I get my strength from what I learned in those days

in #writelast year

We all had our notebooks; Our notebooks in which we try to write down the beauties within us in the most beautiful way. One day we would write what we couldn't tell anyone, a flower we saw one day, and our thoughts on life the next day... We shared everything with our teacher. He wouldn't judge us, so we could express our feelings and thoughts very easily. We trusted our teacher very much; We all loved him very, very, very much. Most of all, I loved it.


Our teacher prepared us for the future with what we wrote. He didn't look down on us, he cared a lot about what we did. That's why we all did everything we did with a different seriousness.

While we were writing, we were working on our writings like a great writer of the time. Our teacher said “I like it, I want this” on the articles they like. he wrote. Then we would be the happiest. We would bring our writing in the best way possible. Our teacher used to display some of the articles we brought on the classroom board and some on the wall newspaper in the hallway. Our friends, whose writing was liked, would fly with happiness.

We were very curious about one thing; he wouldn't hang some writings in both places, why wouldn't he hang them!. We could only understand it in the second semester. One day, at the slum school, our teacher talked about publishing a school magazine. We got excited, we thought that if our teacher wanted to take the magazine out, our work continued with more excitement. Our teacher gave those writings that he had not hung anywhere back to their owners. The articles have been reworked. Each of us worked on the articles until they became the most beautiful.

The month of April came with colorful flowers that year, with the beautiful spring air and fertile April rains. The weather has warmed up, and most of all, our hearts have warmed. Our press-scented "April Rain" became the excitement of our little world. Our beautiful magazine, each page of which is different, did not fall from our hands for days. It was something we could never have imagined; While we were not thinking, our teacher first made us think, then he caused a storm of excitement in our hearts, then he blew it with the joy of "of course it is our magazine!.." mixed with 'is this magazine ours now!'

Years passed; we grew up, we started life, we got a job. I don't know about my friends, but sometimes I look back and see how much I've been through in that short period of time. When I was going to get lost in our absence, poverty and deprivation, I am today and I am very strong. I draw my strength from what I learned in those days.

Of course, you must be wondering who is the big hero of those little ones. Who will be? A teacher who loves his job and tries to do his job in the best way possible.

Unfortunately, this teacher cannot teach today. No, not retired; not sick either. He was dismissed for being a member of a union. I don't get it, is that what's going to happen?

My hope is that this teacher, whose name is hidden in me, will return to his job as soon as possible.

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