Story One

Once upon a time a psychology professor walked around on a stage while teaching stress management principles to an auditorium filled-with students.As she raised a glass of water, everyone expected they'd be asked the typical glass half empty or glass half full question. Instead, with a smile on her face, the professor asked "How heavy is this glass of water I'm holding?"

Students shouted out answers ranging from eight ounces to a couple pounds. She replied, "From my perspective, the absolute weight of this glass doesn't matter. It all depends on how long I hold it. If I hold it for a minute or two. it's fairly light. If I hold it for an hour straight, its weight might make my arm ache a little. If I hold it for a day straight, my arm will likely cramp up （抽筋） and feel completely numb and paralyzed, forcing me to drop the glass to the floor. In each case, the weight of the glass doesn't change, but the longer I hold it, the heavier it feels to me."

As the class nodded their heads in agreement, she continued, “Your stresses and worries in life are very much like this glass of water. Think about them for a while and nothing happens. Think about them a bit longer and you begin to ache a little. Think about them all day long, and you will feel completely numb and paralyzed – incapable of doing anything else until you drop them."

Story Two

One day a bright student wishing to be successful put this question to Socrates(苏格拉底）.

“Teacher, I have studied many years with you and even though I have learned many things I still have not learned the secret to success or what it really takes to be successful. Please train me in this mystery.”

Socrates looked at his student with a thoughtful expression and after a long pause, he responded. “My son, the secret is within each one of us if we only truly want it. If you walk-with me, I will take you to the river of life and show you.”

They walked side by side in silence for a while and upon reaching the river Socrates spoke. “My son, bend down here by-the edge of the river and stare deeply at these flowing waters." As the student bent down beside the river Socrates took him by the neck and plunged his head into the water. After only a few seconds (that felt like eternity to the young man), he started struggling to get his head out of the water, gasping for a breath.

After a couple of minutes, suddenly some inner strength burst into the young man and he pushed himself out of the water and gulped in precious air. After a few deep breaths he composed himself and pondered what had just happened. Was his teacher mad at him? What other reason would he act so strange?

The student blurted out, "Why did you do that?!"

Socrates answered rhetorically, "While your head was underwater, what was the one thing you wanted more than anything in life?"

“To take a breath of air to be able to stay alive,” he said.

“It is just as I told you earlier, the secret to success is already inside all of us. When you desire success as much as you wanted that breath of air, you will be successful.”

My name is Brooke Parsons, and the story of my life is different. One day, in April, 1993, I was home alone when I had a stroke. When my parents came home, they took me to the hospital to learn what lay ahead for all of us. The stroke has left me with permanent brain damage. The doctors suggested I quit school. However, I chose the opposite.

After returning to high school, I learned very slowly. I had to decide whether or not to complete the twelfth grade in 2 years. Thinking I would fail if I chose to do it in one year, finally I made my decision. The staff at school were very supportive and helped me through the rough times. Finally, I graduated from high school. Graduating from high school was a huge achievement for me. That was an opportunity for me to be really proud of just how far I had come with all the odds I had to beat.

I can now walk, talk, dress myself, feed myself and be the independent person I am today. I have achieved my VCE and I am now at university, studying to be a social worker. I have been a scholarship winner. I have become a life-long member of the local musical band. All of these achievements are beyond my imagination. Now I am even in a novel called Second Chances by Neil Mitchall.

I could have easily listened to the doctors when I first had my stroke, but I decided I was going to prove them wrong as they did not know me, nor did they know just how determined I would be.

It’s a big world out there. I have done and achieved so much and never once will I allow the odds to get the better of me, as there is still a whole lot more things out there for me to do. I love life and I am living it to the maximum

Dear Maya Shao-ming,

To me, June 6, 1990 is a special day. My long-awaited dream came true the minute your father cried, “A girl!” You are more than just a second child, more than just a girl to match our boy. You, little daughter, are the link to our female line, the legacy of another woman’s pain and sacrifice 31 years ago.

Let me tell you about your Chinese grandmother. Somewhere in Hong Kong, in the late fifties, a young waitress found herself pregnant (怀孕) by a cook, probably a co-worker at her restaurant. She carried the baby to term, suffered to give it birth, and kept the little girl for the first three months of her life. I like to think that my mother—your grandmother—loved me and fought to raise me on her own, but that the daily struggle was too hard. Worn down by the demands of the new baby and perhaps the constant threat of starvation, she made the painful decision to give away her girl so that both of us might have a chance for a better life.

More likely, I was dropped at the orphanage (孤儿院) steps or somewhere else. I will probably never know the truth. Having a baby in her unmarried state would have brought shame on the family in China, so she probably kept my existence a secret. Once I was out of her life, it was as if I had never been born. And so you and your brother and I are the missing leaves on a family tree.

Do they ever wonder if we exist?

Before I was two, I was adopted by an Anglo couple. Fed three square meals a day, I grew like a wild weed and grasped all the opportunities they had to offer—books, music, education, church life and community activities. In a family of blue-eyed blonds, though, I stood out like a sore thumb. Whether from jealousy or fear of someone who looked so different, my older brothers sometimes teased me about my unpleasing skin, or made fun of my clumsy walk. Moody and impatient, burdened by fears that none of us realized resulted from my early years of need, I was not an easy child to love. My mother and I conflicted countless times over the years, but gradually came to see one another as real human beings with faults and talents, and as women of strength in our own right. Lacking a mirror image in the mother who raised me, I had to seek my identity as a woman on my own. The Asian American community has helped me regain my double identity.

But part of me will always be missing: my beginnings, my personal history, all the delicate details that give a person her origin. Nevertheless, someone gave me a lucky name “Siu Wai”. “Siu” means “little”, and “Wai” means “clever”. Therefore, my baby name was “Clever little one.” Who chose those words? Who cared enough to note my arrival in the world?

I lost my Chinese name for 18 years. It was Americanized for convenience to “Sue”. But like an ill-fitting coat, it made me uncomfortable. I hated the name. But even more, I hated being Chinese. It took many years to become proud of my Asian origin and work up the courage to take back my birth-name. That, plus a little knowledge of classroom Cantonese is all the Chinese culture I have to offer you. Not white, certainly, but not really Asian, I try to pave the way between the two worlds and bridge the gap for you. Your name, “Shao-ming”, is very much like mine—“Shao” means “little”. And “ming” is “bright”, as in a shining sun or moon. Whose lives will you brighten, little Maya? Your past is more complete than mine, and each day I cradle you in your babyhood, generously giving you the loving care I lacked for my first two years. When I pat you, I comfort the lost baby inside me who still cries for her mother.

Sweet Maya, it doesn’t matter what you “become” later on. You have already fulfilled my wildest dreams.

I love you.

Mammy

【推荐3】Volunteering means working for free to help someone else. Mrs. Obama says volunteering is very important. “It should be part of everyone’s life,” she says.

Many teens agree. They say that helping others feels great and makes a difference. These days, more teens volunteer than work for pay. Teens clean up parks, walk dogs at animal shelters, visit the elderly, and more.

Some cities, including Seattle, Chicago, and Washington D.C., require high school students to volunteer. Students must volunteer in order to graduate. The student volunteers learn new skills and help their communities.

Many parents subscribe to the idea, saying volunteering helps teens build job skills. But most teens don’t want to be forced to volunteer. They say they are busy. And they say volunteering is only fun if it’s a choice.

Read both sides of the debate and decide.

1）Volunteering can help teens get into college or get a job;

2）Many cities and towns need help. Volunteers can help keep important programs going;

3）Not all teens will volunteer if it isn’t required. Students are demanded to have this record for graduation, and get ready for adult life.

1）Most teens are already very busy with classes, homework, jobs, and sports. Forcing them to do more isn’t fair;

2）It should be up to each person. Helping doesn’t feel good if you must do it;

3）Finding a volunteer job isn’t always easy. Students shouldn’t be kept from graduating because of something they can’t control.