A poem in my heart is profound and profound, which makes me climb high and drill hard; A poem in my heart is unpretentious. "Spring silkworms weave until they die, and candles drain the wick every night" is its true portrayal.
When I was a child, I thought you were beautiful and led a group of birds flying around; When I was a child, I thought you were mysterious and made all the questions interesting. When I was a child, I thought you were very powerful and always liked to hold us high. Then, I made up my mind to be you when I grow up.
In a composition, I poured out my long-hidden secret. After the composition book was handed out, you wrote a red comment on it-study hard now and become a teacher when you grow up. But to give students a drop of water, it must be a river.
If you don't know yourself, you will have a firm goal in your heart and try to run towards it; Ignorant yourself, there is a guiding light in your heart, and you are moving towards it day and night!
I finally got my wish and entered my dream university. "To give students a drop of water, you must be a river", this sentence often rings in my ear and urges me to move forward.
I plunged into the ocean of knowledge: learning to dance and learn English; Practice playing the piano and drawing; Reading Chinese and doing math. ...
In 2000, I graduated with excellent results and set foot on the three-foot platform. Water the delicate buds with what you have learned; Cultivate brilliant flowers with your hard sweat.
Only then did I understand: that piece of chalk drew a rainbow, and tears were falling; That podium, holding up the dedication of others, is yourself; In that classroom, what is released is that it is always oneself who wants to keep the nest.
On May 12, 2008, a sudden and rare disaster struck the land of China, and an earthquake of magnitude 8 occurred in Wenchuan, Sichuan Province, which had not happened in decades.
Wang Zhonghong-saved the students and sacrificed himself. That day, he was in class, and as soon as he found the abnormal situation, he quickly guided the students out of danger. When everyone was struggling to get to the complete area, he ran back to the teaching building in despair. There are still several students hiding inside, afraid to come out. Ruthless disaster claimed his life, and he died heroically and gloriously.
Tan Qianqiu, protect the podium with your own body, because there are some students hiding below. He exchanged his own flesh and blood for a new life for the students; He explained the sacred and dazzling word "teacher" with his life!
At this time, my own side understands that the poem in my heart is like the majestic Kunlun; Poetry in my heart is like a sea of waves; The poem in my heart is like the mystery of the universe!
A poem in my heart is a candle that always burns itself to illuminate others; A poem in my heart is a 5,000-year history of civilization. A poem is an impassioned song in my heart, inspiring people!