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When I was seven years old, I went to school. I studied with pleasure: I enjoyed reading and numeracy. Liked most of the corridors, in which we played at recess, and the first teacher, liked my grandmother. I liked a big garden near the school: In the spring it was white with apple blossoms and fall - from golden leaves that we raked into piles and then falling into them, and sought cool sour-sweet yellow apples. It was interesting until the third grade. And then our family moved into a new apartment on the edge of town, the school had to change. There was no apple orchard, and the corridors were narrow and slippery. It was boring. I went to school to communicate with classmates, have fun with them during lessons. It was only in tenth grade I realized that I made a big mistake: after all my adult life has just begun, and I have so little knowledge!

I realized that the school is our second home, because here we spend most of our life. The purpose of the school is to prepare us for adult life, to give the necessary knowledge. I realized that you must learn, if you want to achieve something in life. And then all turn out - the main thing: was to believe in myself.

School - is the foundation of our lives, which in many ways by which we build our life "home". I agree with the words: "School is a hotbed of wisdom", we are warming ourselves around it, and then take on a long path in life spark of knowledge, warmth and kindness!

My mother was my teacher. I think she has a wonderful profession! The noblest of all. Mom taught me and my classmates to read and write the first word, to think, make friends, to distinguish good and bad. She was raised in us a sense of duty, and helped to find their place in life.
It seems that she never rests: with the students talking, notebook checks, reads, busy at home ... I can see how much strength and energy she spends, how many sleepless nights she had to spend to grow from a child's personality. She is sure: no untalented children. Mom is fine in the classroom and in life. Beautiful, even when scolds us, her disciples. Voice demanding, rigorous, and her eyes a spark of kindness. My mom can not help liking. She gives spiritual strength to children; they take a distant piece of her life the way of heat. Mama considers herself a lucky woman, because she has a good family and creative work.

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