love education

Chapter 8 November (2)
Betty, the son of the charcoal worker, had been a student in the class of the governess Dale Caddy.Today, this female teacher came to my house to visit my sick brother.She also told some funny and emotional stories about his experiences.He said that two years ago, Betty's mother had sent her family a large apron full of charcoal because she had given her son a medal.The woman insisted desperately that the teacher would take the charcoal, and would never take it home with her; when she had to take the charcoal home, she cried.The teacher also told us the story of another wonderful mother, who sent her a large bouquet of flowers-with a small bag of copper coins hidden in the flowers.We all listened to the story told by the female teacher with great interest, and my younger brother became much more obedient and swallowed the medicine obediently, something he would never do before.

How much patience it takes to take care of these little ones in the first grade. Some of those little ones don't even have full teeth and can't pronounce r or s clearly, just like old people.After a while, either this one coughed, or that one had a nosebleed, or lost his shoes under the bench, or stabbed himself with a pen and cried, or someone bought the number one exercise book instead of the number two exercise book Books, and all that kind of trouble.

There are 50 students in my brother's class, all of whom are children who can't control their hands, and the teacher must teach them how to write.Their pockets are always filled with strange licorice leaves, various buttons, glass bottles, or broken bricks and other odds and ends.The teachers had to "search" them, but they could even hide the gadgets in their shoes.They never pay attention to the class, even if a fly flies into the window, it can make their little minds ponder for a long time.In the summer they would bring blades of grass and little insects with tentacles, which would fly round and round in the air, and sometimes fall into the inkwell, and splash the exercise-book with streaks of ink.

Facing such students, the female class teachers have to play the role of mother, the mother of everyone.They helped the students dress, bandaged their injured fingers, picked up their hats that they had lost, supervised their dressing, and kept them from meowing or shouting at the top of their lungs.

These poor female teachers, from time to time, have to face the mothers who come to complain:

"What's going on? Teacher, our son has lost his pen. It's okay for him to lose the pen and learn something, but he hasn't even learned knowledge!" Didn't get your compliment?"

"Why is there a nail on Pi Ziluo's stool? Look, his pants are torn. Why don't you nail it in?"

Sometimes my brother's teacher gets mad at her students too, and when she can't take it anymore, she bites her nails to keep herself from hitting them.When she loses patience with them and scolds a naughty child in a fit of rage, she regrets it a moment later and caresses the child she has just scolded.She also drove a naughty child out of the classroom, and then secretly shed tears; she even became furious when she heard some students' parents rudely punishing their children.

Dale Caddy, the teacher, was young, tall, well-groomed, with a sallow complexion, and never idle.She does everything with enthusiasm, as if every day is full of sunshine.She would be deeply moved by a small incident, and her voice would become extra soft and loving each time.

"The children are so close to you!" my mother said to her.

"But at the end of the year, most people don't care about us. Once they have a male teacher, they become ashamed to mention that they were my student - a student of a female teacher. After taking care of both of them After years and so much love for them, it always made me sad to be separated from them, and I used to say to myself, 'I'm sure that student, he likes me.' But at the end of the vacation, the student came back School, I ran to see him, 'Oh my boy, my good boy.' And he turned his head away from me."

The female teacher stared at my brother affectionately, and then said: "But, you can't do that, little thing." She raised her eyes, kissed my brother, and said:

"You wouldn't turn your head away, would you? You wouldn't leave your poor best friend, would you?"

my mother
Thursday the 10th

You didn't show your mother enough respect when your brother's teacher was there!Never let this happen again, never, my Enrico!Your impolite words are like the tip of a needle, piercing straight into my heart.

I remember that just a few years ago, you were seriously ill, and your mother stayed by the hospital bed all night. She bent over your little bed to observe whether your breathing was normal. She shed blood and tears in pain, and even her teeth were broken. rattling with fear.She's scared of losing you and I'm scared she's going to lose her mind because of you, so I'm starting to get scared because of your situation too.And you, at this moment, so offended your mother that she would give up a year of her pleasure for an hour of your pain, she would whisper to God for you, she would give her life to get you back life!
Listen, my Enrico, remember what I have said to you.Come to think of it, you're bound to go through a lot of terrible things in your life, the worst of which is losing your mother.When you've become a real man, strong enough in mind and body to handle whatever fate throws you, you'll think of her thousands of times and long to hear her voice, if only for a moment, Look at her more often, and throw yourself into her arms like a child for comfort and protection.How sorry you would be then to think of every bit of pain you've put her through.
If you let your mother suffer like this, it is impossible for you to enjoy peace and tranquility in your life.You'll regret it, beg her for forgiveness, and cherish every little bit of your time with her, but it won't help.Conscience will never give you peace, your mother's sweet, loving presence will always grieve you, it will keep your heart condemned and never at rest.

Oh, my Enrico, wake up, child, this affection is the most solemn and sacred of all human emotions, and no one who tramples on this affection will find true happiness.Even a killer, as long as he has respect for his mother, there will be some honesty and nobility in his heart; even the most radiant person, if he offends his mother, makes her sad , is also the most contemptible person in the world.

Never say any word that makes her heart hurt to the person who gave you life!
your father
my friend kletti

Sunday 13th

My father forgave me, but there was always a faint feeling of guilt in my heart.To this end, my mother asked me to go for a walk in Khao Sok with the eldest son of the porter.Halfway down the road, we passed a van parked in front of the store when I heard my name being called, and looking back, it was Cletti, a classmate of mine.He was dressed in coffee-colored clothes and that cat-skin hat, and he was sweating all over, and he had a big bundle of wood on his shoulder, but he looked happy.A man stood on top of the cart and handed him bundles of wood, and he took them to his father's shop and stacked them up as fast as he could.

"What are you doing, Cletti?" I asked him.

"Didn't you see?" he replied, reaching out his arm to catch the firewood. "I'm reviewing my homework." I smiled, but he looked very serious. As he ran, he shouted: "The change of verbs is ... that depends on the change of singular and plural ... according to the change of singular and plural and person..." Then he put down the firewood and piled them up again, "More According to the tense, according to the tense of the action." Then he ran back to the wagon to get another bundle of firewood, "and also according to the state of the action."

The rules he babbled about were the grammar we were going to study the next day. "Is there anything I can do for you?" he said. "I'm putting into practice the grammar I've learned. My father is out on business, my mother is ill, and I've got to unload firewood here, and I have to At the same time reviewing my grammar class, today's class is really difficult, I can't remember it."

After unloading the firewood, he said to the man in the truck, "My father said he would come back at seven o'clock and give you the money." After hearing what he said, the driver drove away without saying anything.

"Come and sit in the shop for a while," Crete invited me, and I followed him in.This is a rather large store, filled with piles of firewood, and there are steelyards beside it.

"I must be very busy today, I can assure you." Cletti continued, "I can only do my homework intermittently. When I just wrote the sentence, people kept coming in to see the goods. From time to time I Stopped to do my homework, you saw it, and then the car came, I ran twice this morning to the wood market in Piazza Venezia, my legs hurt so much that I couldn't stand, and my hands were swollen like pickles !” he said, and began sweeping the dry leaves and straw from the floor.These dead branches and leaves covered the brick-paved ground.

"But where do you do your homework, Cletti?" I asked involuntarily.

"Of course not here," he replied. "Come and see," he led me into a small room at the back of the shop, which was used as a kitchen and dining room, and there was a table in one corner with some books and exercise books on it, Of course there was the homework he had just started doing.

"Here it is," he said. "I haven't finished my answer to the second question, 'What are some things made of leather?' I've written part of the answer: leather shoes, and belts, and now I'm going to add Go 'little suitcase'." He picked up the pen again and began to write with his slender fingers.

"Is anyone there?" At this moment, someone came to the store, a woman, who wanted to buy some small bundles of firewood. "Here!" said Cletti, and hurried out, weighed the wood, collected the money, ran to a corner, entered an account in a broken account book, and then turned back to write his book. As he wrote, he said, "See if I can finish this sentence." He went on to write: "Soldier's travel bags and knapsacks."

"Oh, my poor coffee is going to be boiled!" he exclaimed suddenly, and hastening to the fire to take the pot off the fire. "It's coffee for mother," he said, "and I've got to learn how to make coffee, and we'll bring it to her in a minute, and how happy she'll be! She's been sick for a whole week." — Watch out for the verbs in progress! I keep getting my fingers burned by the coffee pot, alas — what can I add to the back of a soldier's backpack? I always feel like I should add something, but I can't think of anything Not coming out, eh—I must go to my mother's."

He opened a door and led us into a small room where Kleti's mother was lying on a large bed with a white kerchief wrapped around her head.

"Oh, isn't this our brave little gentleman," said the woman to me, "you've come to see my sick man, haven't you?" In the middle of speaking, Cletti rearranged the pillow on which his mother was resting. , made the bedding, adjusted the stove to make it burn hotter, and got the cat out of the chest of drawers.

"Is there anything else you want, Mom?" Clay asked, taking the coffee cup from his mother. "Have you had those two spoonfuls of syrup? I'll go over to the apothecary when I've had them all. The wood is all unloaded, and I'll put the meat on the stove at four o'clock—as you ordered Like me, when the butter woman passes by, I will give her the eight copper coins, and I know what to do with everything, so don’t worry about anything.”

"Thank you, my sweet boy!" replied his mother, "Go ahead, dear boy, he's always so thoughtful." His mother insisted that I eat a piece of candy.Then Cletti showed me a small photograph of his father in uniform, with the medal for valor he had won in [-] for his service with Prince Amberto.The faces of the father and son were really carved out of the same mold, with the same cheerful and lively eyes and the same bright smile.

We are back in the kitchen. "I thought of something to add," Cletti said. "The ornaments on the horse are also made of leather. I will do the rest of my homework at night, and I may have to stay up late. How happy you are, Enrico I have time to do my homework and go for a walk!" He still looks so happy and active.He went into the shop again, and began to put the pieces of firewood on the stand to be sawed off, and said:
"For me, it's gymnastics, it's not the same as the normal way of raising your hands forward. How happy my father would be if he came home and saw the logs. But the worst thing is Well, when I finish sawing the logs, I write letters crooked like snakes, that's what the teacher said, what should I do? I have to tell him it's because I have to stretch my arms back and forth. Ugh , the most important thing is for my mother to get better soon, thank God, she is better today. I will learn grammar tomorrow morning, I will be up at dawn, hey, the log truck is here, I have to go to work .”

A small wagon full of logs had stopped at the door of the shop, and Cletti ran out to speak to the owner of the wagon, and then came back and said, "I can't stay with you any longer," he said, "then See you tomorrow, you came here at the right time, just bumped into me, hey, have a nice walk, you always happy guy!" He squeezed my hand and went to fetch the first log , and back and forth between the car and the store again, his face as red as a rose under his pussy cap, so conspicuous that everyone liked to stare at his little face. Look at your face more.

"Happy fellow!" he said to me.

(End of this chapter)