One day when I was 12, my mother gave me an order: I was to walk to the public library, and borrow at least one book for the summer. This was one more weapon for her to defeat my strange problem, my inability to read.

In the library, I found my way into the “Children’s Room”. I sat down on the floor and pulled a few books off the shelf at random. The cover of a book caught my eye. It presented a picture of a beagle. I had recently had a beagle, the first and only animal companion I ever had as a child. He was my secret sharer, but one morning, he was gone, given away to someone who had the space and the money to care for him. I never forgot my beagle.

There on the book’s cover was a beagle which looked identical to my dog. I ran my fingers over the picture of the dog on the cover. My eyes ran across the title, Amos, the Beagle with a Plan. Unknowingly, I had read the title. Without opening the book, I borrowed it from the library for the summer.

Under the shade of a bush, I started to read about Amos. I read very, very slowly with difficulty. Though pages were turned slowly, I got the main idea of the story about a dog who, like mine, had been separated from his family and who finally found his way back home. That dog was my dog, and I was the little boy in the book. At the end of the story, my mind continued to the final scene of reunion, on and on, until my own lost dog and I were, in my mind, running together.

My mother's call returned, me to the real world. I suddenly realized something.

And years later, she was proud that her son had read thousands of books, and was awarded a PhD in literature.

A MOTHER’S DAY SURPRISE

The twins were filled with excitement as they thought of the surprise they were planning for Mother’s Day. How pleased and proud Mother would be when they brought her breakfast in bed. They planned to make French toast (吐司) and chicken porridge (粥). They had watched their mother in the kitchen. There was nothing to it. Jenna and Jeff knew exactly what to do.

The big day came at last. The alarm rang at 6 a. m. The pair went down the stairs quietly to the kitchen. They decided to boil the porridge first. They put some rice into a pot of water and left it to boil while they made the French toast. Jeff broke two eggs into a plate and added in some milk. Jenna found the bread and put two slices into the egg mixture. Next, Jeff turned on the second stove burner (炉子) to heat up (加热) the frying pan. Everything was going smoothly until Jeff started frying the bread. The pan was too hot and the bread turned black within seconds. Jenna threw the burnt piece into the sink and put in the other slice of bread. This time, she turned down the fire so it cooked nicely.

Then Jeff noticed steam (蒸汽) shooting out of the pot and the lid (盖子) starting to shake. The next minute, the porridge boiled over and put out the fire. Jenna was afraid. Thankfully, Jeff stayed calm and turned off the gas quickly. But the stove was a mess now. Jenna told Jeff to clean it up so they could continue to cook the rest of the porridge. But Jeff’s hand touched the hot burner and he gave a cry of pain. Jenna made him put his hand in cold water. Then she caught the smell of burning. Oh dear! The piece of bread in the pan had turned black as well.

My great-grandmother Eileen is fierce, loyal and strong and a bit of a legend in her own lifetime, which now stretches to 92 years. I should add that we’re not allowed to call her Gran, because she says it makes her feel old.

That summer, I lost my job and felt hopeless. One day, I paid a visit to her. She picked up a box which she placed on the coffee table. “There you go,” she said. “You do know what you’re doing with these things, don’t you?”

It was a new phone. Her current mobile was pretty ancient. I was amazed it was still going.

“Yes,” I said.

“Good. That’s why I ask you. You young people know more about such things than us oldies. You can take it home with you and get it all set up,” she went on. “Then, when you bring it back, you can show me how to use my new phone, such as getting on the internet, sending e-mails and so on.” She smiled so sweetly that I felt a surge of love for her.

I grabbed the box and stood up. Setting up the phone would be easy. It was teaching her how to use it that may prove challenging.

The following day I headed back to my great-grandmother’s with the phone. “Here’s your phone. It’s all ready to use.”

For the next hour, I was busy setting up her passcode and fingerprint recognition, which she said was like something out of James Bond.

She chose a picture for her screen and it was all going so well until I tried to show her how to swipe (滑动屏幕) . “What do you mean, swipe?” she asked. She was 92, I reminded myself. This had been tiring for her.

She pressed at the up arrow and got angry when nothing happened. When I finally got her to swipe, she didn’t put the right amount of pressure on and the menu slipped away. After what seemed like hours, she threw the phone across the room and it landed on the sofa. “Take it away!” she howled. “I want my old phone back!”

I picked up the phone and was about to leave to give her time to cool down when I realized I didn’t want to go home when she was angry and upset.

“Come on, Eileen. You’ve been doing so well! One more try.” I said.

“No!” She insisted, “I just want my old phone back!”.

Pausing a few seconds, I stepped forward, hugged my Gran and gently explained that the old phone, just like an antique, was incapable of providing internet access or sending emails. “Please let go of the old one, and embrace the new world, Eileen.” I encouraged. “You can make it.”

Empowered by my words, she gathered the courage to give it one more shot.