Text/Zhang Fuxian Photo/From the Internet
funeral
The winter sun shines warmly on the earth, shining on the pines and cypresses in front of the funeral home, and the snow on the old cypress trees has not yet completely melted, and under the brilliant sunlight, it reflects a dazzling silver light, and the glow is dazzling and shining. This morning, I was in the funeral home and attended the memorial service held by the school for my colleague Mr. Li Zhi.
A bitter north wind blew through, my face ached like a knife, I craned my neck, trembled my body, and recited a eulogy: "... Teacher Li Zhi works diligently, works hard and complains, is conscientious and responsible... He selflessly dedicated his youth and years to the party's educational cause, and although he became ill with hard work, he continued to work with illness until he sacrificed his precious life. I choked up, and there was a low sob from the crowd at the scene.
After the funeral, Li Jie chased after me behind me, he was Li Zhi's son, he called me and handed me a stack of thick notebooks.
"Headmaster, this is my father's diary."
Diary One
I sat in my office, quietly looking at the stack of diaries piled up in front of me, and turned one of the pages curiously.
Monday, May 20, 2019 Sunny
I was admitted to the county people's hospital.
I have severe asthma. I was so tired from work this semester that a month ago I started coughing and wheezing again and not breathing well. However, the students were about to take the middle school entrance examination, and I really did not want to delay their homework, so I kept gritting my teeth and insisting on working. Last week, Dr. Wang told me that my asthma had recurred and could not be postponed any longer, otherwise I would be worried about my life. I replied, let me insist on a few more days, the students will take the middle school entrance examination, I am the class teacher, I really can't leave them. Dr. Wang sighed and looked at me and shook his head.
Last night, I couldn't catch my breath, and it was the ambulance called by my son that took me to the hospital.
I closed the journal and remembered what happened before the exam that year. At that time, I had just taken up the position of principal, and when I saw that Mr. Li Zhi was seriously ill and still insisting on working, I was very worried about his health and wanted him to take leave for medical treatment. He smiled and said, "Minor injuries cannot reach the line of fire." At that time, I sighed: "You! No tears are shed without seeing the coffin. It wasn't until he couldn't continue his work that he left his beloved student, left the pulpit, the most important stage of his life, and was admitted to the hospital. In the middle school examination that year, Mr. Li's math score was the first in the county.
My eyes were moist and tears were spilling from the corners of my eyes.
Diary two
I opened another diary, which Teacher Li wrote in June last year.
Thursday, June 4, 2020
This morning, I was a little dizzy. However, I still have two math classes to go, and the students are waiting for me to give them a review of the papers. I entered the classroom, my steps were a little hesitant, and the class leader moved me a chair and made me sit down, and he looked at me worriedly.
The class was over, the students were quiet, they were listening carefully, taking notes word by word. I was lecturing on the podium when a dizziness struck me, and I suddenly understood: something bad was going to happen. I held on to my desk and slowly slipped out of my chair and fell to the ground. The classroom was in a state of panic. I weakly instructed the class leader who ran from my seat: "Go and call Teacher Zhang." "I know that Old Brother Zhang is taking a class in the next classroom.
I was taken to the hospital. The test results were: Li Zhi, high blood pressure, 200/140mmHg.
I remember very clearly that the doctor suggested that Mr. Li take a month off, but he only stayed in the hospital for three days, and then ran back to the school to continue to teach the students. He said he didn't want to delay the students' homework and that there was nothing wrong with his health. He was confident.
What a stubborn old man!
Diary three
I turned the diary to the last page, the day before Mr. Li died.
Thursday November 25, 2021 Overcast
This semester, I took another first-grade math class, the leader considered my physical condition, wanted to give me a class, I did not agree, I was grinding in the principal's office and did not leave, the principal had no choice, had to add another class to me. The students' midterm grades were quite good, with an average of 114 points in math in the first class and 107 points in the second class, but they still did not fully meet the goal I set for themselves - an average of 110 points or more.
Tomorrow, I will talk to a few students with slightly worse grades, and take time to give them some homework, so that in the middle school exams in two years, their math scores will not affect their overall scores. "Not a single one can be left behind!" This is what I have asked for in my teaching career for almost half of my life.
The phone's alarm went off. At 11:30, it's time to rest. However, I have just finished grading my homework, and my lesson plan needs to be changed again.
Recently, I've been feeling a little unwell, probably because I'm having asthma problems again. However, I could not fall, and there was another student named Liu Qiang in the class, whose math score did not exceed 100 points.
On November 26, Teacher Li was admitted to the hospital again, and his lung disease recurred, and this time, he did not survive. He had a high fever, and when he was dying, he was still chanting: "I want to go back to school, I haven't given Liu Qiang a make-up lesson yet." ”
After closing the diary, I burst into tears, and the diligent and dedicated figure of Teacher Li Zhi appeared in front of me. Needless to say, Teacher Li had already arrived in the classroom; at 11:30 p.m., the office lights went out, and it was that he had just finished grading his homework and was ready for tomorrow's lesson. "Not a single one can be left behind!" Teacher Li's words echoed in my ears, and this was the driving force for him to persist in his work with illness and work hard for the party's education cause. "Minor injuries can't get into the line of fire!" He was laughing again, and I was in tears and sighing.
The phone rang, it was the director of the Education Bureau, Niu, who asked me to prepare the deeds of Teacher Li, and I opened the diary again...
Rest in peace, dear brother!
About author:Zhang Fuxian, formerly known as Zhang Huifeng, is a geography teacher at Chengwu Bole No.1 Middle School in Shandong Province. Use poetry to record the joys and sorrows of life, use words to describe the good, evil, beauty and ugliness of the world; good reading, love calligraphy, to praise the true feelings of the world, to say all the unfairness of the world. He is a contracted writer of original Chinese novels, and his works are included in "Chinese Countryside", "Shi Xing Kuangyuan" and "Qingquan Record".
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