A那天放学后,我看到她在黑板上写字,落日的余晖从窗户铺进教室,覆盖于那一些字之上,有类似金色的光泽。在我写的那一行下面,她一笔一画写的字工工整整,竟有八分的相似:哀其不幸,恨其不争。那是我上节课讲中国被侵略时写下的。看到她那与我自持尚佳的粉笔书法八九不离十的字,我一阵汗颜。从此便认得了我教书生涯里的第一个学生,她的名字叫做颜妍,写一手好字好文。或者因为她模仿的那8个粉 After school that day, I saw her writing on the blackboard. The twilight of the setting sun shone into the classroom from the window, covering the words above, with a similar golden luster. Underneath the line I wrote, she wrote a one-for-one drawing of a full-fledged, eight-character analogy: grieve its misfortune and hate it. That was what I wrote in my last lesson about China’s aggression. When I saw her with my good self-sustaining calligraphy ten words, I was ashamed. From then on I recognized the first student in my teaching career, her name is Yan Yan, a good writing good essay. Or because of the eight powders she imitates