Linda went for a job interview at a firm that had several start-up businesses under its wing. She applied to be Executive Secretary of the CEO, but her chance of getting the job was slim because she came in late for the interview.

“I’m truly sorry I have come late, sir,” Linda apologized. “But I had an emergency to attend to earlier today and that is why I couldn’t make it on time. I hope you can give me a chance,” she added. “But the job is to be my secretary and being late for your interview is just not good,” George, the CEO, told her. “I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to hire you.” Depressed, Linda left.

When Linda got home, her son Jack found that something seemed to be bothering his mom. Then he asked, “What’s wrong, Mom? How did the job interview go?” “I didn’t get the job, son. I didn’t make it in time for the interview,” she sighed. Jack was almost crying upon hearing this, but Linda tired to comfort him. “It’s all right, son. There are many other jobs I can apply for. It’s no big deal,” she said, hugging him.

The following day, Jack copied the address from his mother’s notebook and came to George’s office without telling his mom. “Hi, sir, I’m Jack. My mom came for an interview yesterday, but you rejected her. Could you please give her a second interview, sir?” he said to the CEO.

“Why should I give her another chance?” George asked. “It was because of my fault that she didn’t make it on time. I accidentally dropped some food juice on my shirt. She had to wash it because it was the only uniform that I could wear in school. It took a while to remove the stain (污渍), so she was late,” Jack said.

“My mom works hard, sir. My parents once ran a cleaning supply and equipment business. Owing to something unexpected, the company was closed down. My parents had to start all over again,” Jack continued.

George listened thoughtfully and began to feel sorry for Linda. He thought the position of Marketing Director would better suit Linda since she had relevant experience. Then he told Jack that he would give his mom a second chance.

The next day, Linda received a call from George, who informed her that she could have a second chance.

Calming down, Linda asked George why he had changed his mind and had given her another chance.

I wouldn’t have achieved any success in writing without my grandma and my husband’s encouragement.

The summer I turned 11 I spent two weeks with my grandparents. There were no other kids in the neighborhood. I was afraid I would die of boredom. I missed my friends back in my hometown, missed riding my bike everywhere. I even missed my brother and sister.

One afternoon Grandma was in the kitchen. “When’s Grandpa coming home?” I asked. Maybe he’d take us for a ride out.

“He’s out of town for a meeting and won’t be home till tomorrow.” She opened the door and the heat came out.

“I'm bored,” I said. “There’s nothing to do here.”

“Oh, there’s plenty to do,” she said. “You just have to use your imagination.”

Oh, I had an imagination all right. At night I’d call to Grandma from the guest room, terrified that I heard a noise in the closet or saw a face at the window. “There’s no one here but us,” Grandma would say, rubbing my back until I fell asleep.

It’s too bad that imagination deserted me in the daytime. “I can’t think of anything,” I said.

“How about a little trip?” she asked.

We walked along the brick sidewalks. We crossed the street. I saw the movie theater. My heart began to race. I loved movies! But, no, Grandma walked right past the theater. “Here we are,” she said, stopping in front of a store. “I thought you might like to go to Switzerland.”

“But this is a bookstore,” I said. Had the heat gone to Grandma’s head?

She pushed open the glass door, nodded to the sales clerk and walked to the children’s section. Her fingers danced along the covers of the books until they came to a thick volume bound in brown cloth. She pulled it off the shelf and handed it to me.

“Here you go. It’s one ticket to the snow­covered Alps, Switzerland.”

I looked at the title. “Heidi?” I’d never heard of it. “Is it any good?”

“There’s only one way to find out. It’s about a girl who goes to stay with her grandfather like you!”

At the start of the school year, I had to tell everyone about my summer. My voice slid down my throat and wouldn’t come back up no matter how many times I coughed.

That speech only took 30 seconds. But this time, I had three weeks to research and write my speech. When I asked for advice at dinner on the last Friday, Dad said, “Well now, Kyna, a speech is like this table. The top is your topic. Your main points are the legs. If you don’t have enough it’ll just fall over.”

He was no help to me. All I was doing to write this speech was staring at the computer screen. When Mom came to my bedroom that night, she asked, “When is this speech due?”

“Monday. I hate speaking in front of people,” I said.

“There’s nothing to fear here,” she said. “Know what I did when I had to give my first speech? I drew pictures. I showed them what I could do well and talked about it. I got a round of applause (掌声).”

Mom drew so well that you believed it could be real. I have a picture on my wall to prove it-a street leading out of my room up to a castle on a hill that has me traveling there in my dreams almost every night. That night when I went in through the keep (堡垒) of the castle and entered the kitchen, I was blinded by a flash of bright light- Penelope, the princess I imagined living there held up an old-fashioned camera.

When I woke up in the morning, I had a plan for how to prepare for my speech. That Sunday, I practiced the speech until my voice went hoarse(嘶哑的).

On Monday, Mom and Dad drove me to school, and I wore my favorite sunglasses, made out of the lenses (镜片) of two old cameras.

Behind a camera is where I felt the most comfortable, especially with Mom and Dad right there with me, sitting in the back of the classroom with a few grandparents who came to hear the speeches.

When I stood up in front, the whole class looked like they would if I put them on the other side of my camera.

Dad clapped his hands together loud and clear.

I worked at a local university and our office was staffed with a few student workers. One of the students was a member of an amateur soccer team that needed a player. She overheard me talking to another student about how I’d always wanted to play soccer, but never got the chance. The soccer player offered to let me come and try out for the position.

I was excited and scared. Excited at the thought of doing something I’d always wanted to do, but scared that I was too out of shape and too old to keep up with athletic twenty-year-olds. There was no harm trying out, though. I agreed to be on the field for practice.

My husband and children thought I was crazy but I didn’t care. I didn’t move much while doing my job at the university and I’d just taken up running to turn back the clock a little. I had all the mom responsibilities, too. Between my work and family responsibilities, finding time for myself seemed impossible, but I knew playing soccer with kids would motivate me to keep active.

I showed up with butterflies in my stomach and low expectations. I just knew once they saw how out of shape I was, they’d let me kick the ball a few times and then look for a younger girl. During drills, I was slow and got breathless easily, but my desire to do that made me drive forward. Maybe they were touched by my spirit or maybe they just needed a player—they let me in anyhow.

I couldn’t have been happier! They took my shirt size, jersey (球衣) number and my team name. I chose “Mama Platt” because it was what a couple of the students called me, and I chose my dad’s soccer number from high school: 7. I still remember the moment I stood in a sporting goods store. Was that really happening? I couldn’t believe it. These girls were actually going to let me be a part of the team!

In order not to let my team down, I decided to improve myself.

We won our first game, our second and our third.