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She couldn't take it anymore. Using all her strength, she
ran aimlessly, facing the sun with tears streaming down her face like a
burst dam. "Why? Why do all teachers value grades so much? Are grades really
that important?" she cried out to the mountains, but there was no echo in
response, and she felt the sun scorching her eyes.
She thought about how the teacher looked at other students in class with a
warm smile and gentle eyes, like a gentle breeze brushing against their
faces. But when it came to her, the smile seemed so far out of reach. Every
time the teacher's gaze nearly met hers, she quickly buried her head in the
triangle functions written on her paper, silently waiting for something, not
knowing what it was.
She wiped away her tears and decided to keep them hidden. She continued to
be cautious in the teacher's class, like a butterfly delicately avoiding
thorns or a leaf falling in autumn, afraid of startling the ants. She
imagined how the teacher saw her, a girl who did poorly and only held the
class back. She chuckled, perhaps like a divine bird that looked down on a
decaying rat.
She inadvertently looked up and met the teacher's gaze for half a second,
and at that moment, she saw the corners of the teacher's mouth turn up. She
realized the teacher was smiling at her, and it was softer than the spring
breeze, more comforting than the summer coolness, quieter than falling
autumn leaves, and purer than dancing winter snow.
Yes, that "she" was me, and that smile was the blossom that released a
fragrant scent and the wind that pushed my boat forward. I raised my head
confidently and realized that what I had been waiting for was within reach,
waving to me and calling me. When you are waiting, it's worth lifting your
head, even if it's just by chance. You will discover that what you have been
waiting for has been calling you all along, but you just haven't noticed. |
