Touching and Inspiring Stories about Teachers on November 20th

Prompt: Touching and Inspiring Stories about Teachers on November 20th

4 Sample Essays: Touching and Inspiring Stories about Teachers on November 20th

Sample Essay #1: Touching and Inspiring Stories about Teachers on November 20th

$900,000, it kept longing for those old worn-out 10,000 dong bills and a corner with no one to cry.

Finally, it passed the university entrance exam. The first person it wanted to share this important news with wasn't its parents but its beloved teacher...

Coming from a poor family with many siblings, and a similarly impoverished hometown, the thought of attending university was never a consideration. His parents, burdened by poverty and worried about his prospects, doubted his ability to compete with others. Only his teacher stood by him, instilling the belief that 'he could.'

Joy didn't last long; worries soon overwhelmed him. For five years, a myriad of financial concerns buzzed around in his head like a swarm of bees.

Then, his teacher came bearing a bundle of books and notebooks that he suspected contained the teacher's invaluable life lessons, handing him a small package that the teacher referred to as a 'secret.' He was cautioned to open it only in the most difficult times. He wasn't overly cautious. The 'secret package' he received from his teacher, he had suspected to be a stack of 10,000 dong bills wrapped in two layers of old nylon, the bills mostly crumpled and worn, which he believed the teacher had been saving for a long time! $900, it longed for those old worn-out 10,000 dong bills and a corner with no one to cry.

Two years had passed since the day his teacher braved the journey to Saigon to visit him, handing him the toil-earned 10,000 dong bills before hurriedly leaving. Then the teacher was transferred. For two years, occasionally, he still received the teacher's 10,000 dong bills (strangely, always at the moments when he felt most stuck!)... Two years, and he still hadn't once visited his teacher.

At noon, just returning from school, his mother called to deliver the news: 'Mr. H. passed away!'. He could only manage to ask three words: 'How did he pass?', then collapsed as his mother choked up on the other end of the line: 'The teacher had been sick for a long time, but no one knew. On the day he was taken to the hospital, the doctors discovered that he had already lost function of all his vital organs, and before anyone could visit, he had...'.

He abandoned all thoughts of boarding the ferry. In the sweltering midday heat, amidst the dizzying journey and fatigue, he felt the gentle teacher beside him, pressing into his hot hands glittering 10,000 dong bills... Only now did he notice how frail the teacher had become, the once dexterous hands now lined with veins... He suddenly awoke, tears streaming down his face, his heart wailing:

'Teacher... why didn't you wait for me to come home...!?'.

For he was convinced: if he could exchange those 10,000 dong bills for medicine, the teacher would have lived until he returned.

November 20th

'Teacher... why didn't you wait for me to come home...!?'

In addition to Inspiring and Touching Stories about Teachers on the Occasion of November 20th, students should also explore other essays such as Recalling Memorable Moments with Your Beloved Teacher or the section Telling about Your Most Beloved Teacher to reinforce their Vietnamese language skills.

Sample Story #2: Inspiring and Touching Stories about Teachers on the Occasion of November 20th

The teacher taught that a heart that doesn't know forgiveness is a dead heart, and a person who doesn't know how to forgive is just a piece of wood or stone.

To those who tirelessly row their boats amidst the ancient river.

To my teacher, who tirelessly steers through the ebb and flow of life...

I still vividly remember the image of you standing at the lectern back then. Your hair slightly touched by dew, the old school bag, the smile engraved with traces of time, accompanying us through the final years of our student life, where we grew but didn't necessarily mature...

The chalk dust falls, drifting onto the tender souls of us, carrying lessons about life.

Back then, we didn't know that being human required having a dream, whether simple, humble, or grand. The blackboard, the blank pages, and the teachings of our teacher were the long path leading us to those initial dreams!

Back then, we didn't know life was more than fairy tales and fables, that characters like Lý Thông, the wicked stepmother, or demons only existed in stories... Life always remains a challenging puzzle, and it's only after walking a long path that we realize there's no better solution than the two words 'experience.'

The teacher taught us that stepping into life requires bright eyes and a loving heart, to treat others well and to stay away from the schemes and machinations of the cruel.

Back then, we didn't know that 'forgiveness' is the most beautiful verb after 'love'. The teacher taught us not to turn our backs on those who have apologized, not to bring dead ends to those who know they're wrong, not to be cruel to those who are willing to turn back... The teacher taught us that a heart that doesn't know forgiveness is a heart that has died, and a person who doesn't know forgiveness is just like wood or stone.

Back then, we didn't know that our friend was covered in mud just to help their father plow the rice fields, we didn't know that the girl who sometimes dozed off in the other class stayed up late last night taking care of her sick mother, we didn't know that the friend next to us had a seriously ill relative so they often skipped school...

We were still just innocent children looking at life with an inherently innocent gaze, unwittingly forgetting that behind it could be a whole long story.

The teacher taught us to pay attention and care for those around us, to appreciate the seemingly ordinary but immensely valuable things. Because one day, love could be too late... when indifference and neglect have already widened the gap between people.

Back then, we didn't know that life is always full of twists and turns. The ups and downs, the twists and turns, the obstacles are always an indispensable part. Don't dream of life as a straight path... If life didn't have twists and turns, it would have lost much of its meaning long ago.

The teacher also taught us to hold our heads up in the face of failure, not to stop when there are still many obstacles ahead... Over half of my life has been lived according to the teacher's teachings, I have grown up a bit now, dear teacher...

No matter how long, how bleak, how harsh the sun or the rainstorm...

The boatmen are still busy ferrying passengers across the river...

Despite the cold wind, the late night, and the thin coat...

My teacher under the moonlight on those nights, still diligently rows through life...

I still remember the words my teacher taught me years ago.

Sample 3: Inspiring and Touching Stories about Teachers on the Occasion of November 20th

After three years, I had the opportunity to return to my old school. Not much had changed, the playground still shaded by trees, and the stone benches still there, silent and patient. The teacher's voice still resonated in the classroom, and the innocent eyes of the students brought back memories of school days. The school bell had rung, it was time to play.

I recalled the silhouette of my teacher from inside the classroom, the same figure as before when she planted the seeds of literacy in us. She still devotedly came to class, still steered the dream boats of us little students to the shores of happiness. Her gentle voice dissected memorable historical events for us, our country's resounding victories on various battlefields. Sometimes she paused her lecture and looked at the students, who were contemplating. Even she couldn't realize that those generations of students still cherished her gratitude since day one.

She returned to my school when it only had a simple thatched roof. Rain or shine, she pedaled her old bike to class. Once, on stormy days, she pedaled over ten kilometers to class because she was afraid the students would have to wait. Sometimes the water flooded over the wheels, but she continued, and when she arrived at class, both the teacher and the students were completely soaked.

The classroom was in ruins, impossible to study in. During such rainy and windy days, she remembered her hometown of Binh Luc, where people still 'rode buffalo to attend district meetings,' and she felt pity. She often told us a lot about her hometown and family. The countryside was flooded all year round, but it had extraordinary resilience.

Nowadays, with everything renovated, she still comes to class every day. As a history teacher, her demeanor is very strict. She always teaches us to strive for improvement. She often says, 'History is the root of a nation, and when you understand history, you understand the precious traditions of our ancestors. Learn from them and uphold those precious traditions.' Following her teachings, every generation of students strives to be a good student in her eyes.

Twenty-seven years have passed with many generations of students coming and going from this school, but her presence in the classroom every day remains the same. Her first students, now in their forties, still remember her teachings and the knowledge she imparted. She always teaches how to understand and remember a historical event thoroughly. 'Only when you understand why and can explain those events and their connections can you excel in history,' she says.

I remember memories of her from my high school days. As a literature major, I loved social sciences, especially studying history. When I was in junior high school, I heard about her teaching methods and how she was an excellent teacher at the school. And when I studied under her, I was truly impressed by her caring and attentive teaching approach.

In her lectures, she emphasizes the key events that are crucial to the historical period being studied. She often advises us: 'To study history, you need to understand the knowledge system, summarize the problem, and then break it down into smaller parts. That way, you'll remember it for a long time without losing focus.' Following her advice, each of us remembers historical issues very clearly and never misses anything in tests.

Sample Article #4: Inspiring Stories About Teachers on the Occasion of November 20th

I'm a student... who can't be taught. All the teachers who taught me have commented like that to my parents. No class has accepted me for more than a month. My mother cried. My father sighed: this one is done for...

Switched to a new school. Looking briefly at my school records, the principal wanted to expel me, but out of respect for my father's reputation as a former educational director, he reluctantly accepted. 'I'll put you in Mr. Tien's class,' he said.

Mr. Tien teaches a class composed entirely of individual students from the school. On the first day in class, my father personally brought me to 'hand over to the teacher.' I secretly observed my 'opponent.' Mr. Tien, thin and wearing heavy black-rimmed glasses, looked closely at me and said, 'Ah, a boy, let's see what I can do for you, pretty good.' He seated me next to a girl with short hair and a cold face. She nudged me to give her a wider seat. I had to accept it; I've never hit a girl before. Mr. Tien won 1-0.

'Teacher knew why I stained your friend's shirt,' teacher said to me when Tu whispered the story. How did he know? I didn't confess anything. Previously, every time I stained most classmates' clothes, the teachers would ask why, and immediately enact punishment. I always made up a story where I was the victim. I fabricated without anyone believing. I didn't care about the punishment or whether anyone believed. Yet today, the teacher said he knew. What's even more surprising is that he didn't punish me at all. He just gently told me, 'Be more careful next time.' A few days later, I stained the shirts of 3 more victims. The teacher still said he knew and didn't punish. I felt tired of this unimpressive ink-staining trick.

Back then, we all carried a slate board and a few chalks. After school, I collected all the chalks and threw them at the girls jumping rope in front of the yard. After class, I pushed my friends over, rushed out the front gate. Anyone unlucky enough to pass by me had all their excess chalk confiscated. The next day, the teacher called me to the meeting room. The teacher opened the cabinet, pressed a large chalk box into my hand without saying anything. I felt ashamed, turned my face away from the teacher's gaze. I remember how I brazenly faced my old teacher's scolding; the next day, I took even more chalk. But when the teacher handed me the chalk box, I felt overwhelmingly embarrassed. Holding the chalk box, I handed it back to the teacher, saying sheepishly, 'I won't do it again next time.' The teacher smiled and said, 'You're very obedient!'

The first time I was praised by an adult. I lay awake all night thinking. From now on, I will always be good, so that no one scolds me again.

But being good doesn't necessarily mean being good at everything. Indeed, I fit that description. I could play marbles, play all day without getting bored. But as soon as I sat down at the desk, I got bored right away. My parents scolded me, punished me in any way, I endured. Math was bearable, but anything related to literature, I was clueless.

After a month of school, I noticed the teacher cycling past my house. His bike, once painted who knows what color, now exposed rusty ugliness. The teacher entered the house; my parents were all absent. Peeking into my dilapidated home, the teacher promised to return tomorrow. I worried all day, unsure of what I did wrong. The next day, the teacher came back. He stood outside the yard 'chatting' with my father.

The teacher said he needed someone to read and take notes for him. It had to be in childish handwriting. He was researching something. My parents were relieved that they didn't have to manage me for half a day. I hesitated before finally going to the teacher's house. He lived alone. Apart from the bookshelves, there was nothing valuable. Every day, I hunched over, jotting down what I could read.

The teacher made me write short reflections after each work. Then I read them aloud, and the teacher corrected any misconceptions, adding some ideas. Occasionally, he told me to stop writing and help him with some calculations. I went home and practiced how to calculate quickly so as not to embarrass myself in front of the teacher. Gradually, the 'natural' knowledge came to me without me realizing. The first time I held my commendation letter, my mother cried louder than when I was expelled. My father didn't say anything, just nodded and smiled.

The school year passed quickly. Even during summer break, I didn't forget to read and take notes from the stack of books the teacher assigned before the break. On the opening day, I searched but didn't find the teacher anywhere. Sensing something was wrong, I skipped the ceremony and ran to the teacher's house. The empty house alarmed me. The neighbor heard the dog barking and hurried over. 'Are you Phong?' 'Yes.' 'Teacher Tien sent this for you. He said to send it to the South to live with his son.' I quickly opened it, the letter was very short. 'Teacher hopes you study very well. You have always been a good student to him.'

It took me ten years to fully understand what the teacher wanted to convey. There are things that anger alone cannot change. Love and creativity are what help you change yourself, change everyone else.

Thank you, teacher, for your special teaching method that helped me grow up. Thank you, my teacher!

Practicing Telling about a beloved teacher to hone your writing skills as well as to write a heartfelt content dedicated to your teacher. Refer to detailed thoughts about teachers and school to improve your writing skills about your teachers.

Mytour also compiles funny and meaningful 20/11 stories. Let's read 20/11 funny stories to have relaxing moments and understand more about November 20th.