good morning, ladies and gentlemen,
    last summer, i volunteered(動詞) to work as an english teacher in a primary school for children of migrant workers. to be accurate, i didn't volunteer. i was dragged in literally. when my friends first hit upon the idea of this project. i was all against it. 'what?' to spend my vacation standing in the heat yelling at a bunch of nine-year-olds who couldn't even speak proper mandarin chinese? and besides. there's no pay for my toil. no. i am definitely not going. my friends twisted my arms to have me join them.
    unexpectedly，the first lesson i taught turned out a lesson for me. the moment i stepped into the shabby classroom. i was touched by the loud, respectful voices in unison. 'good morning teacher !' instead of fooling around, the children were thirsty for knowledge and efficient in absorbing everything i was able to give them. this made me despise myself for i hadn't even prepared for the class. during the break. i leaned over the squeaky desk, chatting with a sweaty boy in the front row. "without air-conditioning, it's really hot here. are you tired?" not at all. said he. shaking his head. it's fine here. my dad builds asphalt roads. that is really tiring and hot.