父亲节的满分作文

父亲节的满分作文

　　父亲节快来到了，女儿给老师交了一篇作文，题为爸爸，这篇作文老师给了100分，学校老师把这篇作文传给她的妈妈，她妈妈又传给我，我看了以后，把它翻译出来，看看孩子17岁的心灵里是怎么看我这个爸爸的！我感到孩子长大了，她有着一颗敏感而聪慧的内心，做父母的言行，从小就会在孩子心灵刻上烙印，我们要用勇毅，坚强，奋斗来带动孩子，教会他们用博大的胸怀和眼光看待事物，他们其实比我们更聪明！

　　It’s been seventeen years, Baba.

　　It’s been seventeen years, but I still feel like we’re strangers at times.

　　Seventeen years, and I still feel like we might be oceans apart.

　　Years, and I am only now reflecting on who you are.

　　It’s been seventeen years, and I am only now learning about who I am, myself.

　　For the first year of my life,you were a cradle and a singsong voice. Your arms brought me up to the 7thfloor balcony of our apartment building in Shenzhen. Your hands gently patted my back with a reassuring rhythm. Your mouth hummed gentle tunes and blew warm air on my cheek. I can still smell the rain-washed, rusty railings of the balcony. It’s been seventeen years and I still associate the feeling of falling asleep with the feeling of your pleasant, petrichor-laced cotton shirt against my cheek.

　　For the first three years of mylife, you were a powerful, invincible force of being. You were the feeling of being thrown up into the nothingness of the sky, the feeling of my little thumping heart dropping down to my belly, the feeling of being caught just before a frantic wail escaped from my little terrified lungs. Your shoulders were like the strong branches of a tree, and I, settled upon them contentedly, was like the prized fruit they bore. Your magical hands produced colorful marbles and foil-wrapped candy. It’s been seventeen years and I still associate the feeling of childlike wonder with the crow’s feet creases of your eyes.

　　For the first eight years of my life,you were the man with a suitcase. You flew back and forth. You came and went,stayed and left. You were gifts from China. You were sweaters from Auntie,dolls from Hong Kong, and colorful crayons from the shops at the airport. You were the years upon years of thoughts and longings spoken from my mother’s lips;you were the single most exciting two weeks of each and every one of my childhood years. You were the silly broken English and the scary scoldings in Chinese. You were the forcibly memorized multiplication table and the tears of shame when my memory betrayed me. It’s been seventeen years and I still have a slight but very profound fear of algebraic expressions.

　　And then, you were the man of China. You transported me across land and sea and even more land. You were the man who hailed countless taxis, the man who spoke confidently and assuredly in Chinese and the man who carried three suitcases at once, while pulling meacross the skybridge at 3 am in the morning after our landing. You were the man with sweat running down his forehead while I had tears of homesickness runningdown my cheek. You were the man who taught me how to swear and bite, kick and punch, outlearn and outsmart all 49 of the Chinese students in my class. They, the overly brash third graders who tried to bully me, the new girl from Canada withthe braces, the foreign girl with the broken Chinese, all backed down as soon as I stood up. You told me simply: “Fight back”. It’s been seventeen years, andI still credit the toughest parts that exist within me to your words.

　　For the next ten years of my life, you faded into the background as I stepped into the foreground.

　　Your colorful polo shirts have been exchanged for grey, lint covered sweaters. The skin on your hands has become weather-worn and dry. Your crow’s feet creases have deepened and bags have formed under your eyes. Your words have become harsh and critical, and have often reduced me to tears and fits of rage.

　　But men are men; the best sometimes forget.

　　You have aged, and I have grown.You have taught, and I have known.

　　You taught me to strive, to seek,to find, and not to yield.

　　You are still the one who sparked within me a scintilla of understanding towards my cultural and personal identity. You are still the one who laid down another layer of meaning to my definition of “home”.

　　It’s been seventeen years, Baba.Seventeen years have gone by and only now do I understand you as a teacher, a father, a human being. Only now do I extract from you lessons on how to become a young and developing human being, myself.

　　It’s been seventeen years, Baba,and although oceans have always separated us and still continue to do so, family,culture and love still bind us together.

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