Green memories...

On the school festival day, the friend from the Central region also made it in time for the afternoon train to return from Hanoi to visit his old school the next morning. It was always so noisy, always "talking nonsense", even a bit dusty from the construction site. But this time... Just looking at him standing next to his nearly 80-year-old homeroom teacher to take a photo, you could tell he was just like a little student, just entering high school in the district.

Illustration photo (internet source).

Walking through the classrooms and the campsite of the students... He said: "That place is our class building, in the past we had to work so hard to plaster the walls, and the buildings where the teachers from Hanoi and Ha Dong came to teach were not much better, the thatched houses and earthen walls, the winter wind blew fiercely. This stadium, in the past, every time it rained, it was like a pond." Then he looked up and mentioned the names of the old teachers who could not return to visit the old place in the hall, the names of the soccer team friends from the class years ago who had not returned for many reasons. The sound of the school drum, the rows of royal poincianas, the eyes of the teachers, teachers, and friends were like a film slowly returning: Warm, passionate, romantic, and profound.

You said: Life is truly happy when you can study and be a student of respected teachers. Everyone has the same thoughts. The joy and happiness of student life is linked to the classroom environment, teachers, friends... The age of easily feeling inferior and vulnerable if not cared for and shared in the right place. The fragile age... easy to break?! So, besides the arms of parents and family, school is the "second home" that nurtures good things...

In recent days, the story of Mr. M, a classmate, was published in a local Party newspaper, making netizens read and comment without hesitation. All had the same thought: He had a teacher who was beyond wonderful. During the years of subsidy, studying far from home, taking care of himself and struggling to study, he was so poor that in his high school years he only had 2 sets of clothes cut from the old hammock of the Literature teacher. Knowing that he was chronically hungry, on weekends, the teacher "made an excuse" to call the team to train him. He was also the only one the teacher "forced" to stay and eat with the family. Alas, just peanuts roasted in fish sauce, a plate of fried tofu with a piece of fatty pork, for him it was already a "party", because for a long time he had not known what fresh food was. The teacher's children also knew the meaning, so they started talking and asking questions to make him feel less shy. As for the teachers, they only organized fresh meals on weekends; the teachers always picked the piece of meat with the least fat for him. Knowing that he had no textbooks or documents, the teacher searched for them from his seniors so that he could have books to help him review for the C block exam.

He was affectionate in everyday life but strict in studying. He said: "If you don't study hard, you can't even save yourself from poverty and darkness, let alone help your relatives." Every time he returned a test, the teacher pointed out the awkward and awkward places that made it difficult to convince the reader. He gradually improved with each semester. That year, he passed the university entrance exam to a prestigious school in Hanoi, earning praise from his teachers and friends. The day he returned to Hanoi to study, the teacher came all the way to the train station to see him off.

The teacher advised: "Try to study hard, don't compete or play around. The environment is new, but you have to keep your "quality" of living beautifully." Parents are far away, not present to see their children off to school far from home, at that time if I didn't hold back, I would have cried like a child in front of my father. And it's true, for the past few years, the teacher has taken care of me like a father? Later, I became a teacher, a famous journalist... but the teacher's words and feelings have followed me throughout my life. That is a gift that life has given me and I will cherish it forever...

In life, during the years of studying, many people also have such wonderful encounters, like a beautiful dream of their youth, sparkling and real. Ms. H always remembers the image of the old teacher who taught the first class years ago. The classroom was by the stream, the chairs were made of bamboo tubes, and the desks were cut from the kapok tree at the village entrance. The teacher was old, kind and had beautiful, soaring handwriting. The first letters were learned from him. She remembers one time because she was too tired (walking on the long mountain and forest road to class), around 10 o'clock, she fell asleep on her coloring and writing notebook. In her fitful sleep due to tiredness and hunger, she vaguely heard the teacher remind a student sitting next to her to take the notebook off her head (the teacher even helped her look up). After taking it, the teacher left her alone to sleep until school was over. That day, on the notebook smeared with dirt and sweat were the lines of writing the teacher wrote for her to practice writing. The lines written in beautiful, soft red ink...

Later, she studied with degrees and other classes and had a stable life, but the class by the stream, with the thoughtful gestures and care of the teacher, made her remember it forever. It is true that later, "new stories" also made her and anyone who knew her sad when here and there, someone distorted the image of the teacher and the teaching profession. Like her daughter, who brought her child to school with a sad face: "Maybe I have to change the class for the child. What kind of teacher is that when she picked up the child, she didn't talk, didn't smile, her face was cold. Even the child felt goosebumps, let alone the child. It was right for her to cry out loud. I don't know if there was any bullying in the class. Why is there someone who doesn't know how to smile? If she doesn't know how to smile, why did she choose this profession?". Her daughter's mood also made her worried. I hope that it was just an external expression... Because the core values ​​of the teacher, of the profession, have been engraved in the years, in the memories and hearts of many people. It's like a bright green musical note that resonates forever...

Bui Huy (According to Hoa Binh Electronic)

Source: https://baophutho.vn/ky-uc-xanh-ngoi-225169.htm