"16号，擦黑板女生怦怦地走上讲台，拿起宛如千斤重的黑板擦，黑板上留下的模糊不清的字迹写满了她的怨恨，"讨厌，粉笔灰弄得满头都是。"她喃喃自语地从我身边走过，我不禁心一颤，被她那句宛如寒风般的话割伤，我的心好痛好痛……
&On the 16th, the girl who wiped the blackboard thumped up to the podium and picked up the blackboard eraser which was like a kilogram of weight. The vague handwriting left on the blackboard was filled with her resentment. &I can't help shivering when she passed me muttering. I was cut by her words like a cold wind. My heart hurts so much
粉笔灰讨厌吗？难道粉笔牺牲自己的精神震撼吗？言尽于此，我不禁想起了伟大的人--教师。
Is chalk dust annoying? Can chalk sacrifice its own spiritual shock? At this point, I can't help but think of the great man - the teacher.
教师，多么神圣的职业，它像蜡烛、粉笔一样伟大，手握粉笔写出了对学生们无尽的爱，对学生倾囊相授的知识和无言的关怀，就是不写那句"我是伟大的人"。教师默默奉献，正如粉笔将自己的一生印在黑板上，留下了些许的无奈。惆怅，光阴似箭，岁月不饶人，我想多为教育事业奉献，还有许多孩子正用渴望的目光盯着我，我不想这么早离开岗位……
Teacher, what a sacred profession, it is as great as candle and chalk. Holding chalk in hand, it writes endless love for students, knowledge and wordless care for students, that is, not to write that sentence & quot; I am a great person & quot;. The teacher silently dedicates, just as chalk prints his life on the blackboard, leaving some helplessness. Melancholy, time flies like an arrow, the years are unforgiving, I want to contribute more to the cause of education, there are many children staring at me with eager eyes, I don't want to leave my post so early
教师是圣人也是人，额头上出现了道道皱纹，我知道那是被一把叫做"担忧"的刀雕刻成的。同样的，粉笔灰也在教师头发上久久盘旋，不肯离去，仿佛他们是一体的，每个教师都是一位天使，但是为了孩子们，他们藏起了飞向天宫的翅膀，在人间逗留。为了学生，他们呕心沥血地批改作业，为了学生手中的成绩单，他们不喋不休地翻练习题，复印给学生，为了党的教育事业，他们双鬓斑白，苍颜白发，仍不辞劳苦，一心一意地无私奉献。
Teachers are saints as well as human beings. There are wrinkles on their foreheads. I know it was carved by a knife called "worry". In the same way, the chalk dust also hovered on the teacher's hair for a long time and refused to leave, as if they were one. Each teacher was an angel, but for the sake of the children, they hid the wings flying to the heaven palace and stayed in the world. For the sake of the students, they are painstakingly correcting the homework, for the sake of the report card in the hands of the students, they do not repeatedly turn over the exercise questions, copy them to the students, for the sake of the party's education cause, they have grey temples and gray hair, and they still spare no effort and dedication.
粉笔是短小的，掂在手里不过几克，但是不是渺小的，它有自己的贡献，它是教师的影子，每一支粉笔上都写满它与教师之间的不解情缘。
Chalk is short. It's only a few grams in hand, but it's not insignificant. It has its own contribution. It's the shadow of a teacher. Every chalk is full of the mystery between it and the teacher.
轮到我擦黑板的时候，我拿起黑板擦不禁黯然神伤。我擦去的是老师的心血，我成了罪人。晚上，我辗转反侧，好不容易睡着了。睡梦里。一支粉笔从天外飘来，它告诉我，不必为此难过，它不想留下功绩让人赞扬，我不记得我有没有答应它，但我记得它来的乘坐五彩云，与它携手同行的是教师！
When it's my turn to clean the blackboard, I can't help but feel sad. What I wiped is the teacher's hard work, I became a sinner. In the evening, I tossed and turned and finally fell asleep. Sleep. A piece of chalk came from the sky. It told me that it didn't have to be sad about it. It didn't want to leave behind the achievements to be praised. I don't remember whether I promised it or not, but I remember that it came to ride on the five colored cloud. It was the teacher who walked hand in hand with it!
