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小时候,喜欢看天下雨,雨珠亮闪闪的,象透明的珠子一样,一个个撒落下来,溅起朵朵水花.这时候,我就傻乎乎地站在房檐下,静静的望着天空中垂落的水珠,母亲走过来,嗔怪着说道:“这傻丫头,咋这么迷水的?”一晃十几年过去了,我渐渐的长大了.但是那种对水特有的感情却是从来没有改变.父亲是个水利工人,几十年如一日的默默工作着.每当我看到父亲骑着自行车,背着火辣辣的烈日,满身泥土,在渠道边巡查的时候,我读到了水利人的默默无闻与艰辛,我想着父亲肯定在心里为这份不起眼的工作很苦恼,只是没法改变现状罢了.但是我看到父亲和他的同伴们干得很起劲,没有厌倦,没有懈怠,疲惫的脸上,常常现出自豪的神情.
As a child, like to watch the rain, the raindrops sparkling, like transparent beads, one by one, splashed with blossoming, at this time, I silly stood under the eaves, quietly looking at the sky Dangling drops of water, the mother came over, blame the strange said: “This silly girl, why so fascinated?” Flash over a dozen years later, I gradually grew up, but the kind of feeling unique to the water is never My father was a water conservancy worker working quietly for decades, and every time I saw my father rides a bike, carrying a hot sun, covered with soil, and inspected the channel, I read the waterman I think my father must be in my heart for this humble job is very distressed, but can not change the status quo, but I saw my father and his companions were very energetic, not tired, not slack, Tired face often shows a proud look.