In my primary school career, there were many unforgettable people. Some of them care about me silently, while others really help me. That man, that thing, is still imprinted on my mind.

I remember when I was in the second grade, I often forgot something. I am a "careless" person. On one occasion, the art teacher arranged to paint with watercolors. I didn't remember it until class. I'm scratching my head in anxiety and I'm at a loss. My deskmate saw it. Immediately pushed his art equipment in front of me and said, "You didn't bring it, use mine first, and I'll draw it after you finish." We are good friends. " Great, I'm relieved.

When the art teacher came, she asked, "Who doesn't have a marker? Stand up! " I was just about to stand up slowly when my deskmate smiled at me and pulled my skirt. I saw that she quickly stood up and lowered her head, and she was the only one in the class. "ah! I really don't know how to thank her for lending me watercolors and training me.

The teacher has come up to us step by step and severely criticized her, saying, "I have always stressed the need to bring art equipment." Why don't you remember? " Why didn't you forget that you were at home! "The art teacher pointed to her forehead and asked her to stand on the seat.

I was blinded at once, and my heart was like knocking over a five-flavor bottle. I really want to confess everything to the teacher, but I didn't say anything when I looked into her eyes. I picked up the brush, pondered for a while, crossed the line and colored it. After a while, I drew a picture of "The Road to Friendship", in which two little girls go to school hand in hand. I lifted it for her and she smiled sweetly.

For a long time, I still can't forget it. I am very grateful to my deskmate in Grade Two. Her words and deeds are vivid in my mind and have become my role model. Help others without asking for anything in return.

350 words unforgettable person how to write this composition [350 words unforgettable person] It was a June 1 class get-together in grade four, and unforgettable people wrote 350 words. I remember that I got up early that day. After washing, I came to the classroom dressed up. The classroom is brand-new: ribbons are hung on the ceiling and connected to the blackboard. After returning to work, it said: Happy Children's Day. These words are also surrounded by ribbons with balloons hanging under them. As time went on, students came to the classroom one by one, moved their desks to one side, and left a big stage in the middle of the classroom. At eight o'clock, * * * begins. Teacher Cheng came into the classroom and said to us, "Happy June 1st!" ! The class get-together begins now! Yeah! The students cheered. Teacher Cheng went on to say: This year's get-together was hosted by the monitor! I didn't like it at first, but with the encouragement of my teacher, I went to the podium and said, Happy June 1st! Now let's start the performance. I'm going to announce the curtain call. The first performer will sing, and the performers will be Yang Ting and Tao Qi. The song is Persian cat. They embarrassedly stepped onto the platform, ..

Unforgettable Consciousness How to write unforgettable consciousness in this composition (sand)

I always remember my first teacher with deep gratitude. It is they who sow beautiful seeds in my tender heart, and teach me to love my motherland, be diligent and studious, and be an honest person. Decades have passed, and the teachers' words still seem to echo in my ears.

My first school is called Zhuxi Primary School, which is located outside Zhoutieqiao North Street in Yixing, a small town in the south of the Yangtze River. I still vaguely remember the narrow courtyard, the dark classroom, the auditorium with no seats but a small stone "stage" ... I remember the unforgettable assembly we held in this auditorium.

Probably 1942, the hard years of my career, when I was in the third grade of primary school. Teachers organized the whole school to hold many anti-Japanese speech contests here. I was on the stage, too. The speech was written by Mr. Feng, the head teacher. I remember there is a saying that "man is a knife and I am a fish".

The school is very close to the Japanese turret near Yingqiao outside North Street, only 200 meters. During the competition, someone stood guard at the school gate. When I saw the Japanese soldiers or translators passing by, I ran in to report, and then the speech was temporarily stopped and everyone sang together.

At that time, I was still young and didn't quite understand the possible consequences of this incident. Later, when I learned how the Japanese invaders brutally killed the patriots in China, I couldn't help but feel infinite admiration for the bravery of the teachers.

Teacher Feng not only teaches music, but also teaches Mandarin. She loves to wear cheongsam made of bamboo cloth, and sometimes she wears a black vest, which is very energetic. She teaches school songs in primary schools. The lyrics and tones of the school song are beautiful. The first few words are: "Zhushan is in the east, and the cycle of the lake is endless." The students are very happy. Technology is not vanity, but application. ...... "Probably in order to let students really learn the skills of' practical application', the teachers are very strict with us, so strict that it is almost harsh. At that time, corporal punishment had not been abolished, otherwise the teacher would hit your palm with a ruler

I went to school when I was six. I was young and always sat in the front row in class. Teachers like me very much. They undoubtedly said many compliments to me, but I can't remember them; But I was inevitably criticized and even punished. I have never forgotten this scene.

In my class, composition and writing big-character posters are my "strengths", but even in these two classes, I have been reprimanded. I once wrote a composition on the topic of recalling an autumn outing. The article begins: On Sunday morning, I was playing on the grass outside West Street with several classmates, and suddenly I smelled the fragrance of osmanthus, so we went to Tangxia Village to pick osmanthus. After reading it, Mr. Chen recognized the words "smell specialty" at the end. I didn't understand the meaning of this comment, so I asked. My husband told me with a straight face: Tangxia is three miles away from here, and you can smell the sweet-scented osmanthus there. Is it a dog's nose? This words hurt my heart a little, but I still feel ashamed, because I really didn't smell osmanthus fragrance, and the first few words were made up by imagination. Once in a Chinese character class, the teacher called me to the podium when handing out notebooks, and said to me seriously: Your score this time is C, which means you passed, but for you, this is a failure, because you should have got an A. If you do this again in the future, you will be slapped. I feel a little embarrassed to say it in front of the whole class, but I am still convinced, because I tried my best to whisper to my classmates in the first half of that big class, and my handwriting was really sloppy.

There is only one course in my impression that the teacher is particularly tolerant, and that is translating Japanese. Teachers don't care even if they skip classes. From this combination of leniency and severity, we primary school students seem to understand some truths that teachers have not made clear.

I graduated from primary school the year I won the Anti-Japanese War. Grandparents died one after another, and my father was still in the home front, so I followed my aunt to Shanghai. The English level of private middle schools in Shanghai is very high. In grade one, they learned the fifth book of Flexible English by Ming Kai Bookstore. There is no English class in the primary school in my hometown, so I naturally can't keep up with my work. A rural child was easily looked down upon in Shanghai at that time, not to mention some homework! The following year, when my father came back from the home front, I transferred to Pengcheng Middle School in Xiao He, Yixing, where I became a resident student. Father is a poet, living in his own world and seldom caring about children. It was Xue Shungan, a teacher from Pengcheng Middle School, who gave me fatherly love that I had never enjoyed before. I remember that my husband is from Jiangyin, tall and thin, and loves to wear a gray gown and a pair of black-rimmed glasses. He liked watching me do my homework when I was studying by myself last night. When invigilating, he stood behind me for a long time, looking at my answer sheet; He often takes me back to his own dormitory, cares about my warmth and asks me to eat his green beans. His kind, cordial and trusting eyes warmed my lonely heart and inspired my courage and strength to make progress. This year, among nearly 100 students in the whole grade, I unexpectedly won the first place. Since then, I have re-established my confidence in myself and swept away my eternal inferiority in Shanghai.

From Grade Three to Grade Two, I returned to my hometown of Zhoutieqiao and studied in Zhuxi Middle School. Most of the teachers here are the teaching backbones and administrative leaders of the famous Suzhou High School in Jiangsu Province. They were dismissed because they offended the Kuomintang authorities and lost the case in court, so they decided to go back to their hometowns collectively to rebuild Zhuxi Middle School. Their teaching is not only high-level, but also distinctive. For example, Mr. Cheng Ximin did not talk about the party's righteousness in the civics class, but told us that the world is material and the exploitation system will eventually be eliminated. Teacher Feng's lectures are also very attractive. He loves to write on the blackboard. He always starts from the upper left corner and demonstrates everything on the blackboard so that students can see it at a glance. After a class, there is a full hall and a neat blackboard. Mr. Bi Fuzhen teaches English. He used the original English Complete Book as a grammar textbook to guide us to illustrate English sentences according to the requirements in the book. We are not allowed to make any mistakes in understanding the meaning and function of any word in the sentence. They are upright, honest and have a sense of justice; At the same time, I have a deep academic ability and a strong sense of responsibility. Young people in our countryside are really lucky to work under their doors. They are not only our teachers who teach and solve problems, but also our role models.

In the second year after liberation, I left school and went to Beijing to take part in revolutionary work. Since then, long years have passed and many experiences have been forgotten; It's just a scene of primary school and middle school life in my youth. The voice and smile of the new teacher still appear in my memory from time to time, causing my thinking and reverie. I went to Wuxi to attend an academic seminar the year before last, and finally had the opportunity to return to my hometown after many years' absence. It's a pity that most primary school teachers are dead, and I can't even find their graves. Give them a student gift. There are not many teachers still alive in the middle school. Thankfully, I still met Mr. Bi Fuzhen and Mr. Feng, who both live at home. They happily recalled the situation in our class, praised me for being considerate, and made fun of me for being naughty, just like in those days.

Mr. Bi is over 90 years old and still in good health. Mr. Feng Xiaobi is five years old, but he has been in bed for many years. I found two things on Mr Feng's pillow. A Wuxi celebrity dictionary and a stack of letters. Some annotated pages in the dictionary record the resumes of some of his famous students; Most of the letters were sent by students, and some of them were sent by a student who is the best academically in our class and now works as the chief engineer in a large enterprise in Xiamen. Looking through this dictionary and these letters is probably a great pleasure in his later years.

People often say that teachers are candles, which burn themselves and illuminate others. However, I think they actually didn't just give, but got nothing. Isn't it a great enjoyment and lofty joy to watch your own saplings grow into big trees? Take our class for example, there are indeed many talents among the students. Among them are honest ordinary workers, rural cadres, primary and secondary school teachers, as well as university professors, researchers, senior engineers, senior officers and senior cadres. If the first teacher hadn't laid a solid ideological and academic foundation for us, it would be hard for us rural teenagers to imagine the subsequent development. It is true that the teachers themselves live in obscurity and poverty, and even in the county annals, few can leave their names. However, the seeds of knowledge and truth they sowed did germinate, grow, blossom and bear fruit on us students, and their life creed and noble character have been printed in our minds and melted into our blood. Therefore, teachers are immortal, which is true. Because their hasty life has been infinitely extended by students.

From the end of 1950s, I followed the path of my first teacher and became a teacher. I made this choice willingly. I love the profession of teaching. Even in the years when I was in charge of school administration, I still completed all the teaching workload that an ordinary teacher should complete; Even in those years when I was transferred from school and went out to be an "official", I still stuck to my teaching position as a teacher. When I stand on the pulpit and preach my faith to young people, I will think of my first teacher. It suddenly occurred to me that people's hard work in ordinary teaching posts will not be in vain. Since the seeds sown by our teachers have blossomed and borne fruit on their students, why can't the seeds sown by us blossom and bear fruit on their students?

Unforgettable first teacher

Time is like running water. After six years of preparation in a blink of an eye, primary school life is coming to an end. I have

He is a junior high school freshman. Looking back, I miss my primary school days even more.

My first teacher. The desert of memory is invisible, and only the mind and heart are entrusted to it.

In this boundless desert, the biggest storm can't take away a grain of sand-me.

Jiang Hong, the first teacher.

The flowers on campus are in full bloom. They stand proudly and look beautiful. However, I

Our first teacher Jiang Hong is more beautiful. Her beauty lies not only in the beauty of people, but also in her voice.

It lies in the beauty of the soul, the beauty of quality, and the beauty of being neither arrogant nor impetuous. She has trained one useful person after another.

Talent is enough to prove her efforts, but she never takes credit and remains unpretentious.

True colors Therefore, the person I admire most since childhood is the teacher. It used to be because of sleep.

Being a teacher is very imposing and arrogant. Up to now, I have learned from her that the teacher is not here.

Someone who pretends to perform on the podium. On the contrary, I have a lot of knowledge to help students solve difficult problems.

He is also an excellent teacher who is full of love and tolerance for students. Thinking of this, she has been in primary school for six years.

How much you have paid for us, scene after scene reappears in front of my eyes.

She always pays attention to every class with rich emotions and rigorous academic attitude.

Follow the instructions to stimulate our thinking. She taught me what she had learned without reservation.

Dear friends, lead us to swim in the ocean of knowledge.

She is always persuasive when teaching us Chinese, and she never gets tired of it. The student doesn't understand anything, she

Even if I am busy, I will put down what I am doing, always teaching over and over again, and always inspiring.

We ... I remember when I was a child, I didn't like writing very much, but she always left my articles in class.

Read, how flattered I am when I am young. I never thought of that clumsy little word, but it was mixed with spelling.

Her voice was childish, so she was praised by the teacher. After class that day, she stopped me and put it in my ear.

Whispered: "You have a gift, you will write a good composition, work hard." from

Therefore, I fell in love with writing and often got good news. When we make mistakes carelessly.

At that time, she seldom criticized us, but reasoned with us. When we are persuaded, she will

Be generous to us, and we won't treat him differently because he is a student who has made mistakes.

Look ",but as always, equally.

I clearly remember that my classmate Quan's father was paralyzed by an accident, and her family was very difficult.

Not only did his academic performance decline, but his personality also changed. Teacher Jiang didn't give up her education.

But to talk to her, we should not only make up lessons for her alone, but also call on the whole class to recharge their spare time.

Paper donated money for her.

Her efforts are the most touching. Homework that is not finished at school. She's always

Take it home, insist on correcting homework at night, and stay busy until late at night. such as

If we answer the wrong question, the next day, she is always in the classroom, calling us to her side and giving it to us.

Explain carefully until we can do it.

She not only patiently educated us, but also cared for us in every possible way.

In spring, she told us to hurry home after school, which is the most prone to illness. In summer,

She told us not to be exposed to the sun and to be careful of heatstroke. When it rained and thundered, she asked us to continue our study.

The school and other parents will pick it up. In winter, she told us not to play on the road, and be careful to catch cold.

Unforgettable gift How to write this composition can be written about a teacher, what gift your elders gave you, what inspiration this gift gave you, and what you understood, such as encouraging you to make continuous progress.

It can be described as follows: When and why? What does the gift look like? Then what do you think of and what inspiration do you get?

Unforgettable expression. How to write this composition has attracted tourists from all over the world.

People are busy picking honeysuckle in summer. Honeysuckle can be used as tea or medicine. At this moment

There are many people in this world that I will never forget, but the one I will never forget is a 70-year-old grandmother with silver hair. She carries a bag every day and charges people who park. I have always thought that she is a person who loves money like life.

But one thing changed my mind about her.

One day in that summer vacation, my mother and I went shopping and suddenly it rained heavily. We took shelter from the rain at the gate of the shopping mall and saw the old woman covering her bike with a plastic poncho in her hand. I saw her facing the wind, braved the rain, and covered one poncho after another. At this time, witnessing all this, I was deeply moved. I was thinking when a gust of wind blew. Oh, no, the poncho that grandma just covered was blown away by the wind, and grandma took the trouble to cover it again. Who knows, the wind seems to be deliberately facing grandma, and the newly covered poncho is blown away again. Finally, grandma limped to a corner and laboriously lifted some big bricks to hold down the four corners of the poncho. The wind roared and it rained cats and dogs. Grandma was soaked to the skin, but casually brushed her wet hair with her hands. I finally understand that grandma is not trying to make money, but to make more contributions to the masses!

This is an unforgettable person, and the tall and thin figure on that rainy night will be branded in my heart forever.

Unforgettable thing, how to write this composition that day, I went to the hospital to visit my sick grandmother by car and met the most unforgettable thing on the way.

Somehow, there were so many people on the bus that day that I struggled for a long time in the crowd and finally found a seat. My legs filled with lead finally spread out. I looked at the scenery outside the window, flapped my legs with my hands and relaxed my stiff legs. At this moment, the bus stopped and an aunt came over with a baby in her arms. The baby in her arms is still crying. I saw that while paying for the ticket, she coaxed the child to say "Don't cry, the baby will be home soon". Then the conductor shouted in her crisp voice, "Who can give her seat to this lesbian with a baby?" I want to give her my seat, but it's too hard to remember what it was like to stand just now. I was hesitating when a slightly old voice interrupted my thoughts. I looked in the direction of the sound. An old man next to me stood up trembling, patted the chair with his hand and said, "Sit here!" " "Aunt looked a little embarrassed and refused:" Grandpa, your legs and feet are not good, so sit down! ""But the old man just waved his hand and said he didn't need it, and the aunt couldn't refuse, so she had to bite the bullet and sit down. At this time, I noticed that the old man had silver hair and a thin face, but his eyes were bright, his uniform was straight, some were old, but very clean, and his shoes had fallen off a lot. Suddenly, I felt that there were many "thorns" on the chair, which made me unable to sit down in peace. I stood up and tried to give my seat to the old man. Suddenly, I braked suddenly. I slipped and stepped on the old man's foot. Strange! Why didn't he respond at all?

At this moment, the horn on the bus rang. "xxxx hospital is here." I hurried out of the car. Seeing the veteran limping down, his legs were stiff. Ah! It turned out to be a prosthesis. I was shocked and watched him disappear into the vast sea of people.

Although this matter has passed, it left a deep impression on me. He let me know that "helpfulness is the standard of cultivating personal character."

The unforgettable day of writing this composition of Yangming Cave is no different from any summer day, except that the fragrance of the phoenix flower is more intense, which seems to be sad for our separation. Three years ago, the turning of the wheel of fate made us a group of restless boys and girls in the same classroom. We have quarrels, quarrels, comedies and jokes. However, after the phoenix bloomed three times, we finally said goodbye.

Turn a circle, and finally returned to the starting point of those strangers. Only the campus remembers our common past. The wind here blows my face, the rain here wets your clothes, the sunshine here shines into his eyes, and the flowers here stain our skirts. Once upon a time, we spoke English together, talked about the past and talked about the present, and argued for a circle until someone cast a reproachful eye.

It's been three years, from the strangeness at first to the familiarity now, only 1095 days and nights. I long for such warmth, and I'm no longer used to singing sad songs alone. Instead, I am used to holding textbooks under the buttonwood tree and inviting three or two friends out to have fun under the pretext of studying. The fragrance stained my heart from my skirt.

After all, three years is like a drop of water on the tip of a needle evaporating in the July sun.

How to write 100 for an unforgettable person? In primary school, the teacher asked us to write a propositional composition to remember an unforgettable person, so I tried my best to write a composition of several hundred words, because in my childhood memory, there was really no one I would never forget. I didn't expect the teacher to give an A and read it to my classmates in class. Later, I went to middle school and college. When I was older, I experienced more and more, and there was a person in my life who bothered us. But I can only hide it in my heart silently, and I have no chance to write it for teachers and classmates.

I don't even believe that I can love someone for so long, from 17 to 23 years old. Sometimes I wonder if this feeling is true love. Just a habit? Looking back on the past six years, there are few memories about him, but my concern for him has never stopped.

I don't have much time to see him. I only have dinner together twice. I remember very clearly that once at the end of 1997, in winter and dinner, the hospital cafeteria sent porridge, oil cakes, shredded carrots and a boiled egg, which was specially bought for me. When eating, he seemed to casually say that although I am married, my home is not here, so I usually eat in the canteen. At the end of August 2002, I will be a senior. He's going to Chengdu on business. Call me. When he arrived at the hotel, it was already 7 o'clock after work. In the restaurant of the hotel, we sat together for dinner again and ordered beef tenderloin with black pepper, Taian fish, Mapo tofu and tomato and egg soup. He gave me soup and extra eggs.

In July 2003, I came to work in Wuhan, and the first call I received was from him. He returned to work in the hospital in his hometown. I sent a message asking him not to forget to tell me his new contact information. Two hours later, he replied that it was not convenient to contact in his hometown. Forget me slowly. Maybe I'll call on you when you least expect it. I didn't feel anything at that time, but when a person walked out of the door, tears actually flowed out. Chisan, forget it. If you can, it is a kind of luck. If a person's heart can only burn one name.