A Teacher I Admire
She was my music teacher.
Confused I did feel when I was at the sixth grade in elementary school, and found no joy in life. My eyes were hollow, and so was my heart. It was the darkest time of mine.
One day, she asked me to stay after school. I feared at that time. Quite scared. “Don’t be afraid,” she said amiably. ”You are a member of the school chorus. I want you to come just for practicing.”
I was soothed, a little. She then started playing the piano, and I sang along. Day by day, we did so.
I began to abandon my sorrow while singing. Sometimes, I almost wanted to weep as a result of being comforted by the enchanting melody.
One day I went there early. She hadn’t come yet, and I was drawn to see a small piece of paper on her desk. It said, “The girl’s eyes are always full of profound melancholy. Maybe music can help her just as it filled my heart with delight….” I raised my head, and met a familiar smile on the face of the teacher I admire, for she saved me without saying a word.
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