In retrospect, it was twelve years ago. At that time, I was still in the first grade. At that time, I was in the sixth class, whether it is the main subject or secondary subjects, our performance class is first-class. Therefore, every teacher did class, all like to use our class to speak. This is not, the music teacher and found us, said to take us to the city to speak a class, we heard the happy to agree.
The day we did the lesson, we came to a very large classroom, which has many, many teachers to listen to the lesson. We were shocked at what we saw, but after we stabilized our emotions, we felt that there was nothing to be afraid of. We got ready and were about to start.
At first, we practiced our vocalizations with the teacher. We started with the "i" and "u" sounds. The students practiced very hard. Some of them were sweating, some of them turned their faces into red apples, and some of them couldn't breathe. Then, we practiced a few more sets of sound connections. There were high voices and low voices. We sang very accurately no matter which voice part we sang, almost as good as the piano.
Then we learned a new lesson, learning to sing the Pioneer Song. The teacher was up there talking about it in a colorful way. At first, he wrote out the sheet music with chalk, and then talked about the key parts of the song. He also drew the key parts as he talked. After he finished, the teacher played the piano and taught the song one step at a time. When there were some parts that were difficult, the teacher sang more, fearing that we wouldn't know them. If there are some simple parts, the teacher will sing less and pass them by. The teacher not only taught us well, but we also worked well together. We all listened to the teacher's instructions. When the teacher talks, we memorize. When the teacher sings, we stop writing and listen carefully to the subtleties. When the teacher wants us to sing, we will be the most loud and clear voice, to sing.
In this way, we quickly learned the song and were able to sing it well. It was almost time for class to end and we had to do our post-singing. The students were all pumped up, and as the teacher's music played, we began to sing. I could only hear the song flying and floating in the whole classroom. All the teachers present seemed to be intoxicated. Some teachers, closing their eyes, savored it. Some teachers even played the beat in their hands. Some teachers even sang along with us. The song sounded for a long time before stopping, followed by a tidal wave of applause, which is the applause, proved our success, and our victory.
That class was the most memorable for me, because not only did we achieve success, but more importantly, it taught us that cooperation is a guarantee of success. I, a rural child living in the mountains, fortunately mom and dad are teachers. Dad has a special love of books, I also like to read books because of the daily influence, and it is precisely this that brought me an unforgettable experience.
It was a Sunday when I was in fifth grade and the sun was shining. Outside the house on the tree, the cicadas "know, know," calling endlessly, I habitually to my father's bookshelf to look for books. "Yell! The Nobel Literature Collection, did dad put it in quietly?" Driven by curiosity, I opened the first page, which was densely filled with the names of the winners, but I searched and searched and searched, but there was not a single Chinese name, and I asked my father suspiciously, "How is it that there is not a single Chinese name on it?"
At this point, my father did not answer me immediately, only to see a trace of rare gravity on his face. After a while, he said seriously, "That's the list of Nobel Prize in Literature winners, but so far not a single Chinese person has been listed among them." Hearing this, I immediately said confidently, "Then let me be the first person in Chinese literature." Dad looked at me, "That's going to take a lot of hard work, aren't you afraid?"
"Not afraid!"
"Okay, dad wishes you success!"
The next day, moved to exactly one theme class meeting, the theme is "my ideal". After the teacher's introductory remarks, it was the turn of each student to reveal his or her own heart. At first, we all seem to have never been out of the big girl, shy, wriggling, a push one. Seeing this situation, the teacher let us in order to speak: Xiaoming got up and said: "My ideal is to be a soldier, to defend the territory of the motherland, standing on the honorable border post. The students immediately gave a warm applause. Xiaojun said his ideal is to be a painter, to travel the world's famous mountains and rivers, and to paint the most exquisite scrolls on earth. As soon as the words left his mouth, there was another round of applause, one after another. It was my turn next. I was a little nervous about this instead.
"Zhao Liu Hao!" The teacher called
I stood up, straightened my lapel, fixed my mind, and said loudly, "My ideal is to be the first person in Chinese literature, the first Chinese writer to win the Nobel Prize." Perhaps my words shocked the audience, all of a sudden, dozens of eyes shot at me, followed by a piercing laughter, making me uncomfortable, but I forced myself to calm down, ready to continue to state my point of view, but when I opened my mouth, my ears ringing with sarcasm again.
"It's just him, and he wants to be a phoenix from a clay chicken."
"That's right, you really take yourself as a green onion"
A wave has not yet subsided, a wave has arisen again, I can not help but embarrassment I can not help but mutter in my heart: "'earth chicken' what happened? What's wrong with the 'Phoenix'? Why can others become a phoenix, why can't I?" My chest of anger seems to explode, but reason allows me to calm down again, ready to argue again, "Ding bell" bell rang, the teacher made a brief comment, the students peaked out. I seem to be stuck in the throat words, stuck in the seat, a face of disbelief, fists slammed heavily on the table.
This is, a warm big hand on my shoulder, I twisted back, is the class teacher, only to see him smiling and said: "Do not be angry, the teacher believes in you, come on!"
"Uh-huh!" Listening to the teacher's kind words, I was touched and even answered. The teacher's encouragement at once soothed my wounded heart just now. I secretly resolved: I will succeed!
Now, almost two years have passed since the incident, and I have started a new middle school life. However, the impulse of my childhood, the embarrassing ridicule, and that deep love is still engraved in my heart. Because it is like a bright light, illuminated my heart.