Tin Tổng Hợp

3 bài văn mẫu Kể về một lần em mắc khuyết điểm khiến thầy cô buồn hay nhất – Ngữ văn lớp 8

Topic: Tell me about a time when you had a defect that made your teacher sad.


In everyone’s life, everyone has flaws. But there are shortcomings that make us always resentful. That is my case. To this day, I still vividly remember the story of that day. I regret making her sad because of my mistake, but I believe that she is ready to sympathize and forgive me.

I used to be a good student in math class. Every test I get a score of nine and ten. Every time, she called for grades, I was always proud and answered very clearly to the admiration of my classmates. One day, during the review time, I subjectively did not review the old lesson. As usual, she will call you to the board to get points. I insisted that she wouldn’t call me, because I already had an oral test score. So, I leisurely looked at the sky through the window and let my mind wander to the tug-of-war that my class and the seventh grader would play this afternoon. But something unexpected happened, a “shocking” news made my class excited. The teacher asked us to take out the paper for the test. What can I do now? I have not studied the old lesson yet. Every time you do a test, you usually let us know in advance so we can prepare. And why is it like this today? I looked around bewilderedly and suddenly woke up when little Hoa sitting next to me nudged my side to remind me to copy the topic and take care of my homework. I struggled to write and then delete. Looking around, I see you guys are working hard. As for me, my mind was spinning like it was about to explode, I completely lost my temper and couldn’t think of how to do the test. Time was up, I submitted my work but my heart was restless and restless. I think when the article is released, what will happen if I get a bad score? I would lose face in front of the class, and be reprimanded by the teacher, not to mention that my parents would scold me anyway. My parents will burn all my comic book treasure. What do I have to do? What do I have to do? The rush of questions that came out made me even more worried.


Then the fateful moment came. As always, I take the song from her hand to distribute to you. Glancing at my post, the number three made my heart wonder again. I tried not to let anyone see and tried to keep a straight face. That face hides so many whirling waves, rising in her heart. It’s an unprecedented thing. How can I talk to her, to my parents, to my friends now? I was worried and suddenly came up with an idea… The teacher started calling grades into the notebook. At my name, I calmly shouted “Eight!”. The teacher didn’t seem to notice. I breathed a sigh of relief and said to myself: “You probably wouldn’t notice because there were nearly a dozen papers with bad marks!”. To erase all traces, that night I redo another lesson and use a red pen to score “eight” according to her handwriting. Day by day, thinking about the time when the teacher asked to review the lesson, I felt cold all over. Oh my god, just like the “prophecy”, it’s so bad luck, she really wanted to review our cards because the eight didn’t match the number she summed up before returning the cards. My whole body was cold and my face was pale. I just want to get out of class. And I panicked even more when I heard her call my name. You found out I corrected the score. She called me up and gave me the parent invite right away. My whole class seemed to be covered by that heavy, dry atmosphere. She didn’t say a word to me which made me even more scared and confused. I’m not in the mood to study other subjects. How I feel “hate” her! I just violated for the first time, why don’t you forgive me. I will keep this in mind and just want revenge on you. The next incident, my parents punished me for weeks not to see the story, forced me to do math homework. I “hate” her even more… And so one day, when recess time was over, my friends ran up to the table to ask her questions. I quickly hid the homeroom number and a notebook. hers. I just thought to make her angry and worried… I saw her go back to class to find and inform the whole class. But no one knew… She had no doubts about her little students. As I expected, you have to submit the homeroom book to the school. She lost her notebook, so she was reprimanded by the school. There was no smile on her face, she looked sad. It took her time to redo the number. That made me feel good.

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One day, I happened to open her notebook. Each page, each page is the record of the work, there are even pages of her class memories. She recorded the names of the sick friends, commented on which subjects she needed help with, which ones made progress… I was so surprised. It turned out that she took great care of us and loved us. I flipped to the last page, where she wrote about her class’ recent Math test. I was very surprised when there was a small paragraph she wrote about me: “I don’t understand why Trinh does so badly? Or is she having trouble? I have to find out the reason and see if I can help her with anything. ? Usually this game is very obedient, always helping friends and polite…” Reading her sentiments, I felt the corners of my eyes sting, my heart tightened. Now I know that she always considers me a good child, always polite and respectful to her. She always thinks that for some reason I can’t do my homework, not because I’m lazy to study. She gave me a three, well worth it. Those three points make me remind myself… I know what to do to atone for my mistakes other than to give her the book back and apologize to her. I hope you can forgive me. Thinking so, the next morning, I was about to bring the book back to her, when I heard that she had to go home urgently because her mother was seriously ill and had no one to take care of her. She had applied for leave for a while… The news shocked me. Two notebooks are still in my briefcase. I don’t know how to contact you. Everything is too late now. If I hadn’t corrected the score at that time, I probably wouldn’t have caused so many mistakes and sorrows for her. And I’m not as upset as I am now. I don’t know what else to do, I can only torment myself. So many emotions suppressed in me made me want to burst. Why did I have such wrong and stupid thoughts that day and now regret it forever? I don’t see her anymore and don’t know how to apologize to her. I can only keep her notebook and hope that one day I will see her again, return it to her and include my sincere apology. Miss…


Time doesn’t stop. Now I’m far from her. The chair she sat on was now occupied by another teacher. I know that the teacher will also love and worry about us, but I just hope to find her figure again someday. I hope to see her again to apologize, to receive her forgiveness and tolerance. Ma’am, I’m really sorry…

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In life, each of us makes many mistakes, but there are mistakes that we never forget. Now, every time I think of my seventh grade literature teacher, I feel a pang in my heart for being rude to her.

I was the unhappiest kid in the world – that’s what I always thought of myself. My mother gave birth to me, but I have no father. Since I was a child, I have always been despised and ridiculed by people around me as a “bastard”. Many mothers do not let their children play with me. I lived like that with my mother in a shabby little house at the end of the neighborhood. Since I was a child, I have not seen anyone who is kind and loving to me but my mother. My mother and I lived alone without relatives in the contempt of everyone around. In my eyes, humans are ugly and cruel – except for the gentle mother whom I love and respect with all my heart. When I reached school age, I did not play with any of my classmates, always indifferent and indifferent to everyone around me.

That year, I was in seventh grade. In literature class, today’s class of argumentative argumentative essay. The teacher lectured on the topic “Good leaves cover torn leaves”. She used many close, specific and practical arguments and examples to show us that this is the kindness of our Vietnamese people. After the lecture, she let the class write the essay, the next lesson she will correct it. The next class, she called some friends to submit their papers for her to correct – including me. She called me up and asked: “Toan, why don’t you just leave the paper blank? Don’t you understand the lesson? I don’t understand where I will explain it again?”

My reaction was so unexpected that the whole class stared at me in shock. I raised my neck to answer her: “I don’t do it because I don’t want to do it, it’s not because I don’t understand. It’s all lies and fabrications. There’s nothing in this world to have compassion, people love people. Why would you? prove such a lie true?” I said without knowing what I was talking about. Perhaps these are the things that have been suppressed for a long time today have emerged. The whole class turned their surprised eyes on me. As for the teacher, her face was pale, I saw her trembling with anger. She didn’t say a word, but quickly walked out of the classroom. I know you’re angry. Was she afraid of not being able to control her emotions, so she stepped out? I briefly regretted being too wordy with her, but I don’t see myself in the wrong. The class rep came to me gently: “Why are you so rude? Go and apologize to her!” I said angrily: “I’m not wrong. I’m not at fault!”.

After the above incident, I thought I would be expelled or at least invited my parents. I was just worried that my mother would be sad. At the end of the hour, she called me up to meet her in private. I knew I would be severely reprimanded. I entered the teacher’s room, she sat there with a sad face. Tears welled up in her dark eyes. I guess she just cried and was surprised. I was even more surprised when she did not scold me, but gently analyzed to show me that I thought that was wrong. You have always been close to me and helped me, she has always cared and loved me,… I’m so sorry. I humbly apologized to her. She gently patted my head and said: “You understand that’s good and shouldn’t lose faith in humanity like that! I’m not mad at you”. Even though she said that, I still feel guilty for being rude to her.

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I am so grateful to her for teaching me the lesson of generosity and helping me regain my faith in humanity.

That sad story happened from last school year, yet every time I recall it, it feels like it was just recently. The time of the Math test that day, I will remember it for the rest of my life. The end of the story goes like this:

The math teacher for grade 7A is Mr. Thao. I really like Math partly because the teacher is both easy to understand and attractive. From the beginning of the year to the middle of the first semester, I continuously got 9 points, 10 points. My father is also a math teacher at the school, often proud of his beloved son.

Suddenly, Mr. Thao got sick and had to stay in the hospital and even more surprisingly, the person assigned by the Board of Directors to teach instead was… my father. All troubles start from there.

Although my father is a good teacher, I feel like learning from him. Every time it’s Math time, I’m embarrassed and unnatural. When Mr. Thao was still teaching, I used to volunteer on the board to solve the exercises and was always praised by him. Now it’s different, Dad gives lectures, I listen attentively but keep quiet, showing no attitude. It seems that he understands my mood, so my father is not happy.

I still remember that before the midterm math test in the first semester, I had in my hand a 2004 collection of beautiful short stories that Mr. Duc and Uncle Hai’s son borrowed with a sob that he couldn’t find any interesting books. than. So I secretly read until late at night, despite my father’s reminder to review. As a result, the next morning, when I did the test, I could not concentrate my thoughts, confused for a long time. In the end, I miscalculated the answer.

For several days, I was nervous and scared. I’m not only worried about getting bad grades, but I’m also worried about my father’s reputation. Dad will talk to students and colleagues when his son does not do well. On the day of the return, holding the test in my hand got a huge 3, I was really stunned. I was ashamed, embarrassed, and angry at my father. Dad can fix the score, but why are you so blunt? Moreover, after dinner, in front of the whole family, my father sadly said that because I was subjective, stubborn and did not listen, I was in a bad mood.

When I think about it, I think my dad is right. I can only blame myself. The first and only point 3 is like a strict warning for me: Not to be arrogant and complacent in studying and to be serious and careful in all work, even small ones.

After that, I quickly erased my guilt, fell in love with Math and also loved “teacher dad” like Mr. Thao before. At the end of 7th grade, I still won the title of Excellent Student. On the day of receiving the award and certificate of merit, I solemnly gave it to my father with both hands. My father praised me for trying so hard, worthy of being his son. I was so moved that I was speechless.

That story has now become a memory, although it is a sad memory, its meaning is extremely poignant and lasting. It is not only a profound lesson for me in my student life, but it will be a useful lesson for a lifetime.

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