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《一袋甜饼》读书笔记

发布时间:2023-11-28   来源:读书笔记    点击:   
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《一袋甜饼》读书笔记精选10篇

李镇西老师对学生的爱,是建立在真正民主基础之上的爱,不同于那种保姆式的爱,恨铁不成钢式的爱,或施恩式的爱。他对学生的爱是发自内心的,而更重要的是这份爱不是单向的灌输,而是双向的互动.以下是小编整理的《一袋甜饼》读书笔记精选10篇,仅供参考,大家一起来看看吧。

第1篇: 《一袋甜饼》读书笔记

as i sat perched in the second-floor window of our brick schoolhouse that afternoon, my heart began to sink further with each passing car. this was a day i"d looked forward to for weeks: miss pace"s fourth-grade, end-of-the-year party. miss pace had kept a running countdown on the blackboard all that week, and our class of nine-year-olds had bordered on insurrection by the time the much-anticipated ”party friday“ had arrived.

i had happily volunteered my mother when miss pace requested cookie volunteers. mom"s chocolate chips reigned supreme on our block, and i knew they"d be a hit with my classmates. but two o"clock passed, and there was no sign of her. most of the other mothers had already come and gone, dropping off their offerings of punch and crackers, chips, cupcakes and brownies. my mother was missing in action.

”don"t worry, robbie, she"ll be along soon,“ miss pace said as i gazed forlornly down at the street. i looked at the wall clock just in time to see its black minute hand shift to half-past.

around me, the noisy party raged on, but i wouldn"t budge from my window watch post. miss pace did her best to coax me away, but i stayed out, holding out hope that the familiar family car would round the corner, carrying my rightfully embarrassed mother with a tin of her famous cookies tucked under her arm.

the three o"clock bell soon jolted me from my thoughts and i dejectedly grabbed my book bag from my desk and shuffled out the door for home.

on the four-block walk to our house, i plotted my revenge. i would slam the front door upon entering, refuse to return her hug when she rushed over to me, and vow never to speak to her again.

the house was empty when i arrived and i looked for a note on the refrigerator that might explain my mother"s absence, but found none. my chin quivered with a mixture of heartbreak and rage. for the first time in my life, my mother had let me down.

i was lying face-down on my bed upstairs when i heard her come through the front door.

”robbie,“ she called out a bit urgently. ”where are you?“

i could then hear her darting frantically from room to room, wondering where i could be. i remained silent. in a moment, she mounted the steps—the sounds of her footsteps quickening as she ascended the staircase.

when she entered my room and sat beside me on my bed, i didn"t move but instead stared blankly into my pillow refusing to acknowledge her presence.

”i"m so sorry, honey,“ she said. ”i just forgot. i got busy and forgot—plain and simple.“

i still didn"t move. ”don"t forgive her,“ i told myself. ”she humiliated you. she forgot you. make her pay.“

then my mother did something completely unexpected. she began to laugh. i could feel her shudder as the laughter shook her. it began quietly at first and then increased in its velocity and volume.

i was incredulous. how could she laugh at a time like this? i rolled over and faced her, ready to let her see the rage and disappointment in my eyes.

but my mother wasn"t laughing at all. she was crying. ”i"m so sorry,“ she sobbed softly. ”i let you down. i let my little boy down.“

she sank down on the bed and began to weep like a little girl. i was dumbstruck. i had never seen my mother cry. to my understanding, mothers weren"t supposed to. i wondered if this was how i looked to her when i cried.

i desperately tried to recall her own soothing words from times past when i"d skinned knees or stubbed toes, times when she knew just the right thing to say. but in that moment of tearful plight, words of profundity abandoned me like a worn-out shoe.

”it"s okay, mom,“ i stammered as i reached out and gently stroked her hair. ”we didn"t even need those cookies. there was plenty of stuff to eat. don"t cry. it"s all right. really."

my words, as inadequate as they sounded to me, prompted my mother to sit up. she wiped her eyes, and a slight smile began to crease her tear-stained cheeks. i smiled back awkwardly, and she pulled me to her.

we didn"t say another word. we just held each other in a long, silent embrace. when we came to the point where i would usually pull away, i decided that, this time, i could hold on, perhaps, just a little bit longer.

第2篇: 《一袋甜饼》读书笔记

那天下午,我坐在学校二楼的窗沿上,看着一辆辆过往的汽车,心不断地往下沉。我们班的年终派对将在那天举行,我已经盼了好几个星期了。那个星期,老师还在黑板上弄了个倒计时牌。当这个“派对星期五”到来的时候,我们一班九岁大的孩子兴奋得炸开了锅。

As I sat perched in the second-floor window of our brick schoolhouse that afternoon, my heart began to sink further with each passing car. This was a day I"d looked forward to for weeks: Miss Pace"s fourth-grade, end-of-the-year party. Miss Pace had kept a running countdown on the blackboard all that week, and our class of nine-year-olds had bordered on insurrection by the time the much-anticipated “party Friday” had arrived.

I had happily volunteered my mother when Miss Pace requested cookie volunteers. Mom"s chocolate chips reigned supreme on our block, and I knew they"d be a hit with my classmates. But two o"clock passed, and there was no sign of her. Most of the other mothers had already come and gone, dropping off their offerings of punch and crackers, chips, cupcakes and brownies. My mother was missing in action.

“Don"t worry, Robbie, she"ll be along soon,” Miss Pace said as I gazed forlornly down at the street. I looked at the wall clock just in time to see its black minute hand shift to half-past.

Around me, the noisy party raged on, but I wouldn"t budge from my window watch post. Miss Pace did her best to coax me away, but I stayed out, holding out hope that the familiar family car would round the corner, carrying my rightfully embarrassed mother with a tin of her famous cookies tucked under her arm.

The three o"clock bell soon jolted me from my thoughts and I dejectedly grabbed my book bag from my desk and shuffled out the door for home.

On the four-block walk to our house, I plotted my revenge. I would slam the front door upon entering, refuse to return her hug when she rushed over to me, and vow never to speak to her again.

The house was empty when I arrived and I looked for a note on the refrigerator that might explain my mother"s absence, but found none. My chin quivered with a mixture of heartbreak and rage. For the first time in my life, my mother had let me down.

I was lying face-down on my bed upstairs when I heard her come through the front door.

“Robbie,” she called out a bit urgently. “Where are you?”

I could then hear her darting frantically from room to room, wondering where I could be. I remained silent. In a moment, she mounted the steps—the sounds of her footsteps quickening as she ascended the staircase.

When she entered my room and sat beside me on my bed, I didn"t move but instead stared blankly into my pillow refusing to acknowledge her presence.

“I"m so sorry, honey,” she said. “I just forgot. I got busy and forgot—plain and simple.”

I still didn"t move. “Don"t forgive her,” I told myself. “She humiliated you. She forgot you. Make her pay.”

Then my mother did something completely unexpected. She began to laugh. I could feel her shudder as the laughter shook her. It began quietly at first and then increased in its velocity and volume.

I was incredulous. How could she laugh at a time like this? I rolled over and faced her, ready to let her see the rage and disappointment in my eyes.

But my mother wasn"t laughing at all. She was crying. “I"m so sorry,” she sobbed softly. “I let you down. I let my little boy down.”

She sank down on the bed and began to weep like a little girl. I was dumbstruck. I had never seen my mother cry. To my understanding, mothers weren"t supposed to. I wondered if this was how I looked to her when I cried.

I desperately tried to recall her own soothing words from times past when I"d skinned knees or stubbed toes, times when she knew just the right thing to say. But in that moment of tearful plight, words of profundity abandoned me like a worn-out shoe.

“It"s okay, Mom,” I stammered as I reached out and gently stroked her hair. “We didn"t even need those cookies. There was plenty of stuff to eat. Don"t cry. It"s all right. Really."

My words, as inadequate as they sounded to me, prompted my mother to sit up. She wiped her eyes, and a slight smile began to crease her tear-stained cheeks. I smiled back awkwardly, and she pulled me to her.

We didn"t say another word. We just held each other in a long, silent embrace. When we came to the point where I would usually pull away, I decided that, this time, I could hold on, perhaps, just a little bit longer.

第3篇: 《一袋甜饼》读书笔记

《一袋甜饼》读书笔记

我读了一则叫做《一袋甜饼》的故事,我读完后很有感触。

有一天晚上,一名妇女来到候机室,准备等待飞机,她买了一本有趣的书和一袋甜饼,正当她津津有味地看着书,一位男人却走过来,做在了她的身边,让她意想不到的"是,这个人竟然一句话也不说,就吃起了自己的饼干,妇女原本想,他可能是吃错了,等会儿说不定会给我道歉呢,结果,这个男的并没有道歉,还越吃越大声,这名妇女终于忍受不了了,每当这个男的拿走一块饼干,她也拿一块饼干,就这样,最后只剩下一块饼干,这个人把饼干分成两半,一块给自己,一块给妇女,这名妇女觉得这个人挺有意思,可是,他连谢谢都没有说,这让妇女很生气,就在妇女坐上飞机时,在自己的包里,竟然发现了自己的饼干,她万万没有想到,原来自己才是厚颜无耻的“偷饼贼”。

我读完了这个故事,我觉得这两个人是很极端的人,一个是心胸宽广,一个却是心胸狭窄的人,总把矛头指向别人,我也领悟出了以个道理:要想和别人处理好关系,只能“严律以己,宽一待人”这才是关键。

第4篇: 《一袋甜饼》读书笔记

一袋花椒散文

小年一大早,接到范大哥的电话,说老家高大娘捎来一袋花椒,先行告知,或取或送,方便时随宜。

腊月二十六,有事路过范大哥处,匆匆小坐,顺便取那袋花椒。

花椒装在塑料袋中,大概一斤多点。范大哥说他那天回村开会,高大娘硬是丢给他,并且叮嘱他年前一定给我们捎到。

手提着这花椒袋,虽然它很轻很轻,但在心里感觉好沉好沉……

我小时候在村里的时候,虽然我们两家只隔着一个院子,不过那时高大伯还健在,一般抛头露面的是高大伯,所以对高大娘的印象不是很深。后来,由于她家批新窑是修到村北接近角落的地方,我们好像就更很少见面了。再后来,我也不经常回村里,连涉及到她的话也很少听到了。

1月20日,这天是大寒节气,侄儿晓宇发了一条微信,是县电视台的《民生直播间》栏目报道了我村八旬老人杨桂花,她用自己老弱病的身体为子孙们洗衣做饭,依然支撑着一个苦难贫困的家,她的感人事迹一时传遍了全县十里八乡,无不让人肃然起敬。

如果不是这篇报道,我恐怕就不知道高大娘姓杨名桂花,如果不是这篇报道,我也恐怕不会主动地想起这位老大娘,这个穷困羸弱、急需帮扶的家庭。

20多年前,高大伯因病去世了。多年来,高大娘一直与二儿子、三儿子一家及小女儿生活在一起,并且一直照料着他们。二儿子因病瘫痪在家十多年前年去世了,他的妻子患有精神病一级残疾,两个孩子还小。三儿子没上过学,只能在村里干点简单活;小女儿则患有严重智障,为一级残疾。她自己又患有糖尿病、轻度脑梗。一个八十岁的老人,不要说不能颐养天年,还得照料一个个残疾子孙,一个病人,不要说没钱看病,还得想方设法维持一大家的日常生活。而这两项,都集中压到了高大娘一人身上,可想而知,这是何等的艰难与坚强!

中午,和范大哥、东升一起吃饭时,提起这家人的境况,都为高大娘的坚毅不屈精神所感动,就商定本周六一同回去接济接济高大娘。

周六是24号,腊月十五,天气异常寒冷,气温预报零下23℃,可以说是这个冬天最冷的.一天,加之前天刚下过雪,路上车人很少。范大哥特地叫了辆车,我们带上准备好的救济物品,如约而行。

回到村里,只见高大娘家巷外大路上已经排了好几辆车了。

对于高大娘家的特殊境况,村干部也在积极想办法为其办理低保、申请民政补贴等。挂职干部第一书记候改改更是看在眼里、急在心里。她与团县委取得联系,组织开展对高大娘家的爱心救助活动,今天恰好是团县委带领爱心人士再次对高大娘家进行捐赠和慰问。

屋子里挤满了从城里来的献爱心的朋友。我们走进昏黑狭窄的屋子里后,把物品和每人捐的200元钱递给高大娘,大娘连声道谢。除不认识司机林喜外,大娘还能一一叫起我们的乳名,“连累俺孩们了,俺孩们也不宽余啊!”

还有不少同志,因工作脱不开身,托人将爱心捎了来,兴国的就是东升捎回来的。

这花椒,就是高大娘给所有帮助她的人开出的一张纯朴的支票啊!

我和范大哥、东升聊的时候,都觉得大娘虽然年事已高,但心事挺重,但让我们感到她从骨子里喷发出的那种刚毅。高大娘二儿子的大女儿高丽红,14岁了,在乡办中学读初一,学习还不错,挺懂事,每天回家来,常常帮着奶奶干些家务。我想,这花椒可能得花这祖孙俩好几天的时间才能摘到的,怎么好意思吃八十岁的老大娘和十四岁的小姑娘采摘的花椒?可是,怎么又能忍心拒绝大娘这份真心的情意?

如今,全县上下正在致力于推进“大美古城,小康平遥”的建设,高大娘家目前的物质生活离小康水平相差得还太远了。但从这袋情意浓浓 的花椒里,我分明闻到了她自强自立、你扶我立的浓郁气息。有了这样坚毅不屈的精神,加之有这么多社会爱心人士的倾心帮助,相信高大娘家的日子会一天比一天好起来!

第5篇: 《一袋甜饼》读书笔记

我曾读过一个长征故事,叫《一袋干粮》。故事中的主人公叫小兰。她十三岁,黄黄的小脸,一双大眼睛,两片薄嘴唇,微微翘起的鼻子。她却着无私奉献的精神。

有一次,小兰跟随部队前进时,好不容易得到一袋干粮,可过桥时为了照顾伤员,忘记了自己的干粮,等她反应过来,自已的那袋干粮已经不翼而飞了。为了不让大家把粮食分给自己,她没告诉战友们;她为了让自己不露陷,就拔了许多野菜塞入挎包;为了让自己有力气长征,她每天都吃野菜……日子一天天过去了,小兰的身体也快不行了,幸亏护士长及时发现,还帮她治疗。护士长无意间发现了小兰吃野菜和挎包中的“干粮”的秘密后,便告诉了大伙儿,大伙儿才知道了事情真相。于是大伙儿都把干粮分给小兰,让她体会到家的温暖。

读了这个故事后,我深深地感受到了红军战士们的优秀品质――不怕苦、顽强不屈、乐于助人、无私奉献、舍已为人……我也非常感动,一个十三岁的小女孩,居然有着钢铁般的毅志力。我真敬佩红军身上那钢铁般的毅志力。

第6篇: 《一袋甜饼》读书笔记

长征是一首悲壮的诗歌,是一段艰难历史,是一个个感人的事迹。那是一段艰辛的历史,我们无法忘却.我们在得知那一段段可歌可泣的故事,是否会被感动?去情不自禁地赞叹他们呢?

有这样一个女孩子,她们13岁,为了救一名受伤的士兵,把自己的救命粮食给弄丢,为了让大伙儿的粮食不紧缺,她把挎包弄得鼓鼓的,装成里面像放了食物一样,自己也像没事的样子.不久,她身体实在不行了,饿得说话的力气也没有,晕倒了,护士长发现她是饿晕的,于是打开她的包,里面除了一堆草,什么也没有.大家这才知道相,一时大家被她这种不愿意给别人带来不便的事给感动了,一个个默默的把自己的干粮拿出来分了一部份给她。

故事虽然小,比这伟大的事还好多好多,但内涵却不小,她让我们看到了她的无私,热心,坚强。其时,在她没有粮食之时,她便可以说出来,要求再给一些,但她没有,在对那些有伤在身的士兵时,她也可以选择视而不见,不用拖着饥饿的身体照顾他们。这些优秀的品质,同为13岁的你我,做到了吗?在我们身边,是不是有这样的人呢?在他们没带文具时,把自己的给别人用,手工课上,材料分给没有人的一起做;在劳动时,主动去帮忙,这就是热心,你只需要付出一点点,就可以收获一份真心,养成一份好品质。

第7篇: 《一袋甜饼》读书笔记

甜饼小人的童话故事

童话故事主要是写给孩子的,不过,有童心的成年人同样能够在童话故事中找到快乐,让心灵纯净。

《甜饼小人》

从前有个老婆婆,她特别喜欢烤甜饼。她烤焙甜饼曲奇、蛋糕、小房子和甜饼小人,配上薄荷油、焦糖蜜饯和彩色砂糖,别提多好吃了。

老婆婆和老头子住在城郊一座农场里。甜饼浓香的气味引得孩子们争先恐后又跑又跳地去看今天老婆婆又准备了什么好吃的东西。

扫兴的是,孩子们像风卷残云一样狼吞虎咽,食物很快就被吃完了,老婆婆想再烤一炉甜饼,可面粉和调料都很难供应得上了。老婆婆有时疑心孩子们把手伸进了橱窗偷吃,因为甜饼和曲奇常常莫名其妙地就不见了。有一次一整个的甜饼小屋都神秘地失踪了。她对老头子说:“这些淘气包又来了。他们不懂得他们该做的就是敲门进来然后享用我为他们准备的小甜饼就够了。”

一天她做了一炉子特别的甜饼小人儿,因为小人都是出了号儿的大。扫兴的是做到最后一个甜饼小人时面团不怎么够用了,所以他只有其他小人的一半大。

老婆婆认真地打扮着甜饼小人,一个个都穿上颜色各异的袜子、衬衫和裤子。轮到那个甜饼小小人时,老婆婆因心怀歉疚于是给他加了比其他小人更多的颜料。“他小,但没关系。”老婆婆想,“他照样好吃。”

将一担烤好的食品放到厨房窗台上,老婆婆感到有点凉,就洗衣服去了。甜饼小人静静地躺着,他们朦胧的眼睛盯着布满朵朵浓云的天空。

此时,不知从哪儿传来了一个声音:“起来,站起来。跟我走。”

甜饼小人全都去看说话的是谁。

那是一只刚好飞经窗外的蝴蝶。蝴蝶自然是美丽的,这只蝴蝶蓝得晶莹的翅膀更是出奇的漂亮。

“跟我一起走吧。”蝴蝶又开始催了。

甜饼小人们盯着蝴蝶看,没人回答,只有那个最小的甜饼小人从盘子里站起来跳下厨房的窗台落脚在下面的草地上,快得用迅雷不及掩耳都不足以形容。

“你要去哪儿啊?”他跑得上气不接下气的。

“走……”还没等蝴蝶说完话,一群孩子出现在院子里。一发现甜饼小人,他们就兴高采烈地高呼着朝小人追赶过来。

“停,停下,”孩子们大喊,“我们想吃掉你。”

甜饼小人那双小腿儿倒当得更快了,他喊道:

“我才不停呢

放马追我吧

想抓我没门

我是甜饼小人。”

确实,那些孩子还真抓不到他。直到从孩子们视线消失后,他还坚持跑到了一座牧场,那里有两匹马在吃草。他在一座篱笆边的石头上坐下身来。

“别停下来。”身旁的蝴蝶边扇动翅膀边说。

“我想休息会儿。”甜饼小人不服。

在其中一匹马快步跑到篱笆边嘶鸣的时候就注定甜饼小人想要休息是个错误。“啊!甜饼小人,你闻起来好香呀。到这儿来,让我好好闻闻。”马儿嘶叫着说。

甜饼小人摇头拒绝,可马儿却突然跨过篱笆,撒开腿赶了过来,于是甜饼小人跑得更快了,他边跑边叫喊着:

“我逃过了小孩子,我也会逃过你

放马过来吧

想抓我没门

我是甜饼小人。”

确实,马没能追上甜饼小人。

这次他找了个离路边挺远的草丛小心翼翼地躺了下来,在那里谁也不会看到他。

“谁都想吃我。”他向蝴蝶吐苦水,“你也想吃我吗?”

蝴蝶小姐呵呵笑了:“我喜欢甜饼的味道,比花香好闻多了,可我只采花蜜,不吃甜饼。而且,你我是朋友,朋友是不会吃朋友的。”

听到自己拥有朋友,甜饼小人可开心了,他想说点什么,但又被打断了。农民家的一只狗鼻子特灵,嗅着就过来了。看到甜饼小人,狗舔了舔鼻子,说:

“抱歉,打断你们说话了,不过甜饼小人啊,你太好看了。我的.意思是我累了,请稍等,休息会儿也行。“

狗一边说着,一边步步靠近。他越往前凑,甜饼小人就越慌张。藏身在草丛里的蝴蝶一下子飞了出来,向他发出警告,甜饼小人马上拔腿就跑,小脚后跟还伴随着狗咬的声音。他大喊着:

“我逃过了小孩子,我逃过了马,

我也会逃过你。

放马过来吧。

想抓我没门,

我是甜饼小人。”

确实,狗没能抓到他。

最后,甜饼小人和蝴蝶来到一条小溪旁。

没当过甜饼小人的人无法体会那条小溪到底有多大,对他而言,那是条宽广的大河。不远处的矮树丛里有一只红狐狸在溜达,他停下来伸了伸懒腰。他打盹着,刚醒不久。见到甜饼小人红狐狸漠不关心地说:“要我帮忙吗?”

“不,谢谢。我们要飞过这条小溪。我们不需要你帮忙。” 蝴蝶的反应十分灵敏。

老奸巨猾的狐狸瞥了一眼蝴蝶,哈哈大笑,然后冲着甜饼小人说:“您想把他背过去?蝴蝶小姐您的好意,我一点疑问都没有,但您不过就是个小虫子。不管什么东西,你都搬不动,你会寸步难行,只能看着小溪对岸的甜饼小人孤单无助。你会让他掉进小溪的,我敢保证。

甜饼小人不知如何是好了。他清楚他这位蝴蝶朋友心怀好意,但她真的背得动他吗?他不确定。她的翅膀又薄又纤弱得很。一想到跌入冰冷的水中粉身碎骨都被湿透他就不寒而栗。他跟狐狸说:“我逃过了小孩子,我逃过了马儿,我逃过了狗。你能保证我安全不吃我吗?”

“当然啦!”还没等蝴蝶开口反对,狡猾的狐狸立即向甜饼小人打保票,“我只吃肉,刚才小憩前我就吃得饱饱的了。来,坐上我蓬松的大尾巴。在我还没改变主意之前咱们走吧。”

于是,甜饼小人爬上狐狸的尾巴,他们一起下了水。

非常不幸,狐狸尾巴开始往水里沉了。“你太沉,我的尾巴承受不住了,爬到我后背上来吧。”狐狸对甜饼小人说。

甜饼小人按狐狸说的做了。

然而,溪水迅速涨到狐狸的背部,迫使甜饼小人不由自主地向上爬到了狐狸的脖子。“这样恐怕还是不行,”满腹诡计的狐狸说,“到我头上来吧。”

当时的甜饼小人吓坏了,可他又能如何呢?他顺从地爬上了狐狸的耳朵。

“啊呀,甜饼小人,你得爬到我鼻子上来,”狡猾的狐狸再三要求甜饼小人这么做,“除此而外,我救不了你啦。你没看到溪水在不停上涨吗?”

于是,甜饼小人不得已爬上了狐狸的鼻子。他才刚刚落脚,奸诈的狐狸就一下子把他甩上了天,大张开嘴,等着天上掉甜饼。甜饼小人吓得圆睁双眼,因为他明白他即将成为狐狸的腹中之物。这个时候他再能跑也无济于事了。

甜饼小人和狐狸都忽略了蝴蝶的存在。她猛冲进狐狸的嘴中,用一条腿抓住她的朋友,将甜饼小人救了出来,否则甜饼小人的命运可就不堪设想了。她越飞越高,小溪和狐狸都成了大地上的小点点。

第8篇: 《一袋甜饼》读书笔记

一个清晨,天还未亮,渔夫就来到河边准备撒网,在岸边他感觉到有什么东西在他的脚下,一摸是一小袋的石头。他捡起袋子,将渔网放在一旁,坐在岸边等待日出。

他在等待黎明,以便开始一天的工作,他懒洋洋地从袋子里拿出一块石头丢进水里,然后又把一块石头丢进水里。因为没有其他事可做,他继续把石头一块一块地丢进水里。

慢慢地,太阳升起,大地重现光明。这时除了手里最后一块石头之外其他的石头都已经丢光了。当他藉着白天的光,终于看清自己手中所拿的东西时,他的心跳几乎停止,那是一颗宝石!在黑暗中,他竟然把整袋的宝石都丢光了!

在不知不觉当中,他的损失有多少?他充满懊悔,咒骂自己,伤心地哭了起来。

他在无意间获得的,财富足以改变他的生活,然而在不知不觉当中,在黑暗中,他又把它们丢掉了。

励志感悟:

上天对我们每个人都是很公平的,他会给每个人机会,但是就看你把这个机会当作是“宝石”还是“石子。”

第9篇: 《一袋甜饼》读书笔记

森林里住着一只勤劳的小猪和一个狡猾的狐狸。

小猪可勤快了,他开了一家甜饼店,他做的甜饼在方圆百里内是最有名的了。所以,她的甜饼生意十分红火。狐狸好吃懒做,他对小猪的甜饼早已垂涎三尺。

有一天晚上,狐狸终于忍不住了。它想去偷!狐狸到了小猪家,拿出秘密武器万能钥匙,“卡”一声“织”门开了只见小猪还在打呼噜呢!狐狸蹑手蹑脚,很快就找到一个有甜饼香味的大袋子,拿着就悄悄地离开了。第二天,小猪醒来,肚子饿的咕噜咕噜,它想去拿甜饼,可是没了,小猪发现有狐狸的脚印,但是证据不足。

这回小猪找鸡大婶借来鸡蛋,向羊伯伯借来大头针,向牛哥哥借来西瓜皮,又向仙鹤姐姐借来渔网,还借了胶水。然后设好机关。这天晚上,小猪睡着后,狐狸又来小猪家偷吃甜饼了。之所以甜饼又被狐狸吃光了,是因为小猪没关窗子。

第三天晚上,小猪决定不睡了,要捉狐狸个现形。黑夜之中,狐狸又偷偷摸摸地从烟囱里爬进小猪家。它先被烟囱壁内的胶水粘住,费了九牛二虎的力气才逃脱,掉下来被地板上铺地毛刺给刺的嗷嗷叫,刚进厨房门时,没想到被鸡蛋滑了一下,又被西瓜皮摔个狗吃屎,终于被小猪用渔网逮捕了。

小猪把狐狸交给狗警官后,小猪高兴的又蹦又跳!因为小猪终于铲除了“黑夜窃贼”!

第10篇: 《一袋甜饼》读书笔记

一袋雪糕作文

在人的一生中一定做过许多助人为乐的"小事:给老人让坐,帮助老人过马路……在我的小的时候,就碰到了一位好心人,在我遇到困难时,是他给予了我一份爱心。

那天,天气很是闷热,小狗趴在树阴下吐着舌头,好像要把热气吐出来。知了在树枝上“知了!知了”的叫着,让人听了很烦。在太阳照射的人行道上,人们东躲西藏的想避开太阳,像是和太阳在玩躲猫猫的游戏。在这时,谁不想吃上一根冰凉可口的雪糕呢?

这不,今天中午懒惰的爸爸走过来,给我书桌上放了20元钱,示意让我去路边的小卖部去买雪糕,大热天的谁想出去。不过,买雪糕我倒可以去。

我骑着自行车,飞快的来到小卖部,买完雪糕就往回走,但在路上出事了。我一手拿雪糕,一手控制方向,因为路面有坑,我一不小心摔倒在地,装雪糕的袋子破了个大洞,雪糕撒了一地,自行车压在我的身上。因为夏天穿的衣服很薄,所以我的胳膊、腿上都擦伤了,我疼的大哭起来。

这时,路过的一位大叔看见了,马上跑过来把自行车搬走,拿出纸给我的胳膊止血。我当时心里感到非常温暖,血止住了,大叔又把雪糕拣起来,背上我,托着自行车把我往家送。我看到大叔头上直流汗,就说:“叔叔,请您把我放下,看您累的。”大叔却说:“我不累,你的腿擦伤了,走路一定会很疼的。”在太阳下,大叔背着我一直送到家,当爸爸妈妈看见我受伤又是被大叔送回家时,感动的要把大叔请到家里坐,大叔却说:“这是我应该做的,我也不能眼看着孩子在那里流着血大哭着吧!”爸爸妈妈感谢过大叔之后,大叔就走了。

大叔,我虽然不认识您,但您的那颗金子般的心,我永远不会忘记。您留在我心底的温暖我将永远铭记在心。

本文来源:https://www.czhuihao.cn/wendang/247201/

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