Teachers' Day around the world is not celebrated on the same day.In some countries，Teachers' Day is celebrated on working days.However，in other countries，it is celebrated on holidays.

    Here we are giving you a list of countries that celebrate Teachers' Day on holidays.

China

    The Teachers' Day was proposed(提议)at National Central University in 1931.It was adopted(被采纳) by the central government of Republic of China in 1932.In 1939，the day was set on August 27，Confucius's birthday.People's Republic of China government called it off in 1951.It was reestablished in 1985，and the day was changed to September 10.Now more and more people are trying to celebrate the Teachers' Day back to Confucius's birthday.

India

    In India，Teachers' Day is celebrated on September 5，in honor of Dr Sarvepalli Radhakrishnan，the second President of India.Because his birthday was September 5th.At schools on this day，students in India celebrate this day to show their respect and love to their teachers.

Russia

    In Russia Teachers' Day is on October 5th.Before 1994，this day was set on the first Sunday of September.

USA

    In the United States，Teachers' Day is a holiday on the Tuesday of the first full week of May.

Thailand

    January 16 was adopted as Teachers' Day in the Thailand by a resolution(决议) of the government on November 21，1956.The first Teachers' Day was held in 1957.

Iran

    In Iran，Teachers' Day is celebrated on May 2nd every year.It is in honor of the famous Iranian professor Ayatollah Morteza Motahhari who died on May 2，1980.

    Although different countries celebrate Teachers' Day on different days，the activities people take to celebrate it just stay the same.

    The setting was a packed gymnasium just before the start of a game against another school. There were five girls who were members of the Danville High School basketball team—all of them starters. They were not in uniform to play that night and would not be on the team for the rest of this season. They were there to admit their breaking of team rules. They were there to support their coach's decision to take them off the team. They were there to let the town know there was a problem in their little community that needed to be addressed. And they did it with sincere regret rather than defensiveness.

    While the school had been out for the New Year's holiday, the five girls had gone to the party with several of their friends. There was alcohol there. And they all drank some.

    Coach Rainville has a zero tolerance rule on drugs and alcohol for her members though it was a hard decision to make. When classes resumed and accounts of holiday parties were shared, rumors about the five girls began closing in on them. The coach said she couldn't back down on her rules. And the players—two junior students and three senior students—agreed. That night in the gym was part of their public support of the coach's decision.

    “We hope you will understand that we are not bad kids. What we did was definitely not worth it. We hope this event will make everyone realize that there is a big drug and alcohol problem in our community,” one of the senior students said, “And if you work with us to try to solve this problem, you will help us feel that we have not been thrown off our basketball team for nothing.” The five left the floor to deafening applause.

    The team may not win another game this year. But they've learnt something about personal responsibility, the effect of one's action on others, and honesty that will serve them well throughout life.

    The park bench was deserted as I sat down to read beneath the branches of an old willow tree, with good reason to frown, for the world was dragging me down. At this time, a boy approached me. He stood right before me, and said with great excitement, "Look what I found!"

    In his hand was a flower, and what a pitiful sight, with its petals (花瓣) all worn. Wanting him to take his flower and go off to play, I managed a smile and then turned to the other side.

    But instead of leaving, he sat next to my side and placed the flower to his nose and declared, "It really smells pretty and it's beautiful, too. That's why I picked it. Here it's for you."

    The flower before me was dying or dead. But I knew I must take it, or he might never leave. So I reached for the flower, and replied, "Just what I need."

    But instead of placing the flower in my hand, he held it in mid-air. It was then that I noticed that the boy was blind.

    I heard my voice quiver (轻微颤抖), and at the same time my tears shone like the sun. As I thanked him for picking the very best one, he smiled and said, "You're welcome." And then he ran off to play, unaware of the impact he'd had on me.

    I sat there and wondered how he managed to see a self-pitying woman beneath an old willow tree. Perhaps from his heart, he'd been blessed with true sight.

    Through the eyes of the blind boy, I could see the problem was not with the world; the problem was me. And for all of those times I had been blind. From now on, I promised to see beauty and appreciate every second. Then I held the flower up to my nose and breathed its fragrance and smiled as that young boy.

    In university I had a part-time job at a shop that sold doughnuts and coffee. Situated on a block where several buses stopped, it served the people who had a few minutes to wait for their bus.

    Every afternoon around four o'clock, a group of schoolchildren would burst into the shop, and business would come to a stop. Adults would glance in, see the crowd and pass on. But I didn't mind if the children waited for their bus inside. Sometimes I would hand out a bus fare when a ticket went missing — always repaid the next day. On snowy days I would give away some doughnuts. I would lock the door at closing time, and we waited in the warm shop until their bus finally arrived.

    I enjoyed my young friends, but it never occurred to me that I played an important role in their lives — until one afternoon when a man came and asked if I was the girl working on weekdays around four o'clock. He identified himself as the father of two of my favorites.

    "I want you to know I appreciate what you do for my children. I worry about them taking two buses to get home. It means a lot that they can wait here and you keep an eye on them. When they are with the doughnut lady, I know they are safe." I told him it wasn't a big deal, and that I enjoyed the kids.

    So I was the Doughnut Lady. I not only received a title, but became a landmark.

    Now I think about all the people who keep an eye on my own children. They become, well, Doughnut Ladies. Like the men at the skating rink (滑冰场) who let my boys ring home; Or the bus driver who drove my daughter to her stop at the end of the route at night but wouldn't leave until I arrived to pick her up; Or that nice police officer who took pity on my boys walking home in the rain when I was at work — even though the phone rang all the next day with calls from curious neighbors. "Was that a police car I saw at your house last night?"

    That wasn't a police car. That was a Doughnut Lady.

    It was at least two months before Christmas when nine-year-old Rose told her father and me that she wanted a new bicycle.

As Christmas drew nearer, her desire for a bicycle seemed to fade—or so we thought, as she didn't mention it again. We bought the latest fashionable Baby Sitter's Club dolls, a holiday dress and some beautiful story books. Then, much to our surprise, on December 23rd, she proudly announced that she "really wanted a bike more than anything else."

    It was just too late, what with all the details of preparing Christmas dinner and buying last-minute gifts. We could only think of the bicycle and the disappointment of our child. "What if I make a little bicycle out of clay and write a note that she could trade the clay model in for a real bike?" Her dad asked. The theory, of course, being that since that is a high-ticket item and she is "such a big girl", it would be much better for her to pick it out. So he spent the next five hours painstakingly working with clay to make a tiny bike.

    Three hours later, on Christmas morning, we were excited for Rose to open the little heart-shaped package with the beautiful red and white clay bike and the note. Finally, she opened it and read the note aloud.

    She looked at me and then at her dad and said, "so does this mean that I trade in this bike that Daddy made me for a real one?"

    Beaming, I said, "Yes."

    Rose had tears in her eyes when she replied, "I could never trade in this beautiful bicycle that Daddy made me. I'd rather keep this than get a real bike."

    At that moment, we would have moved heaven and earth to buy her every bicycle on the planet!

    We have encountered a crisis around the corner. You mean global warming? The world economy? No, the decline of reading. People are just not doing it anymore, especially the young. Who's responsible?

Actually, it's more like, what is responsible? The Internet, of course, and everything that comes with it – Facebook, Twitter. You can write your own list.

    There's been a warning about the imminent death of literate civilization for a long time. In the 20th century, first it was the movies, then radio, then television that seemed to spell doom for the written world. None did. Reading survived; in fact it not only survived, it has flourished. The world is more literate than ever before – there are more and more readers, and more and more books.

    The fact that we often get our reading material online today is not something we should worry over. The electronic and digital revolution of the last two decades has arguably shown the way forward for reading and for writing. Take the arrival of e-book readers as an example.

    Devices like Kindle make reading more convenient and are a lot more environmentally friendly than the traditional paper book.

    As technology makes new ways of writing possible, new ways of reading are possible. Interconnectivity allows for the possibility of a reading experience that was barely imaginable before. Where traditional books had to make do with photographs and illustrations, an e-book can provide readers with an unlimited number of links: to texts, pictures, and videos. In the future, the way people write novels, history, and philosophy will resemble nothing seen in the past.

    On the other hand, there is the danger of trivialization. One Twitter group is offering its followers single-sentence-long "digests" of the great novels. War and Peace in a sentence? You must be joking. We should fear the fragmentation of reading. There is the danger that the high-speed connectivity of the Internet will reduce our attention span—that we will be incapable of reading anything of length or which requires deep concentration.

    In such a fast-changing world, in which reality seems to be remade each day, we need the ability to focus and understand what is happening to us. This has always been the function of literature and we should be careful not to let it disappear. Our society needs to be able to imagine the possibility of someone utterly in tune with modern technology but able to make sense of a dynamic, confusing world.

    In the 15th century, Johannes Guttenberg's invention of the printing press in Europe had a huge impact on civilization. Once upon a time the physical book was a challenging thing. We should remember this before we assume that technology is out to destroy traditional culture.