Thank you, teacher!

November has arrived, bringing with it a chilly breeze. The rising sun signals the coming of winter. I don't know if it's the change in weather that makes me feel so wistful, or if it's the upcoming Teacher Appreciation Day that stirs my emotions.

Everyone has a time when they went to school twice a day, and everyone has unforgettable memories with teachers who left an indelible impression on their minds. Therefore, every time November comes around, every time Teacher Appreciation Day approaches, our hearts tremble with nostalgia for those old days.

Back then, at our village school, we sat and listened to our teacher's insightful lectures. He introduced us to literary works, to the values of truth, goodness, and beauty that writers wanted to convey. There were characters like Hộ, Huấn Cao, Chí Phèo, and Kiều – a talented woman who also faced many hardships… I don't understand why he chose to study literature when this subject was mostly taught by female teachers. His voice was warm and gentle. His face was refined and pleasant to look at. He became a favorite among the female students, not only for his good looks but also for his excellent teaching.

Under the roof of our small school, the teacher diligently guided generations of students day and night. Especially for our team of gifted students, we had to study every afternoon for the competition. The teacher was quite strict and often had high expectations. For the gifted students studying, he set very demanding requirements, so sometimes we had to copy over a dozen pages of student notes in one afternoon. We had to complete the assignments he gave us in the evening, or we would get scolded. Yet, we never got angry with him; we always gathered around to chat with him like friends. During those times, he would often joke around, as if he were a completely different person from his usual self.

Then we graduated, each choosing our own path. For the first few years after graduation, we would gather to visit our teacher every November 20th, but then we gradually lost contact, and in the end, all that remained were sweet memories of our school days in white uniforms. Surprisingly, when I recently reconnected with him on Facebook, he still remembered my name, still remembered his stubborn former student who openly defied him simply because he never gave me a perfect score like the others. He explained that I was arrogant, and if he gave me a perfect score, I would become conceited and stop striving. Now I understand that his heart is as vast as a mother's ocean; he never scolded his students but always paid attention to each student's personality to guide them well.

I suddenly thought to myself, teachers are always like that, always "quietly coming and going early in the morning and at noon," always silently protecting their students, finding ways to guide them to become good people. Teachers may not have given us life and nurtured us like our parents, but they have taught us to be good people. These teachers leave a deep impression on their students' hearts for a lifetime, forever etched in the hearts of generations of students with profound gratitude.

When November 20th (Teachers' Day) approaches, the streets are filled with flowers, reminding us of our gratitude to our teachers. A feeling of nostalgia washes over us, and we wonder if our teachers still remember their former students. Friends are scattered far and wide; if only we could keep in touch, we'd make plans to return to our old school, to see our teachers, and reminisce about our mischievous school days. Just thinking about it fills our hearts with a flood of loving emotions. It turns out that our teachers sowed seeds of gratitude in our hearts back then, and now those seeds have grown into trees. These trees still remember the planters, still yearn to return to their roots, just to visit and ask: "Teacher, do you still remember me?" And we know for sure that they'll smile and say: "How could I forget you, teacher?"

November 20th is here again this year. Flowers are everywhere. I quietly called to order a bouquet to be delivered to the school for my teacher. Teacher, it seems I've missed another chance to celebrate winter, to celebrate November 20th, and to visit my old school and you again. But, forever in my heart, I will always remember your kindness, the one who introduced me to the love of literature, who made me yearn to travel, to live, and to write. Thank you, teacher!

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