Praise the gardener

Teacher, everyone says that you cultivate the pillars of the motherland, but I want to say that you are the pillars of the motherland. It is you who support the backbone of our generation!
You are like a red candle, dedicating all the heat and light for younger generations! Your character and spirit can be used in two words – burning! Keeping burning!
Your lectures are so rich and varied that every chapter seems to open a window in front of me, which makes me see a beautiful new world…
Ah, with you, the garden is so gorgeous, the earth is full of spring! Teacher, open the window to see, this garden spring, this garden of peaches and plums, are saluting you!
How could there be so many beautiful flowers of the soul without the nourishment of your thoughts? Ah, teacher, engineer of the human soul, who is not praising you?
To spread knowledge is to sow hope and happiness. Teacher, you are the seeder of hope and happiness!
Teacher, you are the cultivator and seeder of beauty. It is you who shine with beautiful sunshine and moisten with beautiful rain and dew that make our hearts green and blossom like flowers.
You are busy with the blooming of flowers and the ripening of fruits, silently hanging the shade of leaves! Ah, teacher, your spirit, always remember me!
You are much like the unknown roots, which make the small trees grow strong and full of fruits on the branches, without requiring any remuneration.
You have given us a ruler of life, let us measure every day; you have given us a mirror of exemplary behavior, let us have learning examples everywhere.
You are the bridge, connecting the cut hills for us, leading us to the peak of harvest; you are the ivy, tough and slender, guiding us to pick the Ganoderma lucidum and ginseng on the cliff top.
When a seedling needs a cup of water, never bring a bucket of water, and when a bucket of water is needed, never give a glass of water. It’s a good gardener’s skill to give it in time and in moderation. My teacher, this is your art of education.
Regardless of hard work and cold inkstone, peach ripening and flowering dan, Li ripening is technically disabled, it is easy to plant flowers but difficult to cultivate people. Valley Feixiang is not ordinary, poetry is full of the world, paintings are full of the world, gifted and smiling.
Teacher, with the loftiest feelings of human beings – love, sowing spring, sowing ideals, sowing power…
Sowing with words, plowing with colored pens, watering with sweat and moistening with painstaking efforts are the lofty work of our beloved teachers.
You work in the present, but build the future of the motherland; you teach in the classroom, but your achievements are in all directions of the motherland.
Teacher, if you are compared to a clam, then the student is the sand in the clam; you use love to lick it, grind it, soak it, wash it… Over the years, the sand grains became pearls, shining.
You have countless memories of pride and happiness in your teaching career, but you treasure them in your heart and only look at the garden to be opened up.
If I were a poet, I would write poems with full enthusiasm, praising the vastness and far-reaching of the sea. And dedicate it to you, my broad-minded and knowledgeable teacher.
Teachers are the kindling of fire, igniting the fire of students’hearts; teachers are stone-level, bearing students step by step down to climb up.
You are like a candle, although weak, but there is a heat, a light, illuminate others, deplete themselves. This selfless dedication will never be forgotten.
The language of your lecture is as pleasant as a tinkling spring, as tender as a rippling stream, and as fierce as a torrential river…
Spring silkworm has never said self-praised words in his life. The silk that he spits out is a ruler to measure the value of life. Dear teacher, you never show off in front of others, but the blooming peach and plum is the highest evaluation of you.
Your love, the sun is generally warm, the spring breeze is generally warm, and the spring is generally sweet. Your love is more severe than father’s love, more delicate than mother’s love, more pure than friendship. You, the teacher’s love, is the greatest and noblest in the world.
The value of fireflies lies in using the lamp hanging at the back to focus on others; your respectability lies in always providing convenience to others.
Who scattered the rain and dew all over the earth? Who nurtured the seedlings diligently? It is you, teacher, you are a great gardener! Look at the flowers blooming everywhere, which one does not have your painstaking efforts, which one does not have your smile!