterizes the use of all our faculties and senses. Only the deaf appreciate hearing, only the blind realize the manifold blessings that lie in sight. Particularly does this observation apply to those who have lost sight and hearing in adult life. But those who have never suffered impairment of sight or hearing seldom make the fullest use of these blessed faculties. Their eyes and ears take in all sights and sounds hazily, without concentration and with little appreciation. It is the same old story of not being grateful for what we have until we lose it, of not being conscious of health until we are ill.

I have often thought it would be a blessing if each human being were stricken blind and deaf for a few days at some time during his early adult life. Darkness would make him more appreciative of sight; silence would teach him the joys of sound.

优秀散文范文(篇九)

A young man was getting ready to graduate from college. For many months he had admired a beautiful sports car in a dealers showroom, and knowing his father could well afford it, he told him that was all he wanted.

As Graduation Day approached, the young man awaited signs that his father had purchased the car. Finally, on the morning of his graduation, his father called him into his private study. His father told him how proud he was to have such a fine son, and told him how much he loved him. He handed his son a beautiful wrapped gift box. Curious, but somewhat disappointed, the young man opened the box and found a lovely, leather-bound Bible, with the young mans name embossed in gold.

Angrily, he raised his voice to his father and said, "With all your money you give me a Bible?" He then stormed out of the house, leaving the Bible.

Many years passed and the young man was very successful in business. He had a beautiful home and a wonderful family, but realizing his father was very old, he thought perhaps he should go to see him. He had not seen him since that graduation day. Before he could make the arrangements, he received a telegram telling him his father had passed away, and willed all of his possessions to his son. He needed to come home immediately and take care of things.

When he arrived at his fathers house, sudden sadness and regret filled his heart. He began to search through his fathers important papers and saw the still new Bible, just as he had left it years ago.

With tears, he opened the Bible and began to turn the pages. As he was reading, a car key dropped from the back of the Bible. It had a tag with the dealers name, the same dealer who had the sports car he had desired. On the tag was the date of his graduation, and the words… "PAID IN FULL"。

How many times do we miss blessings because they are not packaged as we expected? I trust you enjoyed this. Do not spoil what you have by desiring what you have not; but remember that what you now have was once among the things you only hoped for. Sometimes we dont realize the good fortune we have or we could have because we expect "the packaging" to be different. What may appear as bad fortune may in fact be the door that is just waiting to be opened.

优秀散文范文(篇十)

Relish the Moment.

Tucked away in our subconsciousness is an idyllic vision. We see ourselves on a long trip that spans the continent. We are traveling by train. Out the windows, we drink in the passing scene of cars on nearby highways, of children waving at a crossing, of cattle grazing on a distant hillside, of smoke pouring from a power plant, of row upon row of corn and wheat, of flatlands and valleys, of mountains and rolling hills, of city skylines and village halls.

But uppermost in our minds is the final destination. On a certain day at a certain hour, we will pull into the station. Bands will be playing and flags waving. Once we get there, so many wonderful dreams will come true and the pieces of our lives will fit together like a completed jigsaw puzzle. How restlessly we pace the aisles, damning the minutes for loitering - waiting,waiting, waiting for the station.

“When we reach the station, that will be it!” we cry. “When I’m 18.” “When I buy a new 450SL Mercedes Benz.” “When I put the last kid through college.” “When I have paid off the mortgage.” “When I get a promotion.” “When I reach the age of retirement, I shall live happily ever after!”

Sooner or later, we must realize that there is no station, no one place to arrive at once and for all. The true joy of life is the trip. The station is only a dream. It constantly out distances us.

“Relish the moment” is a good motto, especially when coupled with Psalm 118:24: “This is the day which the Lord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it.” It isn’t the burdens of today that drive men mad. It is the regret over yesterday and the fear of tomorrow. Regret and fear are twin thieves who rob us of today.

So stop pacing the aisles and counting the miles. Instead, climb more mountains, eat more icecream, go barefoot more often, swim more rivers, watch more sunset, laugh more and cry less. Life must be lived as we go along. Then the station will come soon enough.