Essays in Memory of Teachers _ Painful Essays in Memory of Teachers

I believe everyone will have their own teacher. When the teacher died, all we can do is mourn. The following is my essay in memory of the teacher, I hope it will help you!

Prose in memory of the teacher (1)? Did Mr. Chen Maoxin go? This tsunami-like news was told to me by my friend Mr. Tang. I will never believe that a passionate poet full of knowledge and talent has left the world he yearns for.

I know many predecessors of Tianjin poetry, but none of them are close friends except Mr. Chen. I know Mr. Chen Maoxin because he joined the poetry circle of our city with many predecessors ten years ago? Sun tree? Poetry recitation, and later he and other teachers participated in the launch of my poems "Sun Tree" and "Sun Dream". And our deep communication stems from a very accidental conversation. It was the autumn of 199 1 year, my poem? An old man playing cotton? Are you online? Jinshan cup? I won the prize in the national poetry contest, and the organizing Committee informed me to receive the prize at the Chengde Awards Conference. I heard that Mr. Chen from the City Writers Association also attended the meeting, so I called Mr. Chen rashly and asked him if he could go with me. Unfortunately, Mr. Chen has a lot of things to do. He just asked me to tell him about the meeting when I got back. I am a serious and responsible person. After I returned to Tianjin from Chengde, I immediately ran to the city writers association to find the editorial department of Tianjin Literature and told Mr. Chen about the meeting.

Teacher Chen listened quietly and had to deal with visiting authors from time to time. Perhaps it was because of the unfortunate pressure of life at that time, perhaps it was because the emotional career of serving students wholeheartedly just started made me feel surging. Anyway, I have reached the age of dreaming psychologically, and I don't care what I should say or not. After introducing the Chengde conference, I told my life experience like giving a report to students in a university, and told a touching story between me and my friends and students. I want to tell Mr. Chen that there are too many beautiful feelings in the world worth cherishing and writing. On that occasion, I spoke for nearly three hours. As an old editor with 30 years of editing experience, Mr. Chen was moved by me. He said, I have been an editor for 30 years, and I have never seen an author like you. He summed up three sentences for me: Tian Fang is like fire; Tian Fang's love is universal love, like the sea; There is only one Tian Fang in China. Teacher Chen's evaluation of me moved me and made me realize the value of my life. Living in this world, one can love others wholeheartedly, bring happiness to people around him and be loved by others. It is really an unspeakable happiness and joy. Teacher Chen immediately stated that he must help me and let me develop my poetry creation. Soon, my poems Bieqing and We Walk into Late Autumn were published in Tianjin Literature. That is, since then, my poems My Little Grille and A Dream have also been published in Tianjin Literature.

Later, several friends I knew who had a certain influence in Tianjin's literary world often mentioned Mr. Wang's help to me, and some even told me that they had been close friends with Mr. Chen for many years. So we agreed to invite Mr. Chen to sit with us and talk about the teacher-student relationship and friendship. When we told Mr. Chen the idea, he agreed happily. I didn't expect this kind of party to become a wonderful form for everyone to talk about experiences, exchange experiences and enhance friendship. Everyone feels that they not only broaden their horizons, but also have a sense of psychological relaxation after work. So, everyone agreed to get together every once in a while and enjoy the rare friendship between people. In a few years, no matter who is the host, everyone will take time out of his busy schedule to go to the appointment and enjoy the happiness when people collide. Mr. Chen is the oldest in our group. He doesn't like singing, and I haven't seen him dance, but every time we get together for entertainment, he sits silently, listens to our singing and watches young people play crazily. He always has a serene smile on his face, as if enjoying his own artistic works. Speaking of it, the growth of us people is related to Mr. Chen, otherwise, he will not be respected by all of us.

As for how much Mr. Chen values our party, I heard it from his wife and son after Mr. Chen died of serious illness.

When I visited Mr. Chen, he couldn't speak fluently. His wife, Sister Dong, told me that Mr. Chen often talked about us when he got home. Especially the day after Mr. Chen's death, several of us made an appointment to visit his family at Mr. Chen's house. What Mr. Chen's son Reddy said made me very sad. He said, I can name all of you. My father is very happy when he comes back from every party. He always tells something about you. Knowing that Mr. Chen values us students, not only does he often talk about parties with his family, but what makes me uncomfortable is the scene when I learned that he was ill and went to his home with an acupuncturist. Sister Dong told me that Mr. Chen's feelings are very fragile after his illness, and he will be excited for a long time when he receives a phone call from any friend. When he knew that I would bring an acupuncturist from a big hospital to see him, he was so excited that he burst into tears and didn't sleep well all night.

I know that on the one hand, Mr. Chen has high hopes for the doctor I introduced, and on the other hand, he is glad that I am a student in danger. Unfortunately, the one that cured many incurable diseases and published it in Tianjin Daily? The patient called him an imperial doctor? The doctor who reported the topic didn't cure him. Prior to this, Mr. Chen had been treated in many hospitals, and he was never able to diagnose what the disease was. At the suggestion of my doctor friend, Mr. Chen was admitted to the hospital for systematic examination and treatment. It can be said that in order to cure Mr. Chen's illness, all relatives and friends who care about Mr. Chen have done their best. However, there is nothing we can do. It was not until Mr. Chen died that the hospital made an accurate diagnosis of his illness.

Although I know that Mr. Chen is very ill, I always believe that modern medicine will work miracles on Mr. Chen. I never thought that he would suddenly leave us. You know, in a few days, Mr. Chen will leave us forever. No matter how busy I am at work, I will take time to go to the hospital to see my teacher for the last time. Now I truly realize that there are many things in the world, and once they are missed, they can't be redeemed. When I walked out of Mr. Chen's house with several friends who had been worried about Mr. Chen, everyone said that we must cherish the days together.

Teacher Chen left, with his unfulfilled dreams, his attachment to his relatives, friends and the world, and his deep sorrow for our students. What he left to the world were his passionate poems, literary magazines and literary series edited by himself. I believe that all those who have benefited from Mr. Chen will never forget him. If one day, we get together again, our first glass of wine must be to Mr. Chen, because he will always be a member of our team and a respected person of all of us.

Prose in memory of my teacher (2) 20 16 In the early morning of July 3 1, Jenny called to say that Teacher Zhang had left. This sudden wail rang through the whole morning, and the gray sky suddenly filled with sadness. I immediately shouted: no!

When I arrived at Jenny's home in Shu Ren School, my teacher, Mr. Zhang Jiyu, was lying quietly in a corner of the living room, covered with a sheet and with a piece of toilet paper on his face. The family is busy with teacher Zhang's funeral. Jenny choked up and said that Mr. Zhang left us at one o'clock in the morning. On his deathbed, he was most concerned about his grandchildren and refused to swallow his last breath intermittently. So, Jenny said: Don't worry, your eldest grandson has a daughter-in-law, and his work will be implemented when he comes back from studying in Belgium. His little granddaughter is in college, so don't worry about the future. ?

Jenny is a strong old man. With Mr. Zhang gone, she may be more worried about her future life, which has lasted for more than half a century. On crutches, she resisted her inner helplessness and grief, saying that if she was not strong at this time, Teacher Zhang would not be at ease, so she dared not cry. In order to let Teacher Zhang leave us quietly, she had to comfort Teacher Zhang to leave.

The morning sun is still hidden in the clouds in the east. I opened the toilet paper covering teacher Zhang's face at Jenny's house. As usual, Mr. Zhang looks quiet and serene, calm and peaceful, with his eyes closed and his lips closed. He is usually on the train to heaven when he is asleep. He was afraid that someone would disturb his peace and make his children cry.

Teacher Zhang just left.

Before teacher Zhang's body, I called Luo first. He was in his hometown and couldn't catch up with school for a while. Later, I called Lv Liangdian and asked him to go to Jenny's house to say goodbye to Teacher Zhang. Luo and Lv Liangdian are both my brothers. They are students of Xishui Normal School after Teacher Zhang retired. Later, when Mr. Zhang came to teach at the school for the second time, I was lucky enough to worship at his master's door. Fortunately, Luo and Lu Liangdian are good friends with me. Every time at teacher Zhang's house, he always asks about them.

Around eight o'clock, many students, relatives and friends of Teacher Zhang came one after another. That morning, more than 60 cars were loaded with deep memories of Mr. Zhang and escorted him to the funeral home.

I met in a hurry, and I can't tell you the feelings of teachers and students for a lifetime. My teacher is about to set foot on the road home in heaven.

I remember that year, Mr. Zhang was the academic director of the school. Among the teachers in the corner, I spent the most unforgettable year in my life. Every time Mr. Zhang walks into the classroom, he stands up loudly. What we see is that Mr. Zhang stepped onto the podium with a heroic attitude and passion. His gold-rimmed glasses are still deeply imprinted in my mind. Occasionally, I took off my glasses and put down my lesson plan. The dialect with Mandarin in it provoked us to follow his story into the ocean of knowledge. Occasionally, with a straight face and a pink pen, I severely reprimanded naughty children. At that time, the teacher was beside the flowers. The classroom was not full of humor, but full of warm spring breeze. He was particularly concerned about these ignorant children. When the bell rang, the teacher picked up the remaining chalk heads and walked out of the classroom slowly.

I remember one winter ten years ago, my teacher learned from some books that my resume suddenly came to my office and gave me a blue and white tie. There is a note in the tie that says:? Yesterday, I was naive, but now I am a great pillar. Shine on you, ice is better than water. ? That year, I was thirty years old, which happened to be my thirtieth birthday. Mr. Wang didn't know my birthday, but happened to catch a glimpse of the introduction in books and periodicals. That day, after Mr. Zhang left, I wrote "The Journey of Standing". Not for the world, but for the world. But it depends on the distinction between inside and outside, and on the boundary between honor and disgrace? As my motto, I pressed under the glass plate in the office and warned me to always remember the teacher's teachings.

After a nightmare all night, the weather was very cold. Who do the teachers and students tell? The teacher left only a smile and a thick book. Once again, I opened the teacher's "Sang Yu's Dream Song" and saw on the title page: For Fu Gang, I will never forget it. Inscription is a fool's plan. This anthology of poems and couplets, which contains my teacher's life, is a must-read book that I often keep at my bedside. Over the years, every work my teacher has created, whether it's poetry, lyrics, essays, couplets, etc. Will give it to me as soon as possible, and I will write very modest language on paper for me to correct. I have edited and published most of these works in Xishui Daily and Red City Literature, or recommended them to be published in other publications. After they were compiled into a book, I have been reluctant to put them on the bookshelf, so I can only put them on the bedside for reading before going to bed.

It was in 20 12, and I repeatedly lobbied Mr. Zhang to collect and sort out his manuscripts in my third home, and finally compiled a book. Teacher Zhang was full of worries. I lobbied again and again, and teacher Zhang reluctantly agreed. The next year, he handed the sorted manuscript to his eldest son, Zhang Geng, who printed it and sent it to my mailbox.

Teacher Zhang's poetry works are full of graceful style, feelings of home and country, and gardener's dream. As a disciple of Teacher Zhang and the chairman of the Writers Association, I have no reason to refuse such excellent works. Next, I naturally undertook the editing and design of the manuscript. After reading through all of Mr. Zhang's manuscripts and abridging some contents, Mr. Zhang repeatedly asked me to make a preface to this collection of poems after the editing was mature. To tell the truth, this is the masterpiece of my teacher's life. How dare I trample on it with clumsy language? In the winter of 20 13, I repeatedly refused and shirked, hoping that Teacher Zhang would give up this idea. Finally, I had to write "Canvas with Poetry" under the guidance of my teacher.

I can't give a preface to Mr. Zhang's Sang Yu's Dream Tune, but I can only write a comment. According to this article,

I got instructions from my teacher: I edited the book "Sang Yu's Dream", but I trembled in hesitation. My worries made me laugh and give generously. Holding the teacher's manuscript and reading it one by one, I deeply felt that Mr. Zhang devoted his life to poetry and felt a lot. First, worry about the country and the people, indulge in landscapes; The second is to publicize your hometown and express your chest; Third, cherish life and sing with friends. Exactly: crazy singing, singing with a youthful heart, Sang Yu's pursuit of dreams is endless.

I am glad that I was taught under the seat of such a respected old man. Although it was only one year, the teacher taught me with his soul that touched the world, leaving me with precious spiritual wealth and benefiting me for life. For so many years, the teacher treated me as one of their own, and I felt deeply in my heart. Even though the four walls are silent, our teacher-student relationship is enough to show that it is deeper than the sea and higher than Mount Tai. On the occasion of my teacher's seventy-eighth birthday, I wrote the article "Forever Feelings". On his birthday, I took the newspaper to school and personally gave the article in the newspaper to Mr. Zhang. I know that Mr. Zhang has no worries about food and clothing all his life, and filial piety comes first. One spring a few years ago, I was on a business trip in Guangyuan, Sichuan, and brought his old man a dress as a gift. On the occasion of his 78th birthday, I can only wish the teacher a long and healthy life in this simple way. So, I wrote at the end of my poem Canvas:

I'm Ben? Yesterday, innocent Jiro? The teacher praised me ten years ago? Stand up straight today ? It scares me. I dare not live there. Drowning my feelings, I hope the mountains and seas will last forever and shine with the sun. Students have nothing to return, only: knocking on my teacher for a hundred years and worshiping Zhang Weng for a thousand years.

When this manuscript entered the final examination and approval moment, when I came to Teacher Zhang's house with a sample book, Jenny received me at home alone. I didn't know that the teacher lived in Xishui County People's Hospital again that day, and then transferred to Chongqing Southwest Hospital for treatment. I feel overwhelmed with pain. Jenny told me that Mr. Zhang said before he was admitted to the hospital, don't tell me about his illness, let me work hard and entrust me to decide the manuscript.

During my teacher's hospitalization in Chongqing, because of his busy work and his manuscript, I couldn't visit Chongqing. I just wanted to print his book as soon as possible to surprise his old man. Finally, in the spring of 20 14, Sang Yu Dreamed returned to Xishui from Chengdu Express, and officially met the readers on the eve of the teacher's birthday.

It was a rainy day, and I sent Teacher Zhang's Sang Yu Dream Song to school. Mr. Zhang has been hospitalized from Chongqing and has gone home to recuperate. Although his body is getting thinner, when he saw that his life's hard work had been written into a book, his mood suddenly became clear. He held my hand tightly and said, Fu Gang, you are my spiritual pillar after retirement! ? Seriously, Mr. Zhang, as one of your students, I just did what I should do.

Sang Yu's Dream Song soon became the most expensive gift for Mr. Zhang's students and old friends, and everyone demanded it. The book spread to Jiangsu, Beijing, Heilongjiang and other places. Every time someone reads Sang Yu's Dream, they write congratulations and comments to Mr. Zhang. It shows that Mr. Happy, a poet and translator, wrote "Singers always face the light", in which he wrote:

Yu Xiansheng's poetry creation, to some extent, confirmed my idea. Poetry has obviously become his favorite way of expression, expression and talk: facing his hometown, history, nature, campus, daily life, people and things, big and small, including many national and international events. This of course requires passion, continuous passion. And passion is the best embodiment of vitality. It seems natural for a person to have passion and vitality when he is young, but if he keeps passion and vitality all his life, it is quite commendable and can be regarded as a miracle. In this sense, true poets and artists are miracles. Reading Yu Xiansheng's poems, I am moved and infected by this inner passion and vitality from time to time.

Teacher Zhang often tells me that Mr. Happy, a complete stranger, is the only one who can read him. So, Mr. Happy wrote at the end of the article:

There is no doubt that poetry has become a belief of Yu Xiansheng. Happy are those who have always believed in poetry. Here, I want to sincerely pay tribute to Mr. Yu Ji!

The teacher left, leaving a thick book, vertical and horizontal? Ancient and modern? Talking and laughing. Moderate singing, witty remarks. Seeing things and thinking about people, thinking like a flood, I really hope that the teacher wrote it at the end of the opening preface? I still like to sing Weng's body and continue to swim in the sea of rhyme. The same! Today, I once again open Sang Yu's Ode to a Dream and read the teacher's legacy, as Mr. Zhang Kaiqian said:

Brother Ji inherited the patriotic tradition of the poets of past dynasties who were concerned about the country and the people, and always loved to learn water? If you are in a foreign land, what is your hometown? Love? His poetic style is a combination of elegance and boldness, which is related to Xi Dahan's singing. River of no return? And there are Jiangnan pretty girls whispering? Wind and waning moon in Yang Liuan? . Its genre is extensive, including five-character and seven-character ancient poems with long ancient rhyme, as well as long and short sentences (words) that stir people's hearts; There are both steady couplets and passionate poems. There are also many Quyi works for singing, which directly serve the political and economic construction of Xishui. Because my brother's creative attitude is rigorous, there are many carefully selected sentences, which is great? Two words for three years, two tears for a song? Everyone's demeanor.

If there is fate in the next life, I still choose to be a disciple of Teacher Zhang without hesitation.

When Mr. Zhang's body was sent to the funeral home, his friends, relatives and students came from all directions. They all remembered this people's teacher with 54 years of teaching experience with a heavy heart. Compassion for others, compassion for others.

In accordance with the teacher's wishes, the mourning hall uses the self-elegiac couplet left by the teacher before his death:

? A teacher who has stood on the podium for 54 years and has no regrets for life; When he is very old, he will go to the west and be bored with old urchins. ?

My teacher is unpretentious all her life. His self-elegiac couplet is so clean, he is a lifelong regretless teacher and an old urchin who never tires. Director funeral committee is Wang Xiong, who was the head of the teacher retirement unit before his death. When Wang Xiong gave me the task of drafting a eulogy, my heart was at a loss again.

Look at Teacher Zhang's mourning hall. Mo, Zhang Kaiqian and Yang, predecessors in the education field and old friends of the teacher, have sent poems to mourn Teacher Zhang, and several directors of the Education Bureau, such as Ge Gongsi, Wang Maojia and He Yong, have come to offer their condolences. This eulogy is like a heavy stone on my heart. Such a respected old man is really full of peaches and plums. What words can I use to commemorate the old man?

So, I gingerly wrote:

Dai Xiaoshan, the earth is full of sadness. At this moment, with great sadness, we are here to serve outstanding people and old teachers? Comrade Zhang Jiyu held a mourning ceremony to solemnly mourn this respected educator who was deeply loved by teachers and students and recognized by the society. All relatives and friends who came to offer their condolences expressed their deep condolences over the death of Teacher Zhang. I would like to express my cordial condolences to his family, and please feel sorry for your loss!

?

Mr. Zhang, 1936 was born in Huayang Village, Changjiu Town, Chishui City on March 25th. 1952 In September, he stepped onto the platform and became an honorable people's teacher. He has worked in Changsha, Guandu, Liangcun, Donghuang and other places, taught Chinese, politics, history and geography, served as a teacher and director of education, and taught primary schools, middle schools, teachers' colleges and universities for the elderly. 1982 After he was discharged from the army, he participated in the establishment of Shu Ren School in Xishui County and persisted in fighting on the three-foot platform until he was 70 years old. After unloading the heavy burden of education and teaching, Mr. Zhang successively served as the vice president of Xishui County Poetry Society and the host of the elderly art troupe, and devoted himself to Xishui education for 54 years.

During his 54-year education career, he loved his school and his life as much as a child year after year, and won the respect and love of teachers and students. In his 54-year education career, he was coaxed and instilled day after day, becoming a benchmark and example that people look up to.

At 9: 00 pm on August 1 Sunday, the farewell ceremony of Teacher Zhang's body was simple and heavy. His friends, teachers' friends, poets' friends, singers' friends, family members, relatives, younger generations and students all bid farewell to Mr. Zhang with deep feelings.

This farewell. Where do you want to see your face? Only by thinking and training can you smell it.

This farewell. The seedlings in the garden were injured and turned into rain; Peach and plum are singing in the autumn wind.

High mountain, how I long to reach you, the sea is silent. I bowed to my teacher's death and felt as if I had knocked over a five-flavor bottle. Recall that in March this year, the spring breeze was blowing peaches, plums and apricots, and I went to my teacher's house on the eve of his birthday. The coffee that Teacher Zhang personally made for me that day turned out to be the last cup of coffee to say goodbye to me.

The teacher wouldn't let me do it myself, and ordered me to sit well. He poured boiling water and added my partner and honey. He said he was diabetic and his children wouldn't allow him to drink any more coffee. But, when we get there, you have to have a drink with me. Holding the coffee that the teacher made for me personally, my heart is sweet. Finally, the teacher's third daughter, Sister Weining, suddenly came. Third sister saw the teacher drinking coffee, and a ray of reprimand flashed in her eyes. Teacher Zhang quickly said, Fu Gang is here. Let me have a drink with him! ? This cup of coffee makes me feel endless guilt. I knew my teacher had diabetes, but I couldn't stop it in time. In order to have a cup of coffee with me, my teacher loves me so warmly with his windless body. Spring breeze in March and hate in March; A clear river, a sad river. In March this year, it was teachers' turn to be eighty and eighty-one. This cup of coffee is my teacher's last farewell gift.

Recalling a teacher's life, besides education, is poetry. He worked hard, spent 54 years in Xia Dong to raise mulberry seedlings, and spent half a century in autumn and winter to write the next classic poem in Daiyue. Think of that year, the mainstay Yao Xingtan; On this day, the stars sink and the moon sets.

Cuckoo cries blood and thunders in the clear sky; The lark groaned and the bad news suddenly took the lead.

Teacher Zhang died suddenly. He loved the gardener's spirit all his life, and his dream of poetry and poetry will never go out. May teacher Zhang go all the way to heaven!