When I was in Grade 6 primary school, I met my first real English teacher, Mr Long. He taught me grammar. Kind and knowledgeable, he was the most popular teacher in our class. He was similar to you in many ways, Shengliver. He was fat and kind.


He sang The Spring of Northern Country to us. Sometimes he shared with us his childhood stories. Therefore his class was active and relaxing.


At the end of the term, Mr Long said some strange words in his class. In fact, he talked a lot. Before the final exam, in his last English class, he said that he liked us very much as if we were his children. When the class was coming to an end, he said he wanted to hug us. At first, we were confused. No one dared to be hugged. Then the president of our class went over and hugged our teacher first. Everyone else in our class followed suit. After class, Mr Long said that teaching us was his happiness.


Unluckily, during the winter holidays, a disaster struck him. One evening, he was playing mah-jong with his friends. It is rumoured that when he went to the latrine, he was possessed by a ghost in the dark. Hence Mr Long became a lunatic. Because of his condition, the family had him sent to a mental hospital.


When I heard about his disease, I came to know the reason why Mr Long had hugged us. The hug is a precious memory to him as well as to us.


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