Traditional Culture Encyclopedia - Weather forecast - My teacher's composition is 300 words. My teacher's composition
My teacher's composition is 300 words. My teacher's composition
I remember it was a summer a year ago, and we were waiting for the teacher to come to class. Suddenly, a thunderbolt outside the window broke the silence of summer, stopping time, lightning and thunder, and the wind was blowing hard, as if it were going to fall. There was another loud noise, and the "black pot" was cut open, and the rainstorm poured down like a waterfall. Raindrops shot at the earth like bullets ... we all picked up books and taught ourselves in despair. Soon, despite the rain, the teacher came. Suddenly, there was thunderous applause in the classroom. "Sorry, classmate, I'm late today. Can you forgive me? " Looking at the teacher's wet hair and clothes wet by rain, I was excited and distressed ... I remembered them all. The teacher took out his textbook and gave us a lesson. She is so amiable. That kind voice warms us like a mother ... it rains cats and dogs outside the window, but the classroom is full of literary heart ... For four or five years, the teacher has never missed half a class for us. This is our teacher, a conscientious teacher, a great and ordinary teacher!
Teachers not only love their work, but also care about their students as much as their children.
It was the final exam. I was so nervous that I made an old mistake-spasm. At this time, the teacher had just finished correcting a thick pile of homework. As soon as she saw it, she couldn't take care of her tired body for a day. She resolutely carried my tired body of more than 30 kilograms and went straight to the doctor. On the way, I fell on my teacher's broad shoulders, only to feel a warm current echoing in my heart. It was a hot summer day, and there was no wind all day. Sweat rolled down from her forehead. The teacher stopped suddenly. "Xiao Wei, please hold on a little longer, it will come soon." The teacher asked with concern. From her tone, I could feel that she was trying to restrain her shortness of breath. I bit my lower lip tightly, fought back my tears and nodded. The teacher picked me up again and walked forward step by step in the hot sun ... why did the teacher work so hard? Why ... the sun is burning! You hide, don't let our teacher worry any more; Wind! Blow it, blow away the teacher's fatigue, and don't let her suffer any more ... This is our teacher, a teacher who loves students like children, a great and ordinary teacher!
Ah! This is our teacher, who has devoted her life selflessly. He is ordinary, but not ordinary. I love my teacher, but I love her greatness more!
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