A 6th grade student's touching essay for his teacher: "You're here, I'm not afraid anymore!"

(NLDO) - My achievements today are thanks to her enthusiastic lectures during the years I was lucky enough to have her as my homeroom teacher.

Early morning of the new school year, the 2025-2026 school year, the mist was still hanging lightly like a thin veil embracing the mountains and forests, the Northwest village where I was born and raised. I heard my mother's voice calling: "My 6th grade student, wake up and go to school." My mother's affectionate call woke me up. That's right, I was in a new class, a new level. I was no longer a primary school girl at the beloved primary school located next to the Nam Pan stream that babbled day and night. I could no longer meet my aunt - Ms. Dinh Thi Hoa, the homeroom teacher for 3 years at Hat Lot town primary school (Mai Son commune, Son La province).

A second mother with special care

I am still not used to the new classroom and teachers. Every day, cycling to school, passing through the gate of the school where I spent 5 years of primary school with so many dear memories, makes me miss my aunt so much. The aunt, the second mother that I love and respect, is always engraved in my heart.

Autumn, the season of joy, the season of excitement and happiness when we attended the Opening Ceremony at the district's specialized school that any 5th grade student dreams of entering. I was also one of 140 students who passed the entrance exam. And to have that outstanding achievement, I will never forget the dedication, devotion and enthusiasm that Ms. Dinh Thi Hoa - my homeroom teacher gave to the quiet, shy student. That student is me today, strong and loves to participate in school activities...

Because of my shyness and quiet personality, from the very first days when Ms. Hoa took over as our homeroom teacher, I still had no impression of her. My teacher still taught Vietnamese lessons every day, making me always admire: "Our Vietnamese language is so rich and beautiful", but math lessons seemed not to be my strong point. I was still like my friends, listening attentively to her lectures, and with difficult exercises, she often said: "If you don't understand any exercises, just ask me." But because I was afraid and shy of her, I never dared to ask her for lessons.

Then, until the end of the winter school day of my third grade year, that would be the most memorable school day and also the school day that marked the increasingly strong teacher-student relationship. The school bell rang to signal the end of the day, when the students all left in a hurry, only me and my teacher were left in the classroom. I helped her close the windows because the cold winds of the Northwest winter were coming. It was getting dark very quickly, I was a bit worried and scared. Seeing that I was still in class, Ms. Hoa immediately asked: "Haven't you gone home yet? Is your mother late to pick you up today?" As if waiting for her to ask, all the grievances burst out, pouring out with two streams of tears, I sobbed: "My mother couldn't come to pick me up, she had to go to a school in the highlands of Bien Gioi commune for 3 months. She said her school was very far away so she couldn't go home in one day. I waited for my grandmother to pick me up. She said she would be late to pick me up today because she had to go to the city to see a doctor..."

Teacher Dinh Thi Hoa whom the author loves

She hugged me, comforted me, waited for my sobbing to pass, and smiled gently: "Then Ms. Hoa will wait for you with Tue. I'm here, don't be afraid anymore." At that moment, through her smile and affectionate gaze, I saw that my aunt was very close, friendly, and open. Then she used her hand to stroke my long, somewhat tangled hair, and braided it for me. On the way home, I told my grandmother what my aunt and I had talked about that late winter afternoon. And I listened to her advice: "Don't cry when your mother gets on the bus to go to work, she will be sad and worry about you a lot. She won't be able to work with peace of mind when you're so weak at home."

Portrait of the author of the article, currently a 6th grade student at a secondary school in Son La

Since that afternoon, I was no longer afraid of math class. I listened more attentively to her lecture. Her voice was clear and would slow down if she saw that we were still confused. During Vietnamese class, her voice became more expressive, especially when she read poetry, her voice rose high like a song, blending with the murmuring sound of the Nam Pan stream. For the first time, I boldly asked her about the parts I didn't understand. I volunteered to go to the board to do the work, even though there were still some mistakes, but she still praised me: "Tue has made progress". Her words of encouragement made my heart dance, I was happy and wanted to go home quickly to show off to my grandmother, call my mother to tell her that my efforts had been recognized by her...

"Pressure makes diamonds"

Received her trust and the trust of my friends. For the first time after three years of primary school, I was elected by my friends as group leader and then vice-president of the class. Looking up at her, I felt the encouragement: "Try hard, you can do it" through her smiling eyes that always gave me warmth. Then in the middle of the second semester of that school year, she made a list of students participating in the school-level excellent student exam in two subjects: Vietnamese and Math on paper. Seeing that I did not register to participate, she came to me, put her hand on her shoulder gently: "Tue, you should also take the exam, consider this a playground to test your strength." And I participated in response to her enthusiastic encouragement.

As a result, my name was not on the list of winners. I was sad, disappointed, and self-conscious. She encouraged those who did not win the prize like me, and said, her eyes seemed to linger on me longer: "Failure is the mother of success. Don't be discouraged, kids. Next year, you can participate again, I believe you can do it." I always remember her teachings and her diligence and perseverance. Because for a long time, I considered her as my second mother. In my heart, Ms. Hoa is the most wonderful and beloved homeroom teacher.

The 5th grade excellent student exam was held right at the end of the school year. During nearly four weeks of studying, in the afternoon and even after school, my teacher still tried to stay behind to review for the team of 15 students in the class, including me, with the most enthusiasm. However, when the results came out, I was still one of the 5 students in the class who did not win a prize. She did not announce the results in class but through the year-end parent meeting. Besides the achievement of me being an Excellent Student at the end of the year, I still had great sadness. Right after the announcement, my mother burst into tears. I was disappointed and ashamed that with her enthusiasm and dedication, we had disappointed her.

The author's class 5C is led and mentored by Ms. Hoa.

Mom's phone rang, the screen was my aunt's name, Mom knew she was calling me so she transferred the call. As soon as I heard her voice, I felt choked up. Her voice was warm and gentle: "I know my Tue is very sad, it's just that you're not lucky. There are three more weeks until you take the entrance exam to a specialized school, don't give up. Shine in your own way. I will accompany you. Pressure creates diamonds..."

I pulled myself together and embarked on a 20-day journey of free review by her every morning in class. Every break time, when she saw me sitting under the Royal Poinciana tree, she would sit down and chat with us, she would put her arm around me and pat my head to encourage me. And finally, her belief in me came true. On the day the results of the entrance exam to the specialized school came out, she was the one who informed my mother and sent the list of successful candidates. My name was at position 128 out of 140 students. On the other end of the line, I could hear her voice trembling, it seemed like she was crying. She cried because she was happy, she cried because her journey of motivating students like me had come true. As for me, I felt my heart beating faster, I was filled with joy and happiness. I also cried because I had done it.

Even though I will never be able to return to my elementary school years and listen to her profound lectures, I know that Ms. Hoa will always be the person I respect and love. An aunt with a mother's heart full of tolerance who always teaches us lessons about solidarity, love, and how to "enrich ourselves": smile, give, and forgive. An aunt has devoted all the most beautiful things to give wings to my dreams to always fly high and far.

Source: https://nld.com.vn/bai-viet-cam-dong-cua-hoc-sinh-lop-6-danh-cho-co-giao-co-o-day-khong-con-so-nua-196251029150944045.htm