Ah Dc was hungry again. This was not surprising, for he had only eaten half a bread since morning. It was already late afternoon. and sleeping was not going to help him drive off the hunger anymore. He slowly lowered himself from the platform he was on and made his way home from the disused bridge he was sleeping on.

The home was a run-down house with so many holes through its walls and roof (屋顶) that the wind practically whistled through it when the rainy season approached. Ah De loved the music of the wind then. It helped him forget the cold that covered his thin body. Though his house was in a poor condition. Ah De still smiled as he thought of his mother’s face. She was a wonderful woman who never forgot to make him feel treasured. They were alone in this lonely part of Vietnam, his father having died in the war. She made her living by washing clothes for other families, while Ah De did his part by eating little and staying out of her way. But in the evenings. she would put her arms around Ah De and tell him the loveliest stories of courage and adventure. Ah De knew that he would do all he could to make his mother happy.

Suddenly, a burst of beautiful music came to Ah De’s cars from the air. Ah De turned around to where the sound was coming from. He saw a group of people coming down the road. welcoming the brightly-colored silk chair that was carried by four strong men. The children of the village were all dancing around the chair, wild with joy. Ah De’s curiosity was aroused. The children were usually not so active. Why were they so excited now? He rushed after the group and tried his best to find out what was happening.

He finally found out that the man in the silk chair was an important man in the capital

Ah De excitedly went home with the news.

When lightning struck

I was in the tiny bathroom in the back of the plane when I felt a jolt (颠簸). and then the horrible swerve (急转弯) that threw me against the door. Somehow, I managed to unlock the door and climb out awkwardly. The flight attendants, all with their seat belts fastened, waved wildly for me to sit down. As I struggled toward my seat, passengers looked up at me with the panic-stricken expressions of creatures who knew they were about to die.

“I think we got hit by lightning,” the girl in the seat next to mine said, her voice shaking. She was from a small town in east Texas, and this was only her second time on an airplane. She had won a trip to London by competing in a high school geography bee and was supposed to make a connecting flight when we landed in Newark.

Across the aisle sat a charming young woman, who had been working on her laptop. Now she put it away. She looked around and then her eyes met mine. “Are you OK?” she asked me. I forced a smile back, when the pilot’s voice came over the speaker. I heard vaguely through my fear, “Engine number two...emergency landing... New Orleans.” When he was done, the voice of a flight attendant came on, reminding us of the emergency procedures she had reviewed before takeoff. Understandably, I had never paid attention to this drill, always figuring that if we ever got to the point where we needed to use life jackets, I would have already died of terror.

Now we began a roller-coaster ride through the thunderclouds. I was ready to faint, but when I saw the face of the girl next to me, I pulled myself together, reached for her hand and reassured her that we were going to make it, “What a story you’re going to tell when you get home!” I said. “After this, London’s going to seem like small potatoes.”

I wondered where I was getting my strength.

And then...we landed safely.