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put those days carved into time. Wide playground, a single wall parallel bars, have left our presence. Forget the smiling faces of those playing, we can not forget the red brick wall painted growth leverage, forget fine willow trees shade cool with everyone, forget starting a run on the starting line of life.Years always inadvertently took away part of our spend, once studies are faced with a parting, and teachers and students share reluctantly, always add a little life to the bitter childhood. Get along with the feelings that have been integrated into the blood for six years, would leave full of bitterness and much miss? Time urging us to grow, and perhaps have to endure every course were tempered. Secondary school we are no longer of years, we must lose some time? This terrible process is a shock to the heart. Rings superimposed, we grow old, so we wait for what will be the, had nothing in it?Looking back, there is always a lonely heart from those years we gradually fade out of sight of each other. The boys start their families have their own home, the girls get married find their own happiness, and some far from home in a foreign land, now is also to get together with thousands of hard to extremely difficult. Always I think, there is no dust circulation forgot part of our story? Inconstancy of human relationships, there is no loss of innocent? Many twists and turns of life, life's not liking along? If dust still remember us, then gave a most beautiful years of study, the time to stay a childlike innocence. Not a surprise encounter, only for those years have been pure joy to us.[Addressed to those students of teachers]Set foot on the campus of the moment, unfamiliar teachers and students, was somewhat perturbed. The teacher warm words to dispel the heart of all concerns. Familiar from the strange to the students, it has become the most intimate partners. Play together, do homework together, sing together, then we still have a happy childhood. Growth ladder shaped travel warm, though it is from all sides, but also brothers.The same pencil, the same rubber, writing our growth. There is always a picture of our lifetime, the teacher holding chalk, blackboard dark, tidy desk, holding textbook classmates. Those of us in the teacher's training, the future is full of hope and dreams, in class, class bell we childish, and also threw a share of childish innocence. We began a new journey, a new face of teachers and students is fast integration, we are no longer fantasy, but also know how to work hard to develop with the future direction. In the heavy bag, is increasing the pressure of learning, but also
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