来自中国各地的志愿者，聚集在世界上的一个角落——四川。5月13日的凌晨，在成灌高速上有一批志愿者驱车前往都江堰送饮用水，面包等救灾物品，成灌高速从来没有像今晚一样“热闹”数百辆出租车打着应急灯奔赴都江堰灾区，没有人命令他们，没有人要求他们，但他们舍弃了与亲人在一起的时间，冒着生命危险来到灾区进行救援。

在灾区，有一个这样一幅画面，一位救援人员在瓦砾废墟中攀行，他鼓励生者，高位死者。尽管瓦砾划伤手臂，尽管余震不断，他也没有停下坚毅的脚步。这就是中国的男儿，这就是中国的汉子！灾难压不完的脊梁，地震震不垮的斗志。

灾难无情，人间有情，爱是自然界第二个太阳，大爱无声。

无声的…作文篇2

风过无语，却在心里捎来了丝丝温暖;雨过无息，却在心中洒下了阵阵馨香，爱过无声，却在心头留下了涓涓牵挂……

初三生活是忙碌的。带着父母的期望，我在夜下挑灯苦读，虽然我也有累和疲惫的时候，但我不能轻言放弃。想想母亲在书桌上放的那杯热牛奶和离别时的轻声叮嘱；父亲每每拖着疲惫的身躯，仍悄悄倚在门前看我一眼后轻声而去的背影，我没有了任何放弃的理由。父母从不干预我的学习，并一直努力为我营造良好的学习环境。父母对子女拳拳的爱是静水流深的，犹如风过无语，时刻激励着我。

紧张的考试一天天逼近，当我奋笔疾书时，老师在身后默默支持；当我绞尽脑汁时，老师在批改堆积的作业；当我认真笔记时，老师在用粉笔写春秋。燃烧，是老师的信念与追求。他们尽力培养祖国的栋梁，并时刻牢记着要“静心教书，潜心育人”。老师对学生殷切的爱是安静的，犹如雨过无息，“润物无声”。

面对着如山的.习题，残酷的竞争，我心里又在打着退堂鼓，朋友看出来了我的松懈，她只留下一张纸条“立春过后，花儿终会开放，自己种下的辛苦之种终会生根发芽，他日何愁不能香远溢清，清曜天地？”我有了动力与同学们一起共同进步。朋友之间诚挚的爱是悄悄的。犹如叶落无声，抚慰着我的心。

爱不需要语言，它就像我们赖以生存的空气，又像一道永恒的光芒，更像一条河流，虽平平静静，却潺潺不止，永不停息……

无声的…作文篇3

前不久，我在电视里看到了这样一则感人的故事：有一个小女孩，她在一场大火中，全身70%的皮肤被烧伤了。经过抢救，小女孩虽然活下来了，但是全身的皮肤由于烧伤严重，很有可能因为感染而发生生命危险，需要做植皮手术。经过医生的化验，选定了母亲的皮肤。在手术前，她的母亲又因为打过麻醉会影响手术的成功，所以拒绝打麻醉。手术紧张地开始了，一片片鲜红的肉从母亲的腿上割了下来，几个小时后手术终于结束了，手术非常地成功，可她母亲的腿却被割地鲜血淋淋。

当我听到这个故事的时候，深深地被母爱的伟大所感动了。我情不自禁地想起了妈妈，虽然妈妈的爱没有这样的轰轰烈烈，但妈妈的爱却一直萦绕在我的身边。

记得有一次，阳光明媚，我背着书包正要上学去时，妈妈把我叫住了，说：“晨晨，来，快把衣服穿上。”我说：“不用了，外面天气好得很，等下要热死的。”妈妈说：“今天下午有大暴雨……”还没等妈妈说完，我一溜烟似地跑出了家门。

到了中午，突然，电闪雷鸣，风雨交加，气温骤然下降，我冷得直发抖。正在这时，妈妈出现了。我看到这时的妈妈满脸水珠，全身都快湿透了。她递给我一件衣服让我穿上后，又匆忙地冲进雨中赶去上班了，望着妈妈远去的背影，我差点哭了出来，我在心里暗暗地责怪自己：“要是早上我听妈妈的话，就不会害妈妈冒雨给我送衣服来了，妈妈也不会淋湿了。”

细细体会，生活中像这样的小事真的太多太多了，妈妈的爱就像温暖的阳光照耀着我，像绵绵细雨滋润着我……

无声的…作文篇4

my father was a self-taught mandolin player. he was one of the best string instrument players in our town. he could not read music, but if he heard a tune a few times, he could play it. when he was younger, he was a member of a small country music band. they would play at local dances and on a few occasions would play for the local radio station. he often told us how he had auditioned and earned a position in a band that featured patsy cline as their lead singer. he told the family that after he was hired he never went back. dad was a very religious man. he stated that there was a lot of drinking and cursing the day of his audition and he did not want to be around that type of environment.

occasionally, dad would get out his mandolin and play for the family. we three children: trisha, monte and i, george jr., would often sing along. songs such as the tennessee waltz, harbor lights and around christmas time, the well-known rendition of silver bells. "silver bells, silver bells, its christmas time in the city" would ring throughout the house. one of dads favorite hymns was "the old rugged cross". we learned the words to the hymn when we were very young, and would sing it with dad when he would play and sing. another song that was often shared in our house was a song that accompanied the walt disney series: davey crockett. dad only had to hear the song twice before he learned it well enough to play it. "davey, davey crockett, king of the wild frontier" was a favorite song for the family. he knew we enjoyed the song and the program and would often get out the mandolin after the program was over. i could never get over how he could play the songs so well after only hearing them a few times. i loved to sing, but i never learned how to play the mandolin. this is something i regret to this day.

dad loved to play the mandolin for his family he knew we enjoyed singing, and hearing him play. he was like that. if he could give pleasure to others, he would, especially his family. he was always there, sacrificing his time and efforts to see that his family had enough in their life. i had to mature into a man and have children of my own before i realized how much he had sacrificed.

i joined the united states air force in january of 1962. whenever i would come home on leave, i would ask dad to play the mandolin. nobody played the mandolin like my father. he could touch your soul with the tones that came out of that old mandolin. he seemed to shine when he was playing. you could see his pride in his ability to play so well for his family.

when dad was younger, he worked for his father on the farm. his father was a farmer and sharecropped a farm for the man who owned the property. in 1950, our family moved from the farm. dad had gained employment at the local limestone quarry. when the quarry closed in august of 1957, he had to seek other employment. he worked for owens yacht company in dundalk, maryland and for todd steel in point of rocks, maryland. while working at todd steel, he was involved in an accident. his job was to roll angle iron onto a conveyor so that the welders farther up the production line would have it to complete their job. on this particular day dad got the third index finger of his left hand mashed between two pieces of steel. the doctor who operated on the finger could not save it, and dad ended up having the tip of the finger amputated. he didnt lose enough of the finger where it would stop him picking up anything, but it did impact his ability to play the mandolin.

after the accident, dad was reluctant to play the mandolin. he felt that he could not play as well as he had before the accident. when i came home on leave and asked him to play he would make excuses for why he couldnt play. eventually, we would wear him down and he would say "okay, but remember, i cant hold down on the strings the way i used to" or "since the accident to this finger i cant play as good". for the family it didnt make any difference that dad couldnt play as well. we were just glad that he would play. when he played the old mandolin it would carry us back to a cheerful, happier time in our lives. "davey, davey crockett, king of the wild frontier", would again be heard in the little town of bakerton, west virginia.

in august of 1993 my father was diagnosed with inoperable lung cancer. he chose not to receive chemotherapy treatments so that he could live out the rest of his life in dignity. about a week before his death, we asked dad if he would play the mandolin for us. he made excuses but said "okay". he knew it would probably be the last time he would play for us. he tuned up the old mandolin and played a few notes. when i looked around, there was not a dry eye in the family. we saw before us a quiet humble man with an inner strength that comes from knowing god, and living with him in ones life. dad would never play the mandolin for us again. we felt at the time that he wouldnt have enough strength to play, and that makes the memory of that day even stronger. dad was doing something he had done all his life, giving. as sick as he was, he was still pleasing others. dad sure could play that mandolin!

无声的…作文篇5

夜，静！

轻纱似的浮云静静地飘过夜空．遮住了朦胧的月色．

父亲站了起来，微驼的背在月光下仿佛一轮弯弯的月亮，这些年，父亲为他付出了太多，而他能够回报的，仅仅是这一张大学的通知书．

父亲用那双充满慈爱的眼注视着他．那是一双多么温暖的眼睛啊，从小到大，这双眼睛曾激励过他多少次？父亲的眼里，永远是支持与信任．

＂走吧！＂父亲说，而后又陷入了沉默．

父亲提起他装满书的行李，带着他走进被月光笼罩的街道，默默无语．

＂爸，回去吧！＂我望着被月光撒满的父亲的脸庞说．

父亲不语，送他来到了公交车站，末班车顺着月光滑了过来，他上了车，接过父亲手中的行李．车门正在缓缓地关闭，月光随着门扉渐渐流出车外，他望着未被门扉遮住的父亲的半张脸，心中依依不舍．

突然，父亲向司机打了个手势，车门猛地缩了回去，父亲一跃上了车．

＂我送你去车站！＂父亲又说了一句．

＂可是－－＂

父亲摇摇头，他便不再说什么，父亲又接过了他的行李．

公交车在月光里穿梭，他望着父亲，父亲也望着他，彼此无语．

月光再一次随着门溢进了车内，洒在父亲的身上，一根根银发在父亲头上闪闪发光．

车站里只有寥寥无几的人，父亲把行李又交给了他，用那双充满温馨的眼再一次过视着他．

欲言又止．

车，进站了．父亲终于吐出了两句话：＂注意身体，与人和气．＂

＂嗯！＂

父亲拍了拍他的肩，他鼻子一酸，忙转过身，提着行李上了车．

车开走了，父亲仍然站在那里，月光依然洒在父亲的身上……

夜，还是那夜；月亮，还是那月亮；父爱无声，却穿破了恒宇……

无声的…作文篇6

一声关切的问候、一句温馨的祝福、一次跌倒后的搀扶、一次碰撞后的微笑……这此都是一种爱，在灾难来临后，这此爱幻化为了一种大爱，体现得淋漓尽致。

一个女孩

在5·12汶川地震中，虽说不幸，但是在那儿到处都充满了爱。当人们扒开一块块砖时，在瓦砾堆下，传来了一阵阵清脆的读书声，一个被压在废墟下的小女孩正在打着电筒看书，她说“：只要看着书，就不会害怕了”。她忘情地看着书、她忘记了饥饿、忘记了危险、忘记了疼痛，她用知识、用智慧与死神抗争，唤着生的希望。

看着镜头前，她那张镇定的脸和她对生的渴望，对知识的热爱，让所有人都为她而感动。在地下没有光明，但她的心中却充满了阳光，是书给了她勇气，给了她温暖，相信她曾经一定是一个出色的学生，从她的身上，折射出了灾区人民对生的向往，对生活的热爱，他们都是英雄，让我们向他们致敬。

一位老师

老师，曾给了我们多少欣慰、多少鼓励，把我们这此怀揣着梦想的学子送上人生的站台，目送着我们奔赴远方，他们熬尽心血，只为了他们心爱的学生。

在挖开一片废墟时，人们都震住了，绵竹市东汽中学老师潭千秋张开双辟，趴在桌子上。在他的身下护着四个学生，在危险来临之时，他用他并不宽大的身躯保护了用心的学生。潭老师，他用他的实际行动诠释了老师的含义，谱写了一首悲壮的赞歌，他伟大的牺牲精神感动了所有人，时间辗转，爱永恒。

一位慈善家

香港百岁老人邵逸夫，他是一位慈善家，要汶川地震后，他立即向灾区捐了一亿港币，他的这一亿港币是高贵的，虽然每个人的能力不尽相同，但贵在尽力而为。谁都不会忘记，邵逸夫先生为大陆内地的工作作出的重大贡献，到处都是逸夫楼，逸夫馆，他的爱国的赤子之心让我们感动，让我们感激。

每个人都会记得那首传唱多年的老歌“只要人人都献出一点爱，世界将变成美好的人间”，在05年春节晚会上，姜馨田曾说：“爱是我们共同的语言，让真情跨越疆域的重阳，飞入每个心灵深处，感动中国，情染世界。

爱是没有边际的，花落的声音秋知道，真爱的感觉只有我们的心知道。

无声的…作文篇7

母爱是无私伟大的，可父爱又何尝不是如此呢？父亲对我们的爱只不过是无声的，这种爱有时是严厉的，有时是愤怒的，但最多的是那份无言的关怀。

我曾经以为只有我的母亲对我最好，她没有批评过我，一直不停地鼓励我，她能满足我所有的愿望和要求。那天我无意中才发现，父亲也像母亲一样爱着我。只是他对我的爱，在我的认知里，不知怎么形容，是关爱？是大爱？不！我觉得他对我的爱准确的说应该是无声的关爱。

记得九岁那年，我被一块石头绊倒了，爸爸看见了，只是冷冷地说了一句：“快起来！”他没有说过一句安慰我的话，我便偷偷的瞄了一眼他，他还是像往常一样，眉头紧皱，板着个脸。我不禁有些心酸，几颗金豆豆不争气的掉了下来。到了晚上，我郁闷的躲在自己的房间，觉得此时就算天塌下来了我也不想出去。此时，隐隐约约的我听到了爸爸和奶奶的说话声，爸爸说：“明天给她上药就行。”奶奶语气缓慢的说：“放心吧。”虽然我爸爸的话语很生硬，有些急促，但我听到后感觉心里暖暖的，原来爸爸是关心我的！是爱我的！我的眼泪又一次流了下来，但味道是不同的！

通过这件事我觉得父爱如同母爱，一样滋润着我的心田。父亲给予我们的爱不比母亲给予我们的爱少一丝一毫，只是他们表达爱的方式不同。我们的成长过程中既需要母亲的鼓励，更需要父亲的批评，这“爱的小船”才不会使我偏离轨道，我才能在成长的道路上笔直前行。

无声的…作文篇8

朋友圈里，各种好友每逢假期来临时，便会晒出自己在各地游玩的美照，张张精美如画，加上滤镜，发上自拍，并配上“岁月静好，现世安稳”诸如此类语句，可能这些照片背后即是“拍照两分钟，修图五小时”的结果。这样方式的“晒幸福”，是否可以呢？

我并不认同这种肤浅的幸福，更不赞成“晒幸福”的目的是为了引起他人羡慕和赞美之声。这是人们追求夸耀和虚荣的本质体现，披上了看似幸福情景的华丽衣裳，伪作成幸福晒出，在“人云亦云，泛泛若水中之凫”时代里层出不穷。我们，应从喧嚣浮华的晒幸福的浪潮中跳出，去无声处觅幸福。

真正的幸福，来自于心灵的震动与觉醒。常言道：读万卷书，行万里路。那么幸福所在应是书中光怪陆离世界所带来的全新体验；或是让其在一路上跌跌撞撞走来惹上的尘埃中，洗涤旧迹，触及灵魂的.本质与深处。“路漫漫其修远兮，吾将上下而求索。”身在旅途，心更要在路上。路曼曼，“上下求索”的旅行不能为纯粹的拍图，用相机蒙蔽了自己的双眼，而是双脚下步步起航而又尘埃落定的踏实，是色彩斑斓画卷下积定下来的生命厚重。这样的幸福，不能转化为物质，更不能大肆宣扬和晒幸福。读书与旅行，也是在安静的灵魂下才焕发出真正的幸福。

幸福，不是用来晒的，而是我们一生中更应去寻求追觅的。新一届诺贝尔文学奖得主鲍勃·迪伦在得奖后无任何回应。大家都要期待着因跨界而引发的热闹嘉年华上演时，他在阿拉斯加的演出，深情又颇有深意的以一首《为什么是试图改变我》开场，一曲终了后，立即以一个沉默、不羁的背影留给观众，下台谢幕。“我不在这里。”在外人看来，获得全世界最高殊荣的文学水平奖已是莫大幸福之事，但他依旧沉默，因为他知道，也坚信，这不是幸福，是肤浅之幸福，是一个沉甸甸的包袱。对于鲍勃·迪伦而言，他不想晒幸福，他会继续在歌唱情怀和自由的世界里一直追寻下去。

幸福，也许已经失去了其本身的含义，成了得到虚荣赞美的快感的代名词。喧嚣吵闹更是为这个词添上世俗与尘埃的外衣。三毛有诗言，种桃种李种春风，春风无声，润万物而幸福。愿君心如松柏，向阳向高处去寻觅阳光幸福，滋养自己的灵魂，不再追求晒幸福的虚荣。

你若静静地盛开，幸福之清风自来。

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