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When I was in a normal school, Zhang Xuelian, a female intern in the Education Department of Beijing Normal University, was our intern head teacher. She wrote children's poems and published many works in children's literature. In the short two months that she took us, she not only taught us to sing a small tree on campus, but also recited Shu Ting's poems and dedicated them to the oak tree and the motherland, my dear motherland. Later, these two poems were selected into high school Chinese textbooks. When I tell these two poems to the students, Zhang Xuelian's chubby face always appears in front of me, and my heart will shine. Because Zhang Xuelian is not much older than us and a college student from Beijing, we will surround her all day after class and listen to all kinds of novel things, literary anecdotes and Beijing scenery. Our real head teacher is a male teacher, who is a heavy smoker and has a very rigid personality. He speaks a mountain dialect that is extremely difficult for everyone to understand, and everyone doesn't like it. The students' love and hate made the male class teacher jealous, and turned this emotion to Zhang Xuelian to express her dissatisfaction with her excessive involvement in class affairs. Zhang Xuelian was surrounded by us when I returned to Beijing after my internship. Tears swirled in her eyes, full of nostalgia for getting to know each other in a hurry and leaving in a hurry, faintly flashing the helplessness of not getting along well with the male class teacher. After graduation, she went to china national radio to play the trumpet. In the next few years, the trumpet was our favorite program, although we had come out of our immature childhood.

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