My left hand is congenital malformation, my palm is very small, and my only three little fingers are still attached and inseparable. For a girl who loves looks, this is undoubtedly a hundred times more painful than internal injuries in her stomach. However, some students just ignored my difficulties and deliberately sprinkled salt on my wound. When I was a child, I heard someone call me "one hand" and scolded them. When you grow up, your courage will naturally become inferior. He always hides his left hand in his sleeve for fear that someone will see him.
After graduating from primary school in the autumn of 1996, I entered the third middle school that I didn't want to enter at that time, but I met my most satisfied teacher. Xu teacher, the head teacher, appointed me as the monitor, and Mr. Wu, who teaches Chinese, named me as the class representative.
Unexpectedly, the first time I stood up to read the text, I was in trouble. When I was leafing through the books, I was inadvertently caught a glimpse of my privacy by some naughty boys. They stopped reading and laughed at me. I was ashamed and angry, ashamed, and only shed tears. Just then, a loud cry came from the class: "What are you laughing at?" ? Shut up! "
It's teacher Wu. The laughter in the room stopped abruptly. He walked up to the podium with an angry face, his sharp eyes swept away, and he snapped, "What morality is there to joke about the pain of his classmates?" Where is friendship? "While reprimanding, I pulled my left hand out of my sleeve, just like the referee in the boxing ring clenched the winner's hand and raised it above his head." Look clearly, Han Bing is not as sound as you. But between classmates, it should be more than learning, more than progress, more than unity; It is also necessary to compare which hands the high school admission notice can be sent to after three years. As a student, is it too low and boring to compare food with clothes and looks blindly? "
Like a warm current rushing all over my body, my eyes suddenly changed from moderate rain to heavy rain. Teacher Wu wiped my tears with her hand and comforted me kindly: "Don't cry, it's not your fault. In the future, you must stand up, be generous, and don't hide behind your back. " In fact, there was only trust and gratitude in my tears at that time. Where is there any shame and sadness? I firmly believe that only my parents and teachers in this world don't dislike my hands. However, my parents didn't have the opportunity to express their feelings for me openly like teachers.
"It's not your fault. Stand up and be a man. " This spring rain-like discourse dispelled the haze and dirt that had shrouded my heart for many years and gave me a true and complete self. From then on, my hands can move freely in the clear sky and during the day. Not only can I no longer hear satire and ridicule, but I often get enthusiastic help from my classmates.
By the second day of junior high school, our grade was divided into two key classes. Fortunately, Mr. Wu is still teaching our Chinese class, and I am his class representative. It can be seen that in order to improve our academic performance and the teaching quality of the school, he has been working hard all day. He conceived a Chinese teaching model and began to put it into practice. He said that this can not only strengthen our understanding and application of basic Chinese knowledge, but also reduce our academic burden and implement "quality education". While trying to improve our reading appreciation ability and adapt to the complicated and changeable examination methods and contents, he attaches great importance to the selection of outstanding students and carefully prepares talents for future study. Even my half bottle, which is poor in literary and artistic cells, has not escaped his favor. He often praises my writing and prose in class, saying that I have rich feelings, quick thinking and strong imagination. Unconsciously, my hobbies have shifted, and my obsession with literary works is increasing.
I didn't expect that the second day of junior high school had just made a good start, and we met Black Monday. After the teachers' meeting in the afternoon, all the other classes were out of school. Only our two key classes are still waiting for Mr. Wu to come back to work and make arrangements for us at night. Who knows that he came and was immediately called out by a teacher who followed him. Teacher Wu has no choice but to let us finish our studies first.
In the morning reading the next day, a fat director came to our class. He told us that he would change our Chinese teacher because of "work needs". As soon as we heard it, we got angry and asked noisily, "Is this true?" "Why is this?" Teacher Wu came in from the door and said in a trembling voice, "Students, be quiet. This is a decision that I have to make against my will in order to cater to the intention of a certain leader. The reason is that there are people who are more suitable as class teachers in key classes waiting to take over. " My mind is full of exclamation marks and question marks, but I can't vent them in my stomach, because we see that Mr. Wu's face is so ugly, and we know that he is enduring great humiliation and anger.
I'm completely devastated. The liveliness on weekdays and the reserve of the monitor are all ignored. I just felt more wronged than being beaten for no reason, and burst into tears in public. What happened next? Did anyone persuade me? I have no feeling at all. I cried for a whole class and looked up. Many students cried my eyes red and swollen. Later, I heard that at the same time, in the class where Mr. Wu was the head teacher, girls cried and boys scolded, which was a mess. Perhaps they have learned some clues about things, and some scold someone in the class for being black-hearted and rotten; Some scold the headmaster and director for losing their heads and being blind. Although Mr. Wu no longer teaches us, he will always occupy my heart. When we were in the third grade, he didn't be a class teacher, but only taught ordinary classes in the first grade. Every day after class, I always see him wandering around the vegetable fields in the backyard of the school. It looks very free and easy. In fact, I can guess by feeling that he hides extreme grief and depression behind the free and easy. Because after the accident, I have heard from other teachers that Mr. Wu often suffers from insomnia all night, and his stomach trouble is sharply aggravated; I also saw with my own eyes that Mr. Wu was haggard and his white hair suddenly increased. But every time he sees me, he is still very happy, laughing and joking with me: "Han Bing, what subject did you cry about in this exam?" I smiled shyly: "No way" "No way? Is that dew hanging on your face? " I was exposed by him, my tongue stuck out and made a face, and then "hmm" and whispered, "Geometry." Teacher Wu smiled and said happily, "Well, I promise to get another hundred points in the next exam." I admire it. I don't want anyone to surpass me in every exam, so I almost have a chance to cry after every exam. This strange hair was somehow observed so clearly by teacher Wu.
I was admitted to No.1 Middle School which many people can't reach. Teacher Wu gave me a sentence: be diligent and study, the latter is more important than the former.
A few years later, I took advantage again.
Feel the teacher's love
There is a profession that is the most beautiful, and that is teachers; There is a landscape that is the most meaningful, and that is the soul of the teacher; There is one emotion that is most touching, and that is the relationship between teachers and students. We have the same scorching sun, we have the same vast sky, and under the same sky, we spread hope with love. ...
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She has a pair of bright eyes, which radiate innocent and lively light from time to time. In her thirties, she still has a heart as young as ours. She has an elegant temperament and is an unforgettable teacher. Her profound literary background makes her more outstanding. No matter who she meets, she will give him a sweet smile, which makes people feel unspeakable comfort. Her voice is beautiful, soft and refreshing, and a series of words slip out of her mouth, just like delicious jelly sliding down her throat. A seemingly ordinary sentence, modified by her clever mouth, became beautiful and moving. It was a real pleasure to listen to her lecture.
She pursues perfection in everything, "either do it or do the best", which is my evaluation of her. She can always face the busy work with a normal heart, seize every opportunity and fully display her personality on the big stage.
In fact, there are not only flowers and applause in her life, but also difficulties sometimes. No matter what difficulties she encounters, she has always been so strong in front of us, and her sallow face is still smiling. Perhaps the wind and rain of the years will wash away her memory, and the wheel of history will crush many of her past experiences with us. But there is a kind of warmth that will never be diluted by the running water of the years-that is the love between teachers and students!
Serious, practical, beautiful and sincere like a child, this is my head teacher-Chen Min.