<h1 class="pgc-h-arrow-right" data-track="1" >[September Heart Language 04] My teacher</h1>
The Second Middle School of Sanmenxia City, Henan Province
Nine
month
heart
language
My teacher
Class 88 Guo Mengyao
Even if there is no stage of flowers, no monologue of applause, but the hand holding the chalk, always makes every flower bloom.
Last fall, I began my first military training. It's a new thing for me, and although it's hot and tiring, I'm looking forward to it with new classmates and teachers. I soon got to know you, my homeroom teacher. A young round face was full of smiles, and a pair of bright eyes revealed a pure and determined gaze. This is my first impression of you.
At the end of August, the weather was still hot, and our whole class was training in the playground that day, and the sun at 3 p.m. seemed to scorch people. I was squinting my eyes and enduring this ordeal when suddenly a small bug flew in my ear. I shook my hand gently to drive it away, but the mindless bug hit me in the face, and I involuntarily dodged back a few times. I was just about to pass the nerve, but you rushed over and hugged me." Child, where is the child uncomfortable? If you are uncomfortable, you must tell the teacher that under the big sun, the teacher also hurts you. "My little body was protected under your big arms, like a sudden and incomparably pleasant shade, and you gently caressed my back with your warm and soft hands, and I knew you were worried that I would faint. Looking into your eyes, you are like a frightened child, and like a gentle and charitable old mother. I blushed, and for my own rash behavior, I whispered, "Teacher Li, I'm fine." ”
I was particularly impressed by the Games in May this year. In the afternoon, the women's long-distance running race is held. Very few people participate in the program. There was a girl in our class who attended. While the news was broadcast on the radio, several of my classmates and I were waiting for her at the finish line with our clothes. As soon as the race was about to start, you came to us from the hallway with clothes and mineral water in your hands. You gave each of us a bottle and happily said to us, "Let's cheer on our classmates together!" We all nodded vigorously, expecting the female classmate's performance. The referee gave the order, and under the order, the contestants on the field were like arrows off the string, running far away, and it was difficult to decide the winner or loser for a while. One lap down, the classmate in our class ran the fastest, much more than them. You were so happy that you waved your arms next to us to cheer on the classmate. The early summer sun shines through the tall poplar trees around the school playground, sprinkling spots of gold, and your hair is sprinkled with golden fragments, you cheer and rejoice, and those golden mottles dance with your beat. At that time, you were like a small child, when the female classmate rushed to the finish line, you were the first to rush forward and gave the classmate a big hug. Your eyes smiled into a crooked crescent, and I faintly saw the tears flickering in the corners of your eyes.
There are many moments like these that I have experienced and felt throughout the school year, and no matter what we encounter, you will face it with us. In my eyes you are magical and omnipotent. When I face failure with a lost heart, you give me courage and hope by my side, and you bring my wounded and discouraged heart into the sky of self-confidence and into the vast ocean of knowledge. When I was ecstatic in the face of a small achievement, you brought my proud and impetuous heart to the majestic "mountain", into the "flowing water" of self-improvement, and into the world of self-improvement.
One school year has passed and I have become an eighth-grader. You don't teach me anymore. But in those days, your slightly hoarse voice because of disciplining us, the figure of you lecturing to your classmates on the podium; your warm and soft hands; your eyes like a spring day; the tears flickering in the corners of your eyes... these bits and pieces will always be engraved in my mind. "Once it rains on apricots, it will be a lifetime of teachers." You are the most ordinary person and the greatest person.
On this Teacher's Day, salute my dear teacher!
Wang Hongquan Guo Mengyao Wang Jian'e