Think back to my teacher's composition in the second day of junior high school.

Whether in school or in society, we often see the figure of composition. According to different genres, composition can be divided into narrative, expository, practical and argumentative. I believe many friends are very upset about writing a composition. The following is my carefully compiled teacher's second grade composition memories (selected 10) for your reference, hoping to help friends in need.

Recalling the teacher's second-grade composition 1, standing on the school runway in March, the wind gently brushed my cheeks and blew trivial memories into my mind.

I still remember that day, the day when we broke up with our teacher. I only remember very clearly that Teacher Yang said that we should study hard and make progress every day. He always does this to us. He didn't scold us, but he just hoped that we could repay our parents with good grades, especially since he had different feelings for me and me.

Perhaps it can be said that my father wanted someone to rely on when I failed the exam and was very tired, but he didn't want to show his softness. However, Miss Yang always finds me. How many conversations have made me not tired, how many conversations have rekindled my fighting spirit, and how many conversations have made me mistakenly think that he is my father. Besides talking, he also helps me with my lessons at noon every day. In fact, I know very well that he is very tired, and sometimes he even falls asleep at his desk. Such teachers are still sticking to their posts and making great progress. Isn't this the best embodiment of a gardener?

Remember the section about physical education class? We dragged our teacher to class with us, and he came to the playground with us. As a result, we were punished for that class. The scorching sun scorched the earth, and everyone's patience reached its limit. Anger and irritability in my heart continued to rise, and so did Miss Yang, but she still accompanied us to make punishment. After class, Mr. Yang immediately came over and asked us what we could do. Tired or not, our mood immediately improved.

If it weren't for Mr. Yang, I wouldn't be here today. He improved my grades and made me confident, optimistic and cheerful. Standing on the runway, the wind woke me up. I'm going to give it a try and repay Mr. Yang with the best honor!

Memories of the second grade teacher's composition in 26 hurried by, and she stepped into the door of junior high school in a blink of an eye. What does this mean? This means that I bid farewell to the primary school teacher. Go to another ocean of knowledge to explore. At this time, I will miss my primary school teacher from time to time. They gave me care and encouragement, and let me know how to cherish.

It's the first time to enter the primary school classroom, and I'm very timid. I am afraid of meeting strangers and feel uneasy. The bell rang, and the teacher came to the classroom with a bright smile and a textbook. My heart jumped suddenly, fearing that the teacher would see me. At this time, the teacher called my name and asked me to get up and read a text. All eyes were fixed on me, and I was afraid to catch my breath. I just stood there like a fool. I looked down and remained silent. The teacher looked at me tenderly and said, "Don't be afraid. I'll read it first and you read it later, okay? " I didn't answer, just nodded like a robot. At this time, the teacher read loudly and sweetly, but when it was my turn, my voice couldn't even hear what I was saying.

Finally, after reading it, I was still standing there, and the teacher came over and smiled, which I will never forget. To my surprise, the teacher gave me a shining red star and said, "Come on! Look up. " I seem to be attracted by a kind of magic. I looked up and saw that smile.

Now I have left my primary school teachers, but I will never forget them. They taught me the basics, taught me. Their voices and smiles will be deeply imprinted on my mind. Here, I say to my primary school teacher, "Thank you!" " "

Recalling the teacher's second grade composition 3 In my sixth grade primary school life, many interesting and touching things happened between me and my teachers and classmates, which I will never forget. Today, I will choose a touching thing that happened with my teacher, Miss Wang, to share with you.

It was a hot summer, and the students were sweating like a pig. "Rinrin-"The bell rang. The students walked into the classroom quickly, and my deskmate was no exception. Look, he hurried into the classroom, sat in his seat, accidentally stepped on my toe, but pretended as if nothing had happened, took out his textbook and waited for Mr. Wang to come to class.

Suddenly I felt a little pain on my feet, and looked down at my feet, only to find that my toes were stepped on by my deskmate and red blood was oozing out. At that time, I was as anxious as a cat on hot bricks, and I was in a rash, and I was so anxious that I didn't know what to do.

At this moment, I heard the familiar footsteps in my ear. Ah! It's Miss Wang. I saw Mr. Wang come up to me, looked at my wound, and then kindly said to me, "Never mind, don't worry, come on, put this on, and it will be fine in a couple of days." Say, take out a band-aid from my bag and pass it to me. I solemnly took the band-aid from the teacher. Before I could say thank you, Mr. Wang had stood on the podium and was ready for class.

Ah! This is really a timely help!

The teacher's comforting words are like lighthouses, pointing me the way forward. Ah, Miss Wang, thank you for your help in my study over the years, and for your meticulous care and care in my life. I love you!

Recall my second grade teacher's composition 4. When you are confused, who opened your heart? When you are angry, who guides your emotions? Maybe some classmates will say it's mom and dad, grandparents, but we always ignore some obscure and hard-working people who love you like mom and dad, grandparents, but do you feel it? who the hell are all these people？ Teacher. Now we, like fledgling birds, have the desire to escape, but have no heart to come back.

I remember that time, probably in the third grade, but we just came into contact with English about colors, and we never understood colors. Our humorous young English teacher smiled and said to us, "What color is the sea?" We speak with the same voice in childish language; "Blue." The teacher gave us a calm smile again. She cocked her head and asked, "Do you know why the sea is blue?" This stumped us. As for me, I never missed a chance to show off my cleverness, so I recited a passage from Children's Encyclopedia. I thought the teacher would praise us, but it didn't. I asked the teacher inexplicably, "Why is that?" The teacher whispered to us, "It's because of the fish!" "Fish?" We all put big question marks one by one, and the teacher said, "How do fish spit bubbles?" When we think of it, we all laugh, because fish spit bubbles and the word "blue" sound the same. It is always because we can't remember this word that we have such ulterior motives. We are all very touched.

Teachers are like this, treating us like parents. This little touch can benefit us for life. Thank you, teacher!

Looking back on my second grade teacher's composition, the annual Teacher's Day is coming. At this moment, I remembered my primary school teacher. Her name was Jiang Zhiying. She is my Chinese teacher and my head teacher.

She has blonde hair and big shining eyes. She is 36 years old and her height is 1.75 meters. Not fat or angular. I like her very much.

I remember that she only transferred to teach our Chinese class in the second grade of primary school. At first, I thought she was a fierce teacher. So in her class, I hardly raise my hand to answer questions, for fear that I might make a mistake and she would severely criticize me. But after a while, I gradually found that she was not as strict as I thought. Therefore, I often raise my hand to answer questions. Although the answer is not very accurate, Mr. Jiang will praise and encourage me. After a period of hard work, my Chinese scores are getting better and better!

Time flies, time flies. In a blink of an eye, I am already a sixth-grade student. Study and life are getting more and more tense. So the course of Chinese has become more and more difficult with the passage of time. I wanted to give up this course and spend more time studying math and English instead of wasting more time on Chinese. However, Mr. Jiang encouraged me not to neglect the Chinese course. Later, after being persuaded by Teacher Jiang, I studied Chinese seriously. Through the efforts of Mr. Jiang and me, my Chinese graduation exam results can be improved.

Although I went to junior high school, I didn't forget what Mr. Jiang expected of me. I want to study hard now and try to get into a good high school and university. When I grow up, I will repay my motherland. Twenty years later, I will prove my strength with brilliant achievements. Let others look at Mr. Jiang with new eyes! Teacher Jiang can also be proud of me!

Recalling my teacher's composition in the second day of junior high school, the teacher is a hard gardener, working hard for the future of the motherland, and they have no regrets no matter how hard and tired they are.

Teachers selflessly impart what they know to us. Look, the white hair has quietly left a mark on her sideburns. It was late at night, and when we were resting, the teacher was still correcting homework under the lamp. Teachers spend most of their time on us, but we don't know how much they care about their families ... and cultivate the future of the motherland, and they have no regrets no matter how hard and tired they are. ...

Our Chinese teacher deserves my respect most. Her surname is Zeng, and all her classmates address her as. In her class, the students listen carefully and take notes. Ceng Laoshi kept his promise. If her classmates do something wrong, she always makes sense to them and makes them realize their mistakes. If students encounter problems that they don't understand or understand, he always teaches them modestly until they have understood or understood the problems. Ceng Laoshi is also very concerned about our daily life. She won't let us eat "three noes" food. Let us feel her concern for us. She treats us like her own children and is fair to every student. She never discriminates against poor students. She is always so relaxed and lively in class, which makes us deeply fall in love with Chinese class.

Teachers work very hard. When students have difficulties, teachers will help them make up lessons. Teachers love labor and life very much. When they get up in the morning and come to school and see that we haven't cleaned up the clean and tidy classroom, they will say helplessly, "Look, you children ..." After the voice fell, the teacher picked up the broom and began to clean the classroom. You see, the teacher, waving a broom, is not afraid to dirty her clean and beautiful dress, and then drags the classroom and corridor to the ground with a mop, and the teacher will smile sweetly. Hee hee.

This is the Chinese teacher who has been with me for three years, a teacher worthy of my respect and admiration. Although we are far apart, it seems that I am still in Grade Three, and I am still roaming in the ocean of Ceng Laoshi!

Every time I graduate, I remember the composition of the second grade teacher, and I will remember the teacher by heart. This time, I remembered my first-grade Chinese teacher, who took me into the world of literature and the world of mind.

I have always been an introverted child, afraid to communicate with others, afraid to be friends with others, and even afraid to talk to teachers. However, it is such a me that was seen by my Chinese teacher in senior one, and she extended a warm hand to me. She often chats with me and helps me revise my composition. My composition was not well written in our class, but she read it carefully and revised it again. When I asked the teacher, "Why is the teacher so kind to me?" Sometimes, the teacher just smiles and says he likes me as a student.

Until this Chinese teacher left our school for a job transfer and went to a far place, she wrote to tell me: "Because she saw me, it was like seeing herself." That's the reason. The teacher has always been very concerned about me. She knows why I am too introverted to communicate with others. She knows my secret.

This teacher taught me how to talk to myself with a diary, and also taught me how to communicate with the world. She didn't let me touch anyone. She just asked me to observe life with my heart. She taught me to look at the sky, the earth, the rivers and mountains, and the clouds floating above us. She said that they all talked, but few people listened. She said little trees can talk, but we didn't talk to them. She said that the sunset glow was dancing for us, which was also a colorful dream. Everything the teacher said opened the world, not only the world of literature, but also the world of my heart, which made me know the secret of life when I was in contact with heaven and earth.

Now I still write to this teacher occasionally, and I will continue to write to her in the future, but after all, she appears as my junior high school teacher. When I graduate from junior high school, I want to recall my association with her in advance.

Recalling my teacher's composition No.8 in Grade Two, I sneaked into the night with the wind and moistened things silently.

Teacher, what a gentle sentence. Because in my memory, the teacher has always existed as a gentle image. In my primary school, I met a Chinese teacher with a deep bachelor's degree, who has been guiding me. ...

She has Ming Che's eyes, like stars in the autumn sky. Although those eyes are faint, they are sincere and straightforward. She is not as beautiful as a flower, but I still can't forget his face.

That day, the sky was gloomy and it made people feel heavy. I still remember that many questions were written wrong in the exam last week, and I was very annoyed. It happened to be a Chinese class. I thought the Chinese teacher wouldn't hand out papers! Then he will announce his achievements in class. What if he doesn't do well in the exam I thought a lot of questions.

Sure enough, the paper was handed out in the way I imagined, and I only got 86 points out of 100. At that time, I just wanted to find a hole to get into, and my face was too ugly to look directly into the eyes of the Chinese teacher. Suddenly, a cry came through the glass and surprised me: "Zhou Tianyu, stand up." That's it. The Chinese teacher must think I didn't do well in the exam. "Do you also feel that you didn't do well in the exam? It doesn't really matter. Water flows downwards and people go upwards. Even if you don't do well in this exam, it doesn't matter. As long as you have a positive and tenacious heart and the courage to start again after failure, there is still a chance. " What the Chinese teacher said touched me deeply.

From then on, before every exam, I always told myself to try my best to get the best grades, to have confidence in myself, to be optimistic and to reflect on my mistakes.

The encouragement given by the primary school teacher has benefited me for life. In fact, the Chinese teacher was not angry at that time because I didn't do well in the exam. He wants me to face up to the exam, be optimistic about things like the exam, and have the courage to start again after failing.

In July, we graduated, and I said goodbye to the Chinese teacher. Now, I remember her again.

I remember the teacher's composition in the second day of junior high school. I remember that after the first day of military training, the school arranged a meeting between new teachers and classmates. What impressed me the most was my Chinese teacher Zhang.

That day, she walked into the classroom with a brisk and powerful pace and a smile-warm applause suddenly broke out under the podium. The teacher's eyes are full of smiles: "Hello, classmates! If these soldiers and horses haven't arrived yet, the grain and grass will go first! "

This little detail touched my heart. She has a generous manner without any affectation. I think he must be a knowledgeable and persuasive tutor!

The teacher has his own righteousness and is very bold. We can often see a serious-looking man with a handbag in his left hand and a book in his right hand, striding down the corridor with his head held high. This is my Chinese teacher.

My teacher has a spirit of "how to move the water of the Yellow River out of the sky" when evaluating homework. She has a pen in one hand and a paper in the other. A wrong stroke and an inappropriate punctuation mark may be caught by those "sinister" eyes. "pa!" Well, a very elegant big hook on the paper; "pa!" Wrong, this homework has been put aside, ready to comment in class. What a heroine!

Teachers are responsible mentors. She keeps a diary every day, but her classmates are sighing. But have you thought about it? Everyone just writes their own copy, but teacher Zhang has to approve 96 copies in two classes!

She often says, "We must love Chinese and life! The more you are afraid of writing, the less you can write. The less you can write, the more afraid you are of writing. So be sure to write and practice. When you are no longer afraid of Chinese, your grades will improve. " Teacher Zhang's words are often recalled in my ear.

Although it is a holiday, Teacher Zhang has never slacked off. Every day, she uses WeChat to supervise the "nail house of Chinese homework", correct homework and pay close attention to their study. Even if you travel and feel a different life, let us know so as not to make the students wait anxiously. What reason can we not cherish such a teacher?

My Chinese teacher is generous, energetic and conscientious.

Recalling the teacher's composition 10 "Writing against the trend ..." when I think of Teacher Jiang, the familiar and vicissitudes voice will always ring in my ears.

When I was nine years old, an 80-year-old man lived in my neighbor's house. He is of medium height, with dark skin and some spots on his face. He is teacher Jiang. I heard that his handwriting is very good.

One day, he came to my house. I was doing my homework then. Looking back, I saw him standing behind me and smiling. He picked up my exercise book and laughed while studying. Then he kindly asked me if I wanted to practice my handwriting. I agreed without thinking too much.

When I first came to Mr. Jiang's house, he led me into the study and sat me down at a clean desk. There is a fringed paper on the table, a writing brush next to it, and a small plate with ink.

"Come on, I'll teach you to write horizontal lines first." Teacher Jiang took my hand and explained while writing, "When you start writing, you should lift it first, then press it to the lower right, and finally go back." I'm tired of listening and clamoring to write it myself. "Yes, I'll give you a try." Teacher Jiang smiled and let go. Who knows that it seems easier to do than to do? The writing brush doesn't work at all in my hand. As soon as the pen tip falls on the paper, it trembles. I wrote several times in a row, but none of them were decent. I threw my pen on the table and shouted angrily, "I don't want to write." I never want to learn China's calligraphy again. "

Teacher Jiang picked up a brush, touched my head and said kindly, "No one can write calligraphy well at the beginning,' everything is difficult at the beginning'. Tell you what, the teacher will write you a brush character and take it home and paint it red, ok? " I nodded and went home with the words written by the teacher.

Later, I studied calligraphy with Mr. Jiang until his old man died. Now my brush strokes are often exhibited at school. I think if Mr. Jiang were still here, I would be very happy to hear such news.