I cannot forget him

He was exceedingly preference for me. We read elementary school only Chinese and maths class two subjects, he will when he was tired the classroom to me, let me take students read, even asking questions, the supervision and check of endorsements and writing assignments. The sacred pointer he also will give it to me, and give it to me and his authority. His eyes sharp, energetic, students despite naughty, but class but never the clouds. And I can side in his lecture, side in the drawer of the writing on the blackboard when turned below secretly watch comics, picture books, and before he turned quickly hid in. 

Sometimes a good grasp of the time not fascinated by his found, he quickly came out, draw out of my drawer, look at and then go back to class. The exam, other children still trying, I have meditation will do the job into his hand, then test stand beside him, see his question to give me a question, then, he would corrects satisfactorily in front of the whole class announced I approach full marks achievements, or patted me on the head of the blame, so angry where shouldn't I careless. Most lets me hard to forget is far from the school, that my family, my parents are busy farm work, home and two younger brother, I often because these things are late or absent, if not to leave, he ahead of his class, tend to postpone students write, see my endorsement buttfly.you rushed to the classroom, he was gratified to walks on stage.coach bags stores

Don't know at that time still is the child's why he can give me so love, never know that a bunch of pure country boy at heart he did for my best-hated eccentric and pampering. I only know that hard years, I have a lot of sentimental and sorrow hatred, but think of him, thought of his class, my heart was filled with sunshine, full of longing. It was hazy, I meet chenfeng, watching the stars, not retreat wild dream seems to in the not too distant colorful ahead. Music.my, just think of his eyes, he enjoyed much the smile, I will be full of courage and strength.  coach bags supplies

Later, I left that remote elementary school, also left the concomitant years of my dear teacher, not to say goodbye, also did not say thanks. Just in the heart buried the a single firm seeds - grew up must do a man of his teacher. As his students, he gives me the life happy, faith and courage, I unforgettable, as a teacher, I hope will these precious wealth brings more children, I will never to work hard! And will this, to his reward. As

That good years

Haze, the telephone to think, casually took cell-phone, a see shows, is he. Suddenly heartbeat incredibly accelerated, filled with excitement. We seldom contact, but I've been keeping his number, occasionally he would call me, are all about some relatives and friends of the children read things.

His voice was so powerful, that kind of resolution and spell able still, well I haven't seen you for years, but in my mind, his image never changed, so jun lang, clean-cut, full of face of thoughts, fleeciness personality even dark hair, lidded eyes. These deeply left in my memory, that later see this kind of shape of a man, I'll unjustly produce somewhat goodwill.

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I met him when I was a child, his eight years old then seventeen-and eighteen-year-old appearance, or the more little! I only know he once again to my home to talk, and father, enabling me to return to school. But it is not so I like his reasons. He taught me to language and the teacher in charge, energetic he'll modulation, expressive speaking, he is in the 1980s with mandarin class when they read the text aloud, and like, he read besides pure beautiful voice, but also will proper have various movements and gestures, he will be told us the outside world, speaks the impression of creativeness, fuzzy, he told us, "XueNiHongZhao prose, afterwards just know by su shi:" life like, how should be known everywhere like mud.  coach bags sale

Mud faye following the toe claw, occasional stay flying that complex plan things ", this is my first contact was never know the poetry, the author, poetic flavour is don't understand, but, remember the innocence of faye away, claw reserved for snow images. I was absorbed in his classroom, obsessed with his language lesson. Then I attended school is a poor and remote places from the wreck of the classroom, remember back, opened a door to his room, where are the deepest impression hangs a erhu, but have never seen him pull over, then I often longings, the strange instruments will issue how to voice? When can hear him play?