劳动后的收获作文_劳动的收获作文600字初中

劳动后的收获作文（一）

劳动是光荣的，正如古人说的一样："先苦后甜"。劳动越苦，收获就越多甜。

这是一个寒冷的冬天，我在家写作业。火炉里的温度变得异常低淡，大大的外套也不再能够提供温暖的庇护，冷风从窗户缝腺中钻进来，让我的心脏直打鼓，不禁感到身心为之发慌。

午夜十二点，我用两只冻得通红的小手去拿这笔笔。沙沙的声音写起来，仿佛在诉说着一个残酷的事实：残酷的寒风，谁也听不懂我的小心灵。

我停下来，向手哈了一口热气，然后持笔继续奋斗。明天就要考试了，心里只有那手发抖的感觉，我的身体也变得僵硬起来。

第二天，我拖着沉重的步伐走进考场，开始写试场作文。教室里安静得像死胡同，只有白板上的沙沙声。仿佛在诉说着蚕吞桑叶般壮士一去不复返的情景。心理波动却如同潮水一样，涨得人心咯噔，直喘一口气。

时间就在这眼前快速流逝了，我看试卷，发现已经写完了。悲伤地交卷了："事情已经过去了，再也不能挽回了。"我暗自对自己说：这份努力没有白费，劳动也没有白费，得到了回报，收获了成功。

第三天，天气不错。太阳公公没有露出来脸，天空如同我的脸色"乌云滚滚"。老师冷酷地走进教室，手里拿着那张试卷，带着我走向讲台。同学们眼含赞 augmented的目光，都为我鼓起掌来。我一身鸡皮疙瘩解放了，心里比喝瓶蜜还甜。我把脸埋入进去了，内心仿佛多了一缕清风。

我的辛苦没有白费，劳动也没有白费，得到了回报和成功。收获不可能从天而降，只有劳动的收获才最甜。

劳动后的收获作文（二）

劳动是光荣的，正如古人所言："先苦后甜"。劳动越苦，收获就越甜。

这个寒冷的冬天，在我身边发生的事情，让我在脑海中挥之不去的画面。 Inside my home, the warmth of the fire炉 is gone. The strength of the coat that I wore was also gone; cold air from outside flew in and out of the window. It made me feel like my heart was breaking, my body was breaking.

Sunlight poured down a stormy night as I walked around the room. The snow ground was falling as if it were alive, and the cold wind began to come through the windows. My hands trembled as I wrote on the paper. The pressure of writing seemed to be eating at my nerves, just like the cold air from outside is biting into my skin.

Midnight, the hour sign light was off. I used two fingers to try to hold down that pen. Sand and sand were written all around me. It felt like a stream was flowing into my chest. The cold wind couldn't understand my tiny heart's pain.

A few hours later, as I entered the exam hall, the scene before me changed. A quiet silence filled the room. Just沙沙地 writing. The cold air of the day passed quickly, and what remained was a sense of strength. My hands were still in the air while I pressed on. The pressure of writing seemed to be drawing my body into a state of rest.

By tomorrow morning, I had written half of the test paper. The paper was full of numbers, but it looked as though it had been hummed with sand. The cold wind had blown away the snow. It made me feel that I was becoming more and more aware of what was going on around me.

The morning of tomorrow arrived early for me. My body ached in the chair, my muscles were starting to tremble. The weight of writing felt like a heavy burden was being carried onto my chest. It didn't help that I wasn't fully awake. My mind was scattered into little fragments; I couldn't focus on anything. Writing seemed to be just a distraction for this empty chair.

At the end of the day, when the bell rang, I looked at my test paper. It had been completed, but it also had a faint smell that made my stomach churn. At the top corner of my page, there was a number written in red: 98. The students could see clearly what I wrote on their papers. They wrote in red too. Some were standing at an angle, others just lying down. But when they turned back to me, looking at the numbers I had typed, it felt like a miracle. That, that was mine.

When my test came out, the paper fell into the laps of those who found them. The students around me were smiling and cheering for me. Their faces lit up with the words on their papers. But they didn't care about what I had written; they just wanted to see what my writing looked like. They nodded in approval as they read the words that I typed. My heart beat, my muscles tensed, but it wasn't until midnight when I felt the weight of this paper pressing down on me.

That night, I settled for sleep. The cold air had passed through my body, and now I felt the warmth of my bed. The world around me seemed to be different that day. It was a time when I was only breathing in the breath of sleep. But my mind wasn't just a blank page; it was alive, and I could feel the weight of all those thoughts pressing down upon me.

The third day passed with ease. I walked around the room, writing as if something were falling on me from the ceiling. The cold air that had been so comforting before fell away like a gentle breeze, and it was replaced by a sense of peace. When my test paper was handed to the teacher, I looked at them and saw them with smiles in their eyes. They read all the words on mine, but they didn't know that what I had written was something else entirely. It wasn't just the words on the paper; it was the way I wrote them.

As midnight fell, a soft hum came from my chest. The cold air in the room had been gone for hours, and now only the soft hum of breathing remained. The world around me seemed to be changing, but that moment when I felt the weight of this paper pressing down on me was just a fleeting thought. For now, all that remained were the words on my test paper; they would have been enough to fill the room with emotion and celebration.

收获不可能从天而降，只有劳动的收获才最甜。

劳动后的收获作文（三）

劳动是光荣的，就像古人所说："先苦后甜"。劳动越苦，收获就越甜。

这是一次严寒的冬天，在我的身边发生了让我难忘的事情。Inside my home, the warmth of the fire炉 was gone. The strength of the coat I wore was also gone; cold air from outside flew in and out of the window. It made me feel like my heart was breaking, my body was breaking.

Midnight, the hour sign light was off. I used two fingers to hold down that pen. Sand and sand were written all around me. It seemed like a stream flowing into my chest, and what remained was a sense of strength. The cold wind couldn't understand my tiny heart's pain.

A few hours later, as I entered the exam hall, the scene before me changed. A quiet silence filled the room. Just sand and sand on the paper. It felt like a stream coming through my chest. The cold air had passed quickly, and what remained was a sense of strength. My hands were still in the air while I pressed on.

By tomorrow morning, I had written half of the test paper. The paper was full of numbers, but it looked as though it had been hummed with sand. It made me feel that I was becoming more and more aware of what was going on around me.

The morning of tomorrow arrived early for me. My body ached in the chair, my muscles were starting to tremble. The weight of writing felt like a heavy burden was being carried onto my chest. It didn't help that I wasn't fully awake. My mind was scattered into little fragments; I couldn't focus on anything. Writing seemed to be just a distraction for this empty chair.

At the end of the day, when the bell rang, I looked at my test paper. It had been completed, but it also had a faint smell that made my stomach churn. At the top corner of my page, there was a number written in red: 98. The students could see clearly what I wrote on their papers. They wrote in red too. Some were standing at an angle, others just lying down. But when they turned back to me, looking at the numbers I had typed, it felt like a miracle. That, that was mine.

When my test came out, the paper fell into the laps of those who found them. The students around me were smiling and cheering for me. Their faces lit up with the words on their papers. But they didn't care about what I had written; they just wanted to see what my writing looked like. They nodded in approval as they read the words that I typed. My heart beat, my muscles tensed, but it wasn't until midnight when I felt the weight of this paper pressing down on me.

That night, I settled for sleep. The cold air had been gone for hours, and now only the soft hum of breathing remained. The world around me seemed to be changing, but that moment when I felt the weight of this paper pressing down on me was just a fleeting thought. For now, all that remained were the words on my test paper; they would have been enough to fill the room with emotion and celebration.

收获不可能从天而降，只有劳动的收获才最甜。