I was in America reading a British news article about a French helicopter crash that involved a Hong Kong boy that was my student in China.

http://www.theguardian.com/world/2013/dec/21/chinese-hotelier-french-wine-entrepreneur-helicopter-crash

Charles was the student who had me wrapped around his finger.
Make that eight fingers and two thumbs.
I didn’t get upset when he left QQ wrappers in the desk.
Which he did.
And I’ll miss.
I gave him atomic fireballs and lemon heads for speaking up in class.
 

I allowed him to shoot rubber bands at the 8th graders while they gave presentations.
He was shy and the spittin’ image of his father whom I met at teacher conferences. Lam thanked me for teaching his son and chuckled at Charles’ photo-shopping of a school project.

Charles Jobs.

The ocean isn’t big enough for all of our tears. I’ll miss Charles’ comments in class, especially his desire to know everyone’s favorite color.
He was supposed to eat stinky cheese for me in Paris (he missed the weird food party we had in class since he left a day before Christmas break began).
Charles didn’t finish his novel. Why? I excused Charles and other students to play in the snow—yes snow— instead of working on their stories in class.
Good choice.
Charles made a mini snowman which he brought into my classroom.

It melted all over his desk but left a beautiful memory.
 

Life and death are one thread,
 

the same line viewed from different sides. Lao Tzu

生命和死亡是一个线程，从不同的侧面老子看同一行