先生姓许名长青,是我九年级的数学老师。正如他的名字那样,他是我心中的常青树,即使是岁月的沉淀,风雨的洗礼,他依旧在我心头茂盛如初,经久不衰。那天,星期一,天朗气清。如同往常,我呆呆地坐在自己的座位上吃着零食,和同学们闲聊着,无意中瞥见被粉笔头肆虐的讲桌,还疑惑今天怎么没人值日,但又懒于开口,也就不以为意了。几分钟过去,预备铃响了,吵闹的教室一反常态,迅速 His name is Xu Changqing, my grade nine math teacher. As his name, he is an evergreen tree in my heart, even if the years of precipitation, the baptism of wind and rain, he still my heart lush, everlasting. That day, Monday, the sky is clear. As usual, I sat slumped in my seat eating snacks, chatting with my classmates, inadvertently glimpsed the chalk table raged, but also wondered why no one today, but lazy to speak, but also Do not mind it. A few minutes later, the preparation bell rang, noisy classroom uncharacteristically, quickly