【推荐1】There’re always some stories in life that can hardly be forgotten and will restore our hope for holidays every time we recollect (回忆起).

Johnny and I, along with our two young sons, Barry and Doyle, lived in a village in southern Alabama in 1979. We had bought the boys a bicycle for the New Year, and had hidden it in the garage, where Johnny would assemble (组装) it on New Year’s Eve after the kids fell asleep. But that day, Johnny had to go to Brookley Air Force Base in Mobile, an hour away, to repair a jet. I had my hands busy with baking, preparing for holiday dinner and caring for two energetic boys.

Just as I was making the chocolate cake, a neighbor knocked on the door. Beatrice was the only person on our road with a telephone. The base had called to say that a heavy tool had come apart suddenly, hitting Johnny’s arm and breaking the bone. My brother Oto took me to the base hospital while my mother stayed with the children.

We got there to find Johnny with a cast on his arm, anxious to get home regardless of the doctor’s orders. It was New Year’s Eve, Johnny argued, and he had the bike to assemble for his boys. The doctor said he’d consider dismissing him the next morning if Johnny could find someone to drive him home. On New Year’s morning, Johnny called the base and was told everyone was off duty; there was no one to drive him home. Then he tried the motor pool. They said orders would have to come from someone higher up, so Johnny kept making calls. At last, a big blue car with the Air Force sign rolled up.

I was putting dinner on the table when hearing the car. We were thrilled to see Johnny assisted by a uniformed Air Force officer. With Otto’s help, Johnny assembled the boys’ gift, and they all had a good time that afternoon. Our hearts were full of gratitude to the people who had gone the extra mile to bring us together.

【推荐3】My mother was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s (老年痴呆症)last summer. Suddenly, it was difficult for me to accept that the roles were now changed—my mother became my child, and I became her mother. I became impatient, argued with her, once I even yelled at her. Gradually, I was used to this kind of life. Now I am able to deal with her and the situation better. I have learned a lot of life lessons from the experience.

My mother reacts very sensitively to my feelings. That is typical of Alzheimer’s patients. When I visit her, feeling busy and tense, she reacts immediately, takes on my mood, and becomes nervous and negative. But when I appear cheerful and attentive, she is happy. This has taught me to pay more attention to my own feelings when I am with other people.

I always thought I was very tolerant, but in reality, my tolerance ran out as soon as someone turned away from what I considered “right”. With my mother I can now really be tolerant. Through her illness she has developed a childlike tactlessness(不得体). Eating out in restaurants, for example, is a bit embarrassing when she shouts at the waiter that the food is so bad or talks about people at the next table in a loud voice. Of course I make sure that my mother doesn’t hurt anyone, but I’ve stopped complaining about others and have become more tolerant.

I have also learned that everything has special value. When my mother got sick I didn’t want to burden my two daughters with it. They are young and have enough going on with their education, and starting their careers. I felt that it was simply my job as my mother’s daughter. The most wonderful discovery I’ve made through my mother’s disease may be that my children not only offer to help me when they sense that I’m feeling unbearable, but that they take care of my mother on their own actively. They visit her often, play cards with her, and look at photo albums together with her. It shows me that it’s all worth it.