Love you, my teacher. You like a match, lit the light, at the expense of their own; you like a pencil, access to knowledge, worn on their own; you like Sassafras, get rid of the error, the oneself. Would you like a trainer, let me like you second soar to great heights; mother, let me carefree and content. Love you, my teacher.
"You don't have a job, how do you work? This powerful and solemn words left a mark in my heart. Once, I was not able to hold the book to the office because of my homework. After class, you called me to the office, I fear has taken a step by step, for fear you would fly into a rage, but you carefully told me a lot, and then, without saying a word. Your deep eyes, let me be afraid.
Love you, my teacher.
爱您,我的老师。您像火柴,点燃了光明,牺牲了自己;您像铅笔,获得了知识,磨平了自己;您像檫子,改掉了错误,了自己。您像训练师,让我展翅高飞;您像第二任母亲,让我悠然自得。爱您,我的老师。
“你不抱作业本,老师怎么工作?这句有力且严肃的话语深深地在我心中留下了印迹。有一次,我因为作业多,没能把本子抱到办公室。下课后,您叫我到办公室,我提心吊胆地迈出一步又一步,怕您会勃然大怒,但您细细叮嘱我一番后,就一言不发。您那深邃的眼神,让我害怕。
爱您,我的老师。
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