The 82-year-old teacher and her 300 strays in one viral essay

Traffic for good: A new model of philanthropy in the short-video era

Zhang Xiaoqiu (章小秋), 82, spent 36 years teaching Chinese at a primary school. In the 27 years since her retirement, however, she has taken on a completely different role: guardian to over 300 stray cats and dogs.

Today, she became a sensation on the Chinese internet.

A vlogger who goes by "I am Si Yang" (我是四羊) posted a video inviting Ms. Zhang to take on a college entrance exam essay challenge. She drew the prompt titled "The Last Lesson Before Graduation", and wrote about her life after three decades in the classroom: how she took on debt to devote herself to rescuing stray animals.

At the end of the video, the vlogger leveraged his influence to secure sponsorship from Chinese electrical appliance manufacturer Midea that cleared Ms Zhang's debts, and replaced long-broken air conditioners, refrigerators, and heaters at the rescue shelter.

Within four hours of being posted, the video had racked up more than 100,000 likes. Netizens were moved by the surging love beneath Zhang's simple, unadorned prose, and they applauded the tangible good the video achieved.

"This is what corporate responsibility looks like: from the people and for the people. Well done, Midea," a netizen commented under the appliance sponsor's account.

This represents a new form of philanthropy in the short-video era: influencers leverage the traffic they generate to attract money and sponsorship, helping those in need. They then turn these acts into content, which the broader public supports with likes and praise, feeding back into the influencer's success.

The warmth of countless strangers converges through the power of influencers, and then travels outward again, carried to faraway corners.

One long comment under the video captured the mood:

"Ms. Zhang Xiaoqiu, I will remember this name. This last lesson before graduation hits harder than 53-degree liquor. While I was awed by your writing, I also felt the difficulty of the present, the reluctance to let go of the past, the bitterness of bowing to life’s hardships, and your worry for the children. From educating people to nurturing animals, you have spent your life burning yourself to illuminate others. Thank you to this internet platform for letting me see you, a distant candle flame, and allowing me to be your student for these brief few minutes. Thank you to the teacher, the creator, and Midea. I think this is what the internet is supposed to show us. I wish you all the best and good health."

Another reason I am sharing this story is that Ms. Zhang's essay moved me deeply. I have humbly translated her Chinese into English so more people can understand her message, though I am fully aware that my hasty translation can hardly capture the full grace and purity of her original words.

Therefore, I have included both the Chinese and English versions below for your reference.

《毕业前的最后一课》

The Last Lesson Before Graduation

章小秋Zhang Xiaoqiu

那个小伙子又来看我了，他说要给我礼物，但前提是要写一篇作文，已经很多年不曾拿起笔了，今天我就写我的《毕业前的最后一课》。

That young man came to see me again. He said he wanted to give me a gift, but only if I wrote an essay. It has been many years since I last picked up a pen, yet today I am writing my "Last Lesson Before Graduation".

我叫小秋，是一位退休的小学语文老师，前半生教书育人，让孩子们接受启蒙教育，在书本的课堂里，我常常可以领略生命的真谛。

My name is Xiaoqiu. I am a retired primary-school Chinese teacher. In the first half of my life, I taught and guided children as they took their first steps in learning. In those quiet classrooms, among pages and chalk-dust, I often glimpsed the marrow of life.

刚退休时，机缘巧合，我收养了一只小流浪猫。于是救助毛孩子们的路就一去不复返了。在生命的课堂里，我已学习了 82 年之久。

Right after I retired, by a stroke of fate, I adopted a little stray cat. From that moment on, there was no turning back. In the great classroom of life, I have now been a student for eighty-two years.

我年轻时曾想过我的晚年该如何度过，出去旅游，给闺女照顾孩子，在公园里跳跳舞等。可真没想到，最后我租了个院子，养上了一群咿咿呀呀的孩子。开始我还以为我的退休工资能养活它们，但现在是欠了好多钱啊，我想这个院子或许就是我毕业前的最后一间教室了吧！最后一间教室里的最后一课该讲什么呢？也许该讲讲告别的写法了。

When I was young, I pictured my later years: traveling, helping my daughters with their children, dancing in the park. I never imagined that, in the end, I would rent a small courtyard and fill it with a whole crowd of babbling little ones. At first I thought my pension could hold them all. But now I owe so much money. And I cannot help thinking: perhaps this courtyard is my last classroom before graduation. If so, what should the last lesson be? Perhaps it is time to teach how to say goodbye.

我这辈子教过很多学生，但这些毛孩子，是我教得最久也最放心不下的一届。第一次见它们每一个的样子，我都历历在目，在路边发抖的，在雨里淋透的，还有被鲜血糊了一身的……把它们一个个带回来，是我做过的最不后悔的决定。我伤感与它们的别离，我唯一能做的事就是借此机会为我的女儿立下遗嘱。

I have taught many students in my life. But these furry children are the ones I have taught the longest, and the ones I cannot bear to leave. I can still see the first time I met each of them, as if it were yesterday: the ones shivering by the roadside, the ones drenched through in rain, the one plastered in blood… Bringing them home, one by one, is the choice I have never once regretted. I grieve for our coming separation, and the only thing I can do now is take this opportunity to set out my last will for my daughters.

我咨询了一些相关人士，按目前的标准，有二十六年教龄的我，走后的安葬和抚恤费大概有六七万块钱。我要求女儿们把我的后事最大从简，把剩余的钱全部留给基地的毛孩子们，以解决我毕业后基地资金的严重短缺问题。我相信我的女儿们会理解妈妈的。

I have consulted with the relevant people. By today's rules, with my twenty-six years of teaching, the money set aside for my burial and bereavement payment would be about sixty to seventy thousand yuan. I have told my daughters to keep my funeral as simple as it can be, and to leave all that remains to the furry children at the rescue base, to ease the sharp shortage of funds that will come when I am gone. I believe my daughters will understand their mother.

我还能陪它们多久呢，我脑海中想过很多次。不知哪天，就是没有预告的终场篇，而那天或许就是这 300 多个毛孩子的毕业礼—我从人间这所大学校提前离席，而它们永恒的课程还尚未结束。请继续学习信任，学习在失去我的怀抱后，继续信任下一双伸来的手。

How much longer will I be able to stay with them? I have turned that question over in my mind so many times. One day, without warning, the final page will arrive. And that day may become a graduation ceremony for more than three hundred small lives: I will graduate early from this great school called life, while their course has not yet reached the end. Please, keep learning trust. Learn, after my arms are no longer there, to trust the next hands that reach for you.

爱你们这件事—我，永远不会毕业。

Loving you, this is one thing I will never graduate from.