【推荐1】Ranjan and Sumer were good friends. They went to the same school and were in the same class.

Ranjan was not strong. He could not play football or other games with boys of his age.All that he did was to watch Sumer and other boys play. He usually went with them to the playground. When they ran off to play, he would sit under a tree and read storybooks. Books became his best friends. The reading made him successful in all the exams. He always stood first in the class.

Sumer was tall and athletic. He spent most of his time running, swimming or riding bicycles. He was an extremely good player in every game. He was a member of the school's football team and cricket team. The PE teacher thought he would make it big in the game when he grew up.

One day, the two friends went for a walk. Ranjan got tired soon.

“I have no strength. What is the use of all this knowledge? If I am not healthy? I would give away all my knowledge if I could be half as healthy and strong as you," said Ranjan.

Sumer was surprised and replied, “So you are not happy with yourself too? I always wished I could have done as well as you did in the studies. I even thought I could have given away my sporting skills for better grades in those exams. ”

The two friends looked at each other and cried out at the same time? “The grass looks greener on the other side of the hill. ”

【推荐2】My Grandpa Forgets Who I Am

A few days ago I visited my grandfather in hospital. He has Alzhemier’s-a degenerative disease that usually starts slowly and gets worse over time. I thought I was prepared to see him. I knew chances were slim that he’d actually recognize me.

He didn’t. As a matter of fact, he had no idea that he even had grandchildren. But he was excited that somebody came to visit him. I tried to explain to him who I was. But after he told me multiple times that he didn’t have grandchildren, I gave up. And my heart broke into a million little pieces.

I was tired of explaining things to him. So I just smiled. He smiled back. It’s a genuine smile. Like a long time ago, when he’d take me by the hand and made this big world a little bit less scary for me. Now I have to take his hand.

We sat in silence for a little while, before he told me to call my grandma. This was the first time I had tried so hard to hold back tears. My grandma died four years ago and he didn’t remember. He thought she was stuck on her way to pick him up.

My grandpa used to be a strong, hard-working man. He was the person you turned to when you needed your car fixed, your tires changed or something heavy to be carried. Sadly, that man left this world a long time ago, and left behind a man that is lost and scared.

I want to help him. I want to make him feel better. I want to tell him about his old life, and how great it was. So I sat with him and I held his hand, and every once in a while I told him how good he looked and how much I liked the color of his shirt and how it brought out the blue in his eyes. I told him that my grandma was on her way whenever he asked about her, and I made sure the glass in his hand was always filled with water.

I can’t take away his pain. I can’t help him remember. I can’t make the disease go away. All I can do is hold on to the memories-hold on for both of us.

【推荐3】Four days after Dad’s 67^th birthday, he had a heart attack. Luckily, he survived. But something inside him had died. His enthusiasm for life was gone. He refused to follow doctor’s orders, and his sour attitude made everyone upset when they visited him. Dad was left alone.

So I asked Dad to come to live with me on my small farm, hoping the fresh air would help him adjust. Within a week after he moved in, I regretted the invitation. He criticized everything I did. I became frustrated. Something had to be done.

One day I read an article which said when given dogs, depressed patients would be better off. So I drove to the animal shelter that afternoon. As soon as I got there, a pointer’s eyes caught my attention. They watched me calmly.

A staff member said: “He got here two weeks ago and we’ve heard nothing. His time is up tomorrow.”

I turned to the man in horror. “You mean you’re going to kill him”

“Ma’am,” he said gently. “We don’t have room for every unclaimed dog.”

The police’s calm brown eyes awaited my decision. “I’ll take him,” I said.

I drove home with the dog on the front seat beside me. I was helping it out of the car when Dad walked onto the front porch. “Look what I got you!” I said excitedly.

Dad wrinkled his face. “I don’t want it,” he muttered, turning back towards the house. Then, suddenly, the dog pulled free from my grasp. He sat down in front of my Dad.

Dad’s anger melted, and soon he was hugging the dog.

This was the beginning of a warm friendship. Dad named the dog Cheyenne. Together they spent long hours walking down dusty lanes and relaxing on the banks of streams.

Dad’s bitterness faded, and he and Cheyenne went on to make many friends. Then, late one night two years later, I felt Cheyenne’s cold nose burrowing (搜寻) through my bed covers. He had never before come into my bedroom at night. I ran into my father’s room and found that he had passed away.

Two days later, my shock and grief deepened when I discovered Cheyenne lying dead beside Dad’s bed. As I buried him near their favorite stream, I silently thanked the dog for restoring Dad’s peace of mind.