He was a kind and warm-hearted man. The moment I saw him, I felt as if he were my father. In class, he was strict in our studies. But in the spare time, he was our good friend. He often taught us how to play the violin, to sing, and to draw pictures. He cared not only for our studies but also for our minds. Whenever we had difficulties in our studies or in our daily life, he would encourage us to overcome them. When we failed in our exams, he would help us, "Don't lose heart, work harder and you will succeed." On his holidays, he would give up his rest to help those who had difficulty in their studies so that they could catch up with the other students. He was just like a candle, burning himself away to provide light for other. He was such a good teacher that all of us loved and respected him.
But a year ago, word came that Mr. Wang died of cancer. Hearing this, I couldn't help crying. I remember the song of Small Grass: No sweeter than a flower, no taller than a tree…. Small grass is ordinary, but grand. Mr. Wang is a blade of small grass. He gave his students all his love. Mr. Wang will live in our hearts forever.
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