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Math teacher, I want to say 400 words to you
Touching my sincere heart and remembering the bitterness of growing up, I have been accompanying you-my teachers.

Autumn is coming again. In the warm sunset, I always think of childhood stories, those childish years, and unknown teachers around us.

Although the torrent of years has washed away the dust of history again and again, what remains unchanged is that generation after generation of teachers have devoted themselves to cultivating generation after generation of students and leading them to success. How kind it is to shout out the word "teacher" from the bottom of my heart. Today, I want to send my most sincere wishes to you and to the teachers who have devoted their lives to education!

Although your faces are full of vicissitudes, you still left us a knowing smile; White chalk powder, falling wave after wave, dyed many teachers' black hair, but set off your youthful green more strongly; On the podium, next to the desk, cold comes and summer goes, spring, summer, autumn and winter, a little effort flows down. Thank you teacher!

Teacher, we will remember your tireless teachings, because that is your most sincere language; Teacher, I have been reviewing your encouragement, because I will not give up my success; Teacher, I will always miss your smile on me, because we know we have to repay you. Teacher, you have taught me too much, and at the same time, you have lost too much. Teacher, you have devoted your life to us. How can we repay you? Because of your teaching all the way, I didn't lose my way; Because of your concern along the way, I have confidence and courage ... you are engineers of the human soul, you are engaged in the most glorious cause under the sun, and the motherland is strong because of you. Thank you teachers!

Some people say that teachers are gardeners and cultivate flowers; Some people say that teachers are red candles, illuminating us and sacrificing ourselves; Some people say that teachers are the sun, helping us to light the way forward; I told you, teachers are selfless rain and dew. In the garden, flowers are blooming brilliantly with dew. The teacher's teaching purified my soul, and the teacher's encouragement gave me a blue sky. How can a seed germinate, and why can a small seedling stand tall and straight, because this is the price paid by the teacher. Melodious bells and beautiful flowers are controlled by time, and only my blessing will not change. Thank you, hardworking teachers.

The dedication of teachers and students will never be forgotten. On the road of life, they lit the light of hope for me, enriched my soul and increased my wisdom. Sowing with language, cultivating with colored pens, watering with sweat and nourishing with the soul are teachers' lofty labor.

I think, perhaps in every teacher's heart, what they want most is not the flowers around them on Teacher's Day, but the flood of applause, but to see us repay the teachers' regretless lives with the most diligent efforts and to hear our happy laughter when we succeed!

There will always be some people in one's life. They will appear when we need help most, when we are most helpless and want to give up most. Those people are sunshine angels, so that we can face difficulties with dignity. In my mind, teachers are a group of sunshine angels who have taught me a lot. Teacher, maybe I am not your best student, but in my heart, you are all the best teachers!

Day after day, students come and go. What remains unchanged is your deep love and bright smile. Bless you, teachers. Say thank you on Teacher's Day, I hope you can all receive it!

I will never forget who taught me to think; Never forget who is leading the way in confusion; Never forget who made the world have love and the sound of books; Never forget who built the temple of knowledge with hard work.

Some people say: you are a silkworm, and you can't spit out that endless love until you die! Some people say: you are a candle, shed the last tear and light up the dark night sky; Some people also say: you are the morning dew, always before dawn, silently moistening everything on the earth; Others say: you are the sunset glow. When the sun comes back, you burn the sky with the last ray of light. Teacher! You said it yourself: what I long for most is paving the way, and the happiest thing is burning; I am just a wisp of smoke in the blue sky, not seeking luxury, but beauty lies in nature; I am just an old stepping stone on the journey, a distant cold star in the dark; I'm just, I'm just a drop of water in the surging river, coming quietly and going calmly. Dear teacher! You drew a rainbow on the blackboard, but it erased the effect; On the podium, you lifted others, but gave yourself; Years make your face old, and chalk makes your sideburns white. You have released a lot of hope, but you are still guarding the nest! Dear teacher, I want to say to you: you are the greeting of the morning star and the companion star of the big dipper; You are a cultivator of three feet of land and a driver of three-inch tools; You are the disseminator of human culture and the promoter of the world; You are the designer of the human soul and the reverser of the society. You are the spring breeze, blowing the mountains green, and you are the sunshine, illuminating every corner; You are a lighthouse, guiding the boat of confusion to ride the ocean of knowledge, and you are a red candle, spreading light and heat to the world without stint; You dyed the branches of Chimonanthus praecox red with the feeling of hot coals, burned yourself, and gave me a yearning for spring, a green leaf of hope; You turned the iceberg made of books into snowflakes, turned my hair into gray, gave me pure dreams and gave me strong wings in the cold wind; You came from the ocean of knowledge, holding a handful of spring water in your hand, sweating all the way, nourishing my thirsty heart and giving me persistent desire. When the wax torch turns to ash, you are immortal; When the silk runs out, you will be eternal! Don't look back, string up the footsteps of Spring and Autumn. My life moves on in your expectant eyes. ...