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I
have a love-hate feeling with 8 o'clock classes. I like to get started that
early, but most students don't. They usually came in late and looked sleepy at
that hour. One day I was really angry at it. I was excited about the history
lesson, but no one else seemed to be. I wrote things on the blackboard. I moved
around the room. I told stories. I tried humor (幽默).
It was useless. Their looks didn't seem to change. I was frustrated.
I
forgot to keep time. I was going to talk more when I looked down at my watch.
It was already two minutes past the end of class. So I just ended suddenly and
soon the students began to pick up their book bags and rushed out the door on
their way to another class.
While
I was watching them leaving, I put away my own books, notes and papers, I took
them up and stepped out into the hall. I was tired and a bit sad. I had put
everything I knew into that class and it had not seemed to work. Then, as I
started across the hall to my nearby office, a student came out the back door
of the classroom and caught up with me.
Randy
sat at the back of the classroom. I thought he wanted to ask why I didn't
correct their exam papers or maybe he wanted to ask for leave or…It was none of
that. With his eyes sparkling (闪烁),
Randy said. "This is the first time I've not wanted a college class to
end."
The
tiredness lifted. I had done better than I thought. I don't know if Randy will
ever understand how much he did for me that day.
