Let me first talk about my current situation. The time I suffered from a serious illness is not short, but I can still have some confidence.

I went for a physical examination a few days ago, and a lot of unsatisfactory things happened, or I added a little bit of bargaining chips to the already bad situation.

Well... the diagnosis of vitiligo has only made my appearance unsatisfactory, but it can be considered a deep blow.

This is not a problem. I don’t care much about my appearance, or I have never cared about it.

It doesn't matter if my face turns ugly, as long as my eyes can be gentle.

Then, I went on a whim to get an expert in the Physical and Mind Health Department, well... the situation worsened a lot.

I will not mention the specific situation, because these do not seem to bring any meaning. There are thousands of miserable people in the world, and I am just one of them.

I realized one thing very early on, compassion is the most saddest emotion.

When compassion becomes the main emotion in contact, all other emotions will lose their chance of germination.

This involves another story, and I don't mind sharing this story with you.

...

It was more than ten years ago. It was difficult for me to tell whether it was thirteen or fourteen years, but one thing was something I could be sure of.

Those years are probably the glory that has shined brightly in my life until now.

A teacher that I can't forget, a girl I like is gradually deified by me as a muse... Lover? Perhaps.

It is easy to obtain a teacher of scriptures, but it is difficult to find a teacher of others.

Although I was asked to tell me what method the teacher used to educate a child like me, I was afraid it would be difficult for me to explain clearly.

But there is one thing I believe in! That is, the beating of that heart seems to be closely related to us children.

Teachers are a bit strict, of course, this is contrary to the educational methods advocated in society today.

But now I can understand the meaning of harshness and corporal punishment.

It is true that when a teacher teaches meticulously, the child will be touched in his heart. As long as he is not a stalwart, he will inevitably be touched.

But the emotions of touch, touch and gratitude are not the best way to completely change a person.

Especially for a class teacher.

Of course, she did not lack these concerns and gentleness, but no matter what, it was impossible for a person to give the same love to more than 60 children.

If we want to change the problems with us children, it is inevitable that one of us will not be enough to follow the "promoted" education method.

I can say that my teacher put most of the energy in her life in our children back then.

She even gave me something my parents couldn't give me, that thing was called dignity!

I am a regular visitor to the teacher's office. I have my name on the side of the teacher's desk, and there are three and a half words "典" after the name.

Every time I go to the teacher’s office because of a mistake, I will add a note to the name.

Now when I think about it, I will smile on my face unconsciously.

At that time, I was often cleaned up and ate dozens of handboards in a row. One of my hands was swollen like pig's trotters, but I never complained about the teacher in my heart.

That was a very strange feeling, of course it was not in line with common sense.

But I am not the only one who is a "bad" student who has such a feeling. My friends have similar feelings like me.

That is, even though the pain on the hands is still remembered, what I recalled was the teacher's haggard face.

I can no longer recall the true face of the girl I have always longed for, but for my teacher, I can still remember her footsteps, her powerful but slightly sharp voice, and her face.

To be honest, we children will certainly be afraid when facing the teacher.

But now I can understand what she shows when she treats us.

That's respect!

That is not the respect of an adult for a child, but the respect of a natural person for another natural person.

In the eyes of teachers, there is responsibility between teachers and students, and there is no gap between them.

Her teachings to us are just because she is a teacher, so she should punish students’ mistakes.

But when teachers treat us, they express themselves in the way one person treats another person.

She calls our name solemnly and seriously, and there is no change in any other way except the name.

She would not call her students like the teachers I met later, using titles such as "class monitor" and "XX committee member".

Just calling a name seriously is the only teacher in my life.

And this is just the tip of the iceberg of her respect for us.

My childhood was a bit unfortunate, and I could not say what I had experienced in words.

I can only express these things in words, so I was moved during an essay assignment and wrote down all the misfortunes I experienced and complaints about suffering.

So in this case, how should an excellent teacher do it?

Should I ask softly and express my concern? Or should I use a clever way to enlighten me in a way that I don’t know how many times I have experienced it?

I can tell you with certainty that an excellent teacher should regard these as secrets and remain silent about this!

That is a confession, and nothing about the confession should be used as a casual topic of conversation among others.

I am still grateful to her for this, without any special treatment, without the kind of sympathetic look that is boring and uneasy!

All there is is only a hundred thousand respect! It is just an adult's respect for a child who is about to mature in the way he treats natural persons!

I'm still grateful for this.

When I started writing this book, it happened not long after I quit my job from school.

I hope I can become a teacher like her and do my best to give all my students due respect.

It was that time that made me truly understand everything I needed to face as a teacher.

When a teacher stands in front of students, he needs to separate everything from his identity as a "teacher".

All the suffering in life will only exist in me, but not in me as a teacher.

The pressure was beyond imagination, and even made me feel a little breathless (of course, it was also because of my asthma).

In the end, because of my physical reasons, I chose to resign.

This is my second formal job, my last formal job was a reporter...

Well, the pressure brought by this kind of job that requires conscience is indeed great, and more importantly, there is a common problem in both jobs, that is, there is a leadership.

As a reporter, my direct superiors and senior teachers are very good people. They are real and straightforward, with faith and beliefs and their own tempers.

But this is not the case with the top leaders. The bureaucratic and decayed smell is disgusting. (The leader was recently investigated and even went to local news) laughed.

When he was a teacher, the principal was a good person, a kind of good person with responsibilities, dreams, beliefs and outstanding abilities.

Energetic and lead by example.

But unfortunately, my direct superior is not like this. He has a strong atmosphere of martial arts.

My buddy is loyal and he is good at robbing me of his fault... I don't like this way of getting along. Even though I remain silent about it most of the time, I eventually chose to resign due to my own physical reasons.

The leader between my direct superior and the principal is a bridge between an idealist like the principal and the secular world. Although I don’t like him very much, this does not affect my opinion that he is very outstanding.

Both jobs were not smooth. When I chose to write a book, I felt everything I had in my hands for a long time.

Until I am worn out...yes, "drinking out".

I don’t know exactly what the cause of my mental state deterioration is, but I think it’s probably the beginning of “not free”?

As a natural person, I don’t even have the power to choose? This is very abnormal!

All I want is to make a decision myself, which does not violate morality, and naturally does not violate the law.

But just such a simple choice is like a natural disaster to me.

Accusations and abuses are just as they once were.

Tears, complaints, and talk about endless garbage, just like before!

Love, affection, endless reasons, just like before!

When can I live as I wish?

Only at this moment, only when I slowly tell a story, can I "live" according to my wishes.

Even if it is another struggle, even the most decisive struggle in my life, I will not give up my only world.

That's all, I'm only...

The world pieced together by words is everything about me, and my gradually ugly appearance is just the reason for my refusal.

I will continue to write until it really witheres.

I will end the story and give the end of the world I have created.

Then reopen another world that is mine only.

Words will never end, at least they are the worlds that I have nurtured.

I will get better, even if it's just for the world in my hands.

The sun is still dazzling and still warm.

Sincerely

salute

The author paused.
Chapter completed!