A Teacher's Grey Hair 老师的白发

The sun came in through the window and the sound of reading came. I woke up and hid behind the black hair， trying not to be discovered. My master was buried in her books， writing hard to prepare for the morning class. Yes， I am a grey hair and my master is a teacher. The newly prepared breakfastwas placed in the corner of the desk， but my master was still busy thinking， writing and revising. With the books and notebooks filled with notes， my master seemed tired but confident. The bell rang. She quickly left the office and for the classroom. As a grey hair， I could hear my master begin the class politely by saying “Good morning”. She talked， wrote and asked questions. The class was always full of joy and smart thinking.

The sun set and there was a beautiful light in the sky. The breeze blew gently and I waved with it. I always know how I was born. I admire my master so much for her dedication. She always forgets to rest while working.

My master is just like the sun， warm and wise， hard-working and kind. She gives her students love and wisdom， and guides them on the path of life with the warm sunshine.