柳丝轻拂是对春天的承诺（精选五篇）

第一篇：柳丝轻拂是对春天的承诺

柳丝轻拂是对春天的承诺；烈日当空是对夏日的承诺；落叶飘飞是对金秋的承诺；银装素裹是对严冬的承诺。

孔子有云；“人而无信，不知其可。”面对匆匆易逝的生命，信守生活中的一个又一个承诺，人生将因此而光辉灿烂，耀眼夺目！奋斗不息，是对人生的承诺。

信守承诺是对心灵的洗礼；信守承诺是对人格的升华；信守承诺是对品质的砥砺；信守承诺是对祖国的忠诚；信守你的承诺，无论这个承诺或大或小,或轻或重,或易或难.生命将在你的一个个承诺后闪烁灿烂夺目的光芒！

同学们，新的学期，我们应该凭着坚强的毅力去创造，去开拓，敢于斩断前进路上的荆棘、敢于战胜一切挫折。闯进急流旋涡，才有可能欣赏到最美的风景。完成自己对父母和老师的承诺！抬起头，超越自我，阳光灿烂。迈开步，大道宽广去兑现你的承诺。

在新学期，让我们放飞追梦的神驹，点燃希望的梦想，撑起远航的风帆，驶向成功的彼岸。为信守添上靓丽的一点，谢谢大家！

第二篇：什么是承诺

什么是承诺

什么是承诺？有人认为“海誓山盟”就是承诺，也有人认为“约法三章”才叫承诺，可见不同的人对承诺有着不同的理解。从很小的时候开始，就知道了“承诺”是件很严肃的事，虽然说不清楚“承诺”到底是什么？但却可以感受到“承诺”这个词的份量很重很重，也就是因为如此，我不敢向别人做什么承诺，也害怕别人给我承诺，因为一旦别人给我的承诺无法兑现，我该如何面对？如果我给别人的承诺兑现不了，我又该如何面对呢？这一直是我的一个困扰。一天一个偶然的机会，我读了一本书，书中对“承诺”的理解令我有了耳目一新的感觉，也让我彻底摆脱了“承诺”对我的困扰，让我明白了什么才是真正的“承诺”。

真正的承诺是针对自己的。我发现很多的来访者都或多或少的会有这方面的困扰，比如热恋中的一对恋人，彼此承诺会爱对方一辈子，但当其中一方爱上了别人选择离开的时候，另一方的感觉便是“你骗了我，你当初对我的承诺呢？你不是说过要爱我一辈子的吗？”又比如迈入婚姻的夫妻，随着相处时间的增加，发现了彼此之间太多的不同，于是双方甚至希望以“合同的方式”承诺彼此必须做或是绝不可以做的事，他们认为这样做就可以很好地解决他们之间的问题了，可这样做的结果却常常是吵得天翻地覆，一塌糊涂。由此可见对别人做承诺是会带来一些问题的。

最后让我们来看看针对自己的承诺吧，针对自己的承诺是与对方无关的，我们在实践我们自己的承诺的过程中，对方是完全自由的，可以做任何选择的，这样的承诺可以让我们摆脱犹豫，自身充满了行动的力量，并且用自身的意志解决过程中遇到的各种问题，这种力量也将成为我们自身成长的源动力。这样热恋中的恋人针对自己的承诺就变成了我会用心地去了解你，也会给你足够的时间来了解我；迈入婚姻的发现彼此有太多不同的夫妻针对自己的承诺就变成了我会面对我们之间的问题，处理我们之间的冲突。

在我们的很多咨询中，咨询师会像镜子一样让来访者清楚地看到自己，看到生活中的一些困扰是与我们自身的很多固有想法相关的，帮助来访者用自己的力量去打开更多的门，看到更广阔的世界，享受更快乐的生活！

第三篇：《承诺是金》

《承诺是金》

【教案背景】

1．面向中学生

2．学科：思想品德

3．课时：1课时

4．学生课前准备：

（1）、学生搜集一些有关承诺的俗语、成语或名言警句。

（2）、学生进行小品情境表演编排和演练。

5．教师课前准备：

（1）、教学之前在网上搜索相关教学材料，找了很多教案作参考，了解到教学的重点和难点，确定课堂教学形式和方法。

（2)、根据课堂教学需要，制作多媒体课件，给学生直观上的感受，引发学生学习的积极性和探索欲望。

【教学内容】

苏教版八年级思想品德第9课第二框《承诺是金》

【教学目标】

知识目标：通过生活中的事例，懂得“对人守信，对事负责”，感

受信守承诺是十分重要的。

能力目标：解读生活中失信的危害，增强自己的比较分析能力和明

辨是非的能力，践约守信，诚实做人。

情感、态度和价值观目标：增强对他人对社会的责任感，树立诚实

信用的为人处世态度和守信为荣，失信可耻的道德观念。

【教材分析】

《承诺是金》是苏人版八年级思想品德上册第九课第二框的内容，它主要是以承诺为话题，对道德、法律等方面的内容进行有机整合。并根据所学内容进一步引导学生知道在我们现代这样的诚信社会中应该如何做人，即学会承诺，做一个诚实守信的人，懂得“承诺是金”的道理。这将对青少年形成良好的思想道德观念，养成良好的道德习惯有着重要的现实意义。

【教学设计意图】

本节课要注重充分发挥学生的主体作用。在教学过程中，主要通过生活中的事例让学生体会，并结合学生自身的生活实际，关注学生的实际体会，注重培养学生诚实守信的行为习惯。本节课通过情景再现、小品表演、问题讨论等方式来培养学生分析、解决问题的能力，促使学生养成信守承诺的良好道德品质，并深刻体会承诺的重要性。

【教学重点】

解读生活中失诺的危害。

【教学难点】

引导学生认识并分析承诺的重要性，做一个信守承诺的人。

【教学方法】

情境体验法、小品表演法、续编故事法、小组合作探究法。

【教学准备】

1、课前让学生搜集一些有关承诺的俗语、成语或名言警句。

2、课前组织学生进行小品情境表演演练。

3、制作多媒体课件。

【板书设计】

1、信守承诺是我国人民的传统美德。

2、既然作出了承诺，就要兑现承诺。

3、信守承诺会获得回报。

【教学反思】

通过对《承诺是金》这一课进行全面反思后，本课教学基本达到教学过程中预先设计的三维教学目标。一堂课成功的导入很重要，首先是以故事导入激发学生学习兴趣，引人入胜。知识大比拼这一环节，把学生的兴趣又推进一步，并开阔了学生知识的海洋，尽情发挥所长。在老师的指导下，把书本知识，现实问题寓于滑稽的小品中，学生抽时间，挤时间去编、演，在演练中修改，充实内容。这个过程既提高了学生的创作与欣赏能力，也给大家带来了乐趣，是一种快乐的学习方式，在这种快乐中体现合作精神。最后又让学生续编故事，把学生的学习兴趣推向高潮，积极地参与到课堂中来，每一环节给学生带来的不仅仅是对知识的掌握和提升，更重要的是学生思想情感的升华，内心深处真正理解承诺给人们带来的实际意义。

第四篇：春天的承诺 示范作文

A Promise of Spring

Early in the spring，about a month before my grandpa's stroke，I began walking for an hour every afternoon.Some days I would walk four blocks south to see Grandma and Grandpa.At eighty-six，Grandpa was still quite a gardener，so I always watched for his earliest blooms and each new wave of spring flowers.I was especially interested in flowers that year because I was planning to landscape my own yard and I was eager to get Grandpa's advice.I thought I knew pretty much what I wanted — a yard full of bushes and plants that would bloom from May till November.It was right after the first rush of purple violets in the lawns and the sudden blaze of forsythia that spring that Grandpa had a stroke.It left him without speech and with no movement on his left side.The whole family rallied to Grandpa.We all spent many hours by his side.Some days his eyes were eloquent — laughing at our reported mishaps，listening alertly，revealing painful awareness of his inability to care for himself.There were days，too，when he slept most of the time，overcome with the weight of his approaching death.As the months passed，I watched the growing earth with Grandpa's eyes.Each time I was with him，I gave him a garden report.He listened，gripping my hand with the sure strength and calm he had always had.But he could not answer my questions.The new flowers would blaze，peak，fade，and die before I knew their names.Grandpa's illness held him through the spring and on，week by week，through summer.I began spending hours at the local nursery，studying and choosing seeds and plants.It gave me special joy to buy plants I had seen in Grandpa's garden and give them humble starts in my own garden.I discovered Sweet William，which I had admired for years in Grandpa's garden without knowing its name.And I planted it in his honor.As I waited and watched in the garden and by Grandpa's side，some quiet truths emerged.I realized that Grandpa loved flowers that were always bloom； he kept a full bed of roses in his garden.But I noticed that Grandpa left plenty of room for the brief highlights.Not every nook of his garden was constantly in bloom.There was always a treasured surprise tucked somewhere.I came to see，too，that Grandpa's garden mirrored his life.He was a hard worker who understood the law of the harvest.But along with his hard work，Grandpa knew how to enjoy each season，each change.We often teased him about his life history.He had written two paragraphs summarizing fifty years of work，and a full nine pages about every trip and vacation he'd ever taken.In July，Grandpa worsened.One hot afternoon arrived when no one else was at his bedside.He was glad to have me there，and reached out his hand to pull me close.I told Grandpa what I had learned — that few flowers last from April to November.Some of the most beautiful bloom for only a month at most.To really enjoy a garden，you have to plant corners and drifts and rows of flowers that will bloom and grace the garden，each in its own season.His eyes listened to every word.Then，another discovery： “If I want a garden like yours，Grandpa，I'm going to have to work.” His grin laughed at me，and his eyes teased me.“Grandpa，in your life right now the chrysanthemums are in bloom.Chrysanthemums and roses.” Tears clouded both our eyes.Neither of us feared this last flower of fall，but the wait for spring seems longest in November.We knew how much we would miss each other.Sitting there，I suddenly felt that the best gift I could give Grandpa would be to give voice to the testimony inside both of us.He had never spoken of his testimony to me，but it was such a part of his life that I had never questioned if Grandpa knew.I knew he knew.“Grandpa，” I began — and his grip tightened as if he knew what I was going to say — “I want you to know that I have a testimony.I know the Savior lives.I bear witness to you that Joseph Smith is a prophet.I love the Restoration and joy in it.” The steadiness in Grandpa's eyes told how much he felt it too.“I bear witness that President Kimball is a prophet.I know the Book of Mormon is true，Grandpa.Every part of me bears this witness.” “Grandpa，” I added quietly，“I know our Father in Heaven loves you.” Unbidden，unexpected，the Spirit bore comforting，poignant testimony to me of our Father's love for my humble，quiet Grandpa.A tangible sense of Heavenly Father's compassionate awareness of Grandpa's suffering surrounded us and held us.It was so personal and powerful that no words were left to me — only tears of gratitude and humility，tears of comfort.Grandpa and I wept together.It was the end of August when Grandpa died，the end of summer.As we were choosing flowers from the florist for Grandpa's funeral，I slipped away to Grandpa's garden and walked with my memories of columbine and Sweet William.Only the tall lavender and white phlox were in bloom now，and some baby's breath in another corner.On impulse，I cut the prettiest strands of phlox and baby's breath and made one more arrangement for the funeral.When they saw it，friends and family all smiled to see Grandpa's flowers there.We all felt how much Grandpa would have liked that.The October after Grandpa's death，I planted tulip and daffodil bulbs，snowdrops，crocuses，and bluebells.Each bulb was a comfort to me，a love sent to Grandpa，a promise of spring.

第五篇：春天的承诺 示范作文

A Promise of Spring

Early in the spring，about a month before my grandpa's stroke，I began walking for an hour every afternoon.Some days I would walk four blocks south to see Grandma and Grandpa.At eighty-six，Grandpa was still quite a gardener，so I always watched for his earliest blooms and each new wave of spring flowers.I was especially interested in flowers that year because I was planning to landscape my own yard and I was eager to get Grandpa's advice.I thought I knew pretty much what I wanted — a yard full of bushes and plants that would bloom from May till November.It was right after the first rush of purple violets in the lawns and the sudden blaze of forsythia that spring that Grandpa had a stroke.It left him without speech and with no movement on his left side.The whole family rallied to Grandpa.We all spent many hours by his side.Some days his eyes were eloquent — laughing at our reported mishaps，listening alertly，revealing painful awareness of his inability to care for himself.There were days，too，when he slept most of the time，overcome with the weight of his approaching death.As the months passed，I watched the growing earth with Grandpa's eyes.Each time I was with him，I gave him a garden report.He listened，gripping my hand with the sure strength and calm he had always had.But he could not answer my questions.The new flowers would blaze，peak，fade，and die before I knew their names.Grandpa's illness held him through the spring and on，week by week，through summer.I began spending hours at the local nursery，studying and choosing seeds and plants.It gave me special joy to buy plants I had seen in Grandpa's garden and give them humble starts in my own garden.I discovered Sweet William，which I had admired for years in Grandpa's garden without knowing its name.And I planted it in his honor.As I waited and watched in the garden and by Grandpa's side，some quiet truths emerged.I realized that Grandpa loved flowers that were always bloom； he kept a full bed of roses in his garden.But I noticed that Grandpa left plenty of room for the brief highlights.Not every nook of his garden was constantly in bloom.There was always a treasured surprise tucked somewhere.I came to see，too，that Grandpa's garden mirrored his life.He was a hard worker who understood the law of the harvest.But along with his hard work，Grandpa knew how to enjoy each season，each change.We often teased him about his life history.He had written two paragraphs summarizing fifty years of work，and a full nine pages about every trip and vacation he'd ever taken.In July，Grandpa worsened.One hot afternoon arrived when no one else was at his bedside.He was glad to have me there，and reached out his hand to pull me close.I told Grandpa what I had learned — that few flowers last from April to November.Some of the most beautiful bloom for only a month at most.To really enjoy a garden，you have to plant corners and drifts and rows of flowers that will bloom and grace the garden，each in its own season.His eyes listened to every word.Then，another discovery： “If I want a garden like yours，Grandpa，I'm going to have to work.” His grin laughed at me，and his eyes teased me.“Grandpa，in your life right now the chrysanthemums are in bloom.Chrysanthemums and roses.” Tears clouded both our eyes.Neither of us feared this last flower of fall，but the wait for spring seems longest in November.We knew how much we would miss each other.Sitting there，I suddenly felt that the best gift I could give Grandpa would be to give voice to the testimony inside both of us.He had never spoken of his testimony to me，but it was such a part of his life that I had never questioned if Grandpa knew.I knew he knew.“Grandpa，” I began — and his grip tightened as if he knew what I was going to say — “I want you to know that I have a testimony.I know the Savior lives.I bear witness to you that Joseph Smith is a prophet.I love the Restoration and joy in it.” The steadiness in Grandpa's eyes told how much he felt it too.“I bear witness that President Kimball is a prophet.I know the Book of Mormon is true，Grandpa.Every part of me bears this witness.”

“Grandpa，” I added quietly，“I know our Father in Heaven loves you.” Unbidden，unexpected，the Spirit bore comforting，poignant testimony to me of our Father's love for my humble，quiet Grandpa.A tangible sense of Heavenly Father's compassionate awareness of Grandpa's suffering surrounded us and held us.It was so personal and powerful that no words were left to me — only tears of gratitude and humility，tears of comfort.Grandpa and I wept together.It was the end of August when Grandpa died，the end of summer.As we were choosing

flowers from the florist for Grandpa's funeral，I slipped away to Grandpa's garden and walked with my memories of columbine and Sweet William.Only the tall lavender and white phlox were in bloom now，and some baby's breath in another corner.On impulse，I cut the prettiest strands of phlox and baby's breath and made one more arrangement for the funeral.When they saw it，friends and family all smiled to see Grandpa's flowers there.We all felt how much Grandpa would have liked that.The October after Grandpa's death，I planted tulip and daffodil bulbs，snowdrops，crocuses，and bluebells.Each bulb was a comfort to me，a love sent to Grandpa，a promise of spring.