After a long day of studying, I decided to take a walk on the streets to escape stress. Then I saw a hotel being built.The road in front of it was half blocked by the bricks and half by pits (坑) filled with water. I really had to think a lot to cross that messy road without getting my clothes dirty. When I was doing this struggle, my eyes fell on a little kid about 6 years old, who was smiling at me.She was playing with the water in a pit. That innocent (天真的) smile touched my heart so deeply that it made me forget everything, the study pressure, the lecture of teachers, the struggle to save my clothes. Unaware of troubles in her life, she was happy in playing in the dirty pit. I waved back to her in return for her magic smile and moved forward.

The next day, I felt the same stress. Again, I took a walk along the same street. My eyes searched a bit and then felt another pair of eyes watching me, as if waiting for me. When she recognized me, she gave me that smile for which I was waiting for 24 hours. After that again a wave in return.

I went into the shop near that hotel to buy a bottle of water, I asked the shop owner about the girl. He said, “She’s suffering from a disease and needs an operation. Her father is working hard in building the hotel to earn money. If only they could get enough money soon. The disease kept her from going to school. Every day, she plays alone, but she is never seen crying.”

I felt the desire to do something for the girl whose smile had cured me. I found out my favorite doll I had kept for many years and planned to give it to her. I even set about surfing the Internet to find ways to help the poor family. The next day, I was expecting to see her playing near the hotel and give her a surprise, but she was not there.

I stepped into the shop, trying to find out what had happened to the girl.

I started to help raise money for the girl’s operation through the social media.

I work in a foreign capital company. Although the company is a little far from my home, I have my own car. So I drive myself to and from work every day. Tom is my good workmate. Sometimes we work overtime in the company and get off work together. He often goes home by bus.

One day, it was cold outside. It seemed that the snowstorm would be approaching. As usual, Tom and I worked overtime in the company. After finishing the work, we were ready to go home together. Tom went to wait for the bus, and I went to drive. But it snowed harder and harder, and the bus stopped. So I was going to give Tom a ride.

I was heading home after giving Tom a ride, and I took a shortcut to get home early as the snowstorm was approaching.

Then the snowstorm started and was coming down fast. Within minutes I was in a white out. The windows were frozen and getting covered with snow, so I slowed down and rolled down my driver’s side window, thinking I could better follow the road edge and keep to straight line. But really, I had no idea where I was. I was confused and didn’t know what to do.

At that time, I stopped and kept the car running to stay warm. I took a deep breath and was deep in thought. Later I called 911 and asked them for help. However, the operator told me that the weather was too bad to do me a favor and asked me to wait things out for the night.

The call made me feel afraid. Tom knew what happened to me. Suddenly, an idea occurred to him. “Maybe you could ask for help online and there must be some people living nearby your location and they can show you the right direction,” he told me on the phone.

I posted my location online and explained what I was searching for.

Then I saw a person wearing a long black coat in the dark.

“I want a friend!” my five-year-old’s clear blue eyes showed the pain of rejection. Noah is deaf, and the past couple of years have begun to show what the future holds for my little guy.

The first few years of his life, Noah had many friends in our neighborhood. Small children don’t talk a lot and are content to simply play. As time passed and Noah got to the age where speech and hearing were a noticeable part of “hanging out”, his friends started realizing he was different. Soon, no one came to play with my tiny son, and he too began to understand he was different. My heart has ached, and I have spent endless hours in tears, begging God to send him a friend. But the children at school come from everywhere, and none live near enough to “hang out” .

Noah recently began the heartbreaking hobby of writing and leaving mail on the porch (门廊) for his “friends” . He sticks his own toys to the notes, thinking that he can somehow make friends this way. I often have to retrieve (取回) his notes so that he thinks someone is getting his messages of friendship. His excited trips to the front porch the next morning would sometimes net him a feeling of having an unseen pen pal. It breaks my heart.

But today was different. I got a miracle—in fact, three of them.

My phone rang, and I was distracted with a long-distance friend, catching up with each other’s lives without noticing Noah slipping out the front door. It wasn’t until Nick, my sixteen-year-old son came home for lunch that Noah’s absence was known. Panic-stricken, Nick and I searched the house, yard, and garage ... no Noah.

As I searched the house again, a million frightened thoughts came through my brain.

I let them play until lunchtime, at last walking down the street to retrieve my child.

One Wednesday, many years ago, when I was working as a psychologist (心理医生) at a children's institution in England, a boy showed up in the waiting room. I went out there where he was walking up and down uneasily.

I showed him into my office and pointed to the chair on the other side of my desk. It was in late autumn, and most trees outside the window had lost all their leaves. "Please sit down," I said.

David wore a black rain coat that was buttoned all the way up to his neck. His face was pale, and he stared at his feet while wringing his hands nervously. He lost his father in a car accident 3 years ago. Before he came, his head teacher called and told me, "After his father's death, the boy becomes very sad and depressed. He refuses to talk to others or attend any activities or clubs. He has no social life at all. However, when his father was alive, the boy was active and talkative. After school, they would play chess games happily!"

I looked at David. How could I help him? Perhaps the best thing I can do is to listen openly and to be there for him. But I am still not sure what to do.

David didn't say a word, and only looked at the children's drawings on the wall behind me. As he was about to leave, I put my hand on his shoulder. He didn't step back, but he didn't look at me either. "Come back next week this time, if you like," I said. I hesitated a bit. Then I said, "I know it hurts."

Finally, he came and I took out a set of chess.