Short Story: Anonymous Letters

The author Shu Sheng, a scribe who has been trekking, a lifelong writer practitioner, the editor-in-chief of the self-media "The Spiritual Home of The Reader", and a researcher of socrates and Wang Yangming's ideological theories.

Anonymous letter

One

Teacher Ma Xinyu can be regarded as the end of his life.

Although he is not necessarily popular and not as legendary as those famous figures, his life is a quiet life, a stable and real life.

There are no heirs and no relatives. The only bachelor in the village went away peacefully. He didn't even groan before he died.

At his funeral, he saw only some villagers who did not know him and the students he had taught, but who had not made much progress and had already dragged their children and daughters.

At his funeral, the village chief boasted about how teacher Ma was highly respected and full of peach and plum, which was really nonsense. Why? In fact, Teacher Ma's virtue may not be as noble as some people think, and he is actually very ordinary in this regard.

He is also worried about the chai rice oil and salt that others are worried about, and he is also afraid of death when others are greedy and afraid of death, but the difference is that when he encounters any difficulties, he can be calm and self-assured. It is pure nonsense to say that he is respected, and no matter what fame he has, as a private teacher, it is just that the villagers see him scrupulously fulfilling their responsibilities and are willing to meet him on the road to take the initiative to greet him. In addition, in what ways have the villagers expressed their gratitude? There really isn't. These people only think that he is a little better than the average private teacher, and although they also hope that their children will become talented, they will be stingy in front of their children's education fees.

Saying that Teacher Ma is full of peach and plum all over the world, I am afraid that his old man is also ashamed under the Nine Springs. From the age of twenty-two until his retirement, no more than a hundred of his students were admitted to the county high schools, and fewer than twenty were admitted to high schools and colleges. Such a performance, how can it be regarded as a peach and plum all over the world?

Therefore, Teacher Ma is really an ordinary private teacher. But his place in the hearts of the students is unquestionable; there are almost no students he has taught who dislike him, because compared with other teachers, the students feel that Teacher Ma cares about them, is close to them, and never scolds them; and Teacher Ma is more willing to experience life with students, willing to listen to their inner feelings; willing to share the bits and pieces of life with them. Mr. Ma's care made these unloving students immediately attach themselves to him from the heart.

What moved them the most was that Teacher Ma always had a kind smile on his face, and some female students even had a spring heart for him when he was young. But he never said anything about women. Whether he knew whether he knew the good or the bad, he ignored all the ambiguous glances sent by women in the open and secret, and ignored them; this made it impossible for the villagers to figure out the reason.

So there are many versions of the rumors about his reasons for not marrying in the village. I'm not going to delve into it here.

I'm going to talk about something else here.

Two

When did Teacher Ma's kind and gentle smiling face hang on the hearts of the students? I believe that this is also a matter of concern to everyone. Since the deceased is gone, we cannot verify the truth of Teacher Ma's transformation, but after reading a "nameless letter", he became kind and kind.

As mentioned earlier, Teacher Ma became a private teacher at the age of twenty-two. This is already very good for the poorest villagers in the great southwest. They envy having such a glorious career under the sun. But it was not a good job for Teacher Ma, and he went to this village to teach all because of the Cultural Revolution. His original dream was to be a writer.

It is no exaggeration that he had loved literature as much as he loved life, and he wrote a short story on his way from the county to here, entitled "My Destiny" (the content is not to be commented on, after all, this short story is not intended to be all-encompassing). More than three hours away, he wrote a short story of nearly 10,000 words, is this not a genius writer? Not.

The county magistrate spoke early, Ma Xinyu, don't write your bullshit articles, Chairman Mao said that you intellectuals should learn from the peasants and not ink in the dance. The county magistrate taught the descendants at the meeting of the county literary association and pointed out the fate of the boys in the future on the county map.

Probably after deeply understanding the words of the county magistrate, once he arrived in the village of Anza, he really did not write articles. This shows that the role of the thinker is no greater than that of the county magistrate.

There was no "Cultural Revolution" in the village, everyone did their own work, and there was nothing to make trouble. The emperor of the mountain is far away, and the county magistrate in this village is also difficult to manage.

The arrival of the scholar has also become a sensation in the village news. When everyone saw his polite appearance, he must have known a lot of words; so the villagers proposed that he go to the village primary school to teach.

The mayor of the town really approved this, and the mayor even said: No one is allowed to move him without my permission. Naturally, he has an iron rice bowl, who can grab it? Except for the mayor.

Three

He started teaching, a profession he had previously despised, and his role was simple: to teach them about 3,600 commonly used Chinese characters. Learning Chinese characters is very boring for students, but after all, he is a college student, and can't an excellent college student control these stinking children?

Not necessarily, children's thirst for knowledge is not as strong as their desire for a good teacher; and this stupid village elementary school does not know how many lifetimes it will take to find a teacher that students like.

He taught for three years with a yard face, and saw that no one was angry.

In fact, he is very good to the students. There is almost everything you need for active students. But there was an unnatural indifference in his eyes, which even the students could see.

It is his duty to teach. During these three years, he felt that he was competent as a teacher. I have all been bent on perfection, and fate cannot ask too much of me. He thought that a man would burst into tears.

The village did not make the "Cultural Revolution", and the school was very calm; the village was also very open, and even many female children were sent to school to become literate. There were more than ten girls in his class. Of course, they could only sit in the last few rows.

These girls study more seriously than boys. But it was all the same for him, because in the depths of his soul he did not want to fall here. In his bones, he felt that he was incompatible with this village, and he had an irrepressible sense of superiority. So for the first three years he had been good to his students rather out of responsibility than by some self-esteem; he did not care about the students, otherwise he would not have remembered only four or five of them; and as for the introverted and quiet girls, he could not call a single name.

One morning three years later, when he came to the lectern as usual, he found an old, yellowed draft. It was the girl's name, and he opened it at will, the ink on it still dry, crooked, and very childish; he opened the book, and the first line was the striking words "To The Horse Teacher"; he had a throbbing in his heart, but he did not look any further, but threw it back on the table and began the new day's lecture.

He was unusually excited in the class; but the students did not see any slight change in him.

Daylight was lost as usual. At night, under the dim light bulb, he began to read the letter:

Four

Teacher Ma, at the end of my life, I shut myself in my room and wrote to you.

Some words are too much to say to you; you are my first and last teacher of initiation. I learned a lot from your class, especially your teaching that fascinates us; you speak too well, and of course it may be that we are too short-sighted.

But that's not what I'm trying to say. Because to be honest, I myself am not interested in knowledge; so no matter how well you speak, you will not impress me. So why do I keep listening to your lectures?

Because I can't understand what life is. I was terminally ill the year you came, and my parents had been hiding it from me, but once I learned the news from their night talk.

They wouldn't tell me what a terminal illness was, but they let me know that a terminal illness meant not living long. At that time, I was only nine years old, and I didn't understand the problems of life, so how did I know the horror of death? The person who urged me to come to the lecture was to hear how you dissected your life.

I will never come if you were another teacher, for I have said that I am not interested in knowledge, and that my health is so bad that I will not be allowed to come. But after hearing that there was a very talented teacher in the village, I was desperate to come to your class.

I kept sitting in the northernmost corner of the last row. For three years I have been sitting there listening to your lectures, and the position has never changed; I know you don't know my name, but what's the use of knowing? I'm going to die.

I'm just here to hear you give a lecture, and I'm waiting for the day when you'll give us a lecture about life. That's what I need most, and I desperately want to get the true meaning of life out of your mouth.

Three years have passed. I'm still sitting where I am, and I haven't heard your explanation of life. You don't say a word about life, and it makes me feel as if you don't have a life.

"You didn't tell us the secrets of life,......" You did disappoint me at first, after all, you didn't teach me what life is. But your image is rolling back and forth in my head, and it is the same as the one I remembered you before.

The other you made me think you were no longer a tall figure, but a person with a sad mind.

I said you're a sad person, right? You've never smiled in front of us, are we the ones who make you sad?

How could this be? The teacher will not bother with our children; Teacher Ma will not, I am convinced.

Teacher Ma, your sad look changed the purpose of my first class, and I thought about seeing your smile later. A lot of times because I can't sleep at night because I want you to make my time less boring.

I will never see your smile again. Teacher Ma, you didn't tell me the meaning of life in the end, but sometimes I imagine myself dying, and that thing feels like a cold stone.

I also dreamed of what I would look like after I died, where I became a wisp of green smoke and slowly rose into the sky. Oh my God, such dreams sometimes even make me want to die; because that thing is not terrible.

I will never see your smile again, and I regret that my dream did not come true. But maybe I figure it out again? I'd rather believe that I can write to you and be enlightened. When night falls, I often look at the infinitely high sky, and I think that the night is so vast, but there are still a little bit of starlight flickering, and this scene shocks me.

I can't help but think that even though life is full of wrinkles, we can still laugh at impermanence.

Teacher Ma, bless you. Although I didn't see you smile, I'm sure my classmates will see you smile, and I'm sure they'll see you smile from time to time. I hope to see you with a smile on your face all the time.

I don't need to give my name, I'm too insignificant, like a drop of dew; and names don't matter.

Well, goodbye forever. Teacher Ma, by the time you receive this letter tomorrow morning, I will be resting in the company of my mother.

The letter will be brought by Mom, rest assured she can't read. I'm too tiny.

Goodbye forever. Teacher Ma, I hope to see your smile in heaven.

Good bye!