An Insignificant Task

The day when the jobs were handed out was one of the most exciting for all the children in the class. It took place during the first week of the term. On that day, every boy and girl was given a job for which they would be responsible for the rest of that school year.

As with everything, some jobs were more interesting than others, and the children were eager to be given one of the best ones. When giving them out, the teacher took into account which pupils had been most responsible during the previous year, and those children were the ones who most looked forward to this day. Among them, Rita stood out. She was a kind and quiet girl. During the previous year she had carried out the teacher’s instructions perfectly. All the children knew Rita was the favourite to be given the best job of all: to look after the class dog.

But this year there was a big surprise. Each child received one of the normal jobs, like preparing the books for the lessons, telling the time, cleaning the blackboard, or looking after one of the pets. However, Rita’s job was very different. She was given a little box containing some sand and one ant. Even though the teacher insisted that this ant was a very special ant, Rita could not help feeling disappointed. Most of her classmates felt sorry for her. They sympathised with her and remarked at how unfair it was that she had been given that job.

Yet, Rita, who liked her teacher very much, chose to prove her worth through excellence. “I will turn this little task into something great,” Rita said to herself. What she didn’t know was that the teacher had secretly entered her into a rainforest insect raising competition.

Rita started investigating all about her little ant.

On the last day of the school year, the teacher burst into the classroom with excitement.

My son David was injured in his forehead so I had to take him to a hospital. I looked around the crowded waiting room in the hospital and sighed. I thought, “Will the doctor be able to see my eight-year-old son soon?” I tried steadying the ice pack (冰袋) over his forehead, but it was no use. I couldn’t stop shaking. The injury in his forehead was deep, but at least blood wasn’t pouring from it anymore.

His face was full of tears, but he seemed really brave for his age. I handed him the ice pack, and he covered his forehead with it. He was doing a much better job than I had. We were at the hospital because another child had thrown a rock at David during a break between classes as he was running around the corner. His teacher called me, and when I arrived, I found him sitting in front of her. His teacher was caring for his injury, trying to keep him calm. She felt terrible about what had happened, but I knew none of it was her fault.

David received four stitches (缝线) and didn’t cry once throughout the whole treatment. For the next two days, his forehead was swollen and black and blue. I felt like I’d had a mini nervous breakdown. Every time I tried to sleep or tend to housework, horrible thoughts crept into my mind. Fear had taken over, and then the fear turned to anger. I was angry with the child who’d thrown the rock. I just couldn’t shake it. What was she thinking? She should have known about that better.

David’s headmaster and teacher called me that evening to see how David was feeling and told me Cherry, the girl, felt terrible. I wanted to stand up for my son, do the right thing and protect him.

The next day, David’s teacher stopped by to see how David was feeling and dropped off a get-well card that Cherry had made. David and I read it several times, and I couldn’t help but feel a little choked up. It was a sincere apology.

This card mattered a lot to us.

We wondered how Cherry would make a response after reading the letter.

My little sister, Meg, said that she wasn’t afraid of the dark anymore and she’d be OK staying with Aunt Lily in the country. “As long as you’re there, Mike,” she had said. Still, Mum was worried. Meg had never slept away from home, away from the city. So I told Mum I could handle everything.

Even though we were only staying overnight, Meg had brought six books-all about fairies (仙女). After we unpacked, Aunt Lily invited us to pick some flowers. As we followed her through the forest, Meg held my hand tightly. But once we reached the sunlit grassland, she let go. “Butterflies!” whispered Meg. She screamed with delight when one flew near her.

Maybe I had nothing to worry about, I thought. I still remembered when I was here last summer, I found some amazing insects, like fireflies (萤火虫) and walking sticks which I’d never seen in the city.

“Fairies are magical. See these beautiful flowers they grow!” she kept telling absolutely everything she knew about fairies. I was glad that if she kept it up until bedtime, then maybe she’d fall right to sleep.

Meg did keep chatting, right through supper. Then the sun began to set. “Does it get really dark out here at night?” she asked. Her eyes were fixed on the window.

“Sure, but we’ve got plenty of lights inside,” said Aunt Lily. She leaned over and gave Meg a warm smile. But I could tell she was still worried. “I could read to you.”

I hadn’t even finished a page when her bottom lip started shaking slightly. “Mike,” she said, her eyes starting to fill. “I want to go home.” I quickly searched through her book for something to keep her from crying.

The book fell open to a page that was dog-eared from use, a page that was obviously one of Meg’s favorites.

The text read: “Among the trees deep in the forest, the lights of fairies gleam(闪烁).” Aha! How could I forget those “tiny fairies” out there?

“Meg, there’s something outside I want to show you,” I whispered.

“Tiny fairies, Mike!” she said, pressing her forehead against the window, “Everywhere!” They weren’t fairies, of course. But the winking light s really existed and were, in my opinion, better than magic. I wanted to tell Meg about these incredible insects that flashed in the dark, signaling to each other. Then I looked down into Meg’s shining eyes, and I decided she could learn about fireflies some other time. Meg was so absorbed in the breathtaking scene that she completely forgot her homesickness and soon fell asleep against my shoulder. I guess it turned out that I could handle everything-with a little help from the magic al fairies.

A 12-year-old boy saw something in a shop window. It was a necklace (项链) with shining pearls. But it needed five dollars.

Reuben couldn’t ask his father for the money. Everything his father made through fishing went to his mother, Dora, who struggled to feed and clothe her five children.

Nevertheless, he opened the shop’s door and went inside. He told the shopkeeper what he wanted, adding, “Once we went to New York, my mum saw a same one. I know she liked it very much, because she fixed her eyes on it. I will buy it for her. But I don’t have the money right now. Can you please hold it for me for some time?”

“I’ll try,” the shop owner smiled. “People around here don’t usually have that kind of money to spend on such good-looking but costly things. It should keep for a while.”

Reuben had made up his mind to raise the five dollars and not tell anybody.

Reuben had an idea. He could collect the hessian sacks (麻袋) thrown away in the street and sell them back for five cents a piece.

Every day after school, Reuben walked down the town, collecting the hessian sacks. Reuben kept on his secret task. Often, he was cold, tired and hungry, but the thought of the necklace in the shop window supported him.

Eventually, the time had come! It was Mothers` Day. He poured the coins (硬币) out and began to count (数). Then he counted again. He made it! Exactly five dollars, not a cent more, not a cent less.

Holding the money in hands, Reuben went to the shop.

Mother opened the box carefully, and a shining necklace appeared.

I looked over my grandma’s shoulder as she sewed pieces of cloth together. The two pieces became one faster than I’d imagined. The colors, however, looked ugly when put together and none of the patterns matched. All the patches (补丁) on this blanket seemed to disagree.

“Grandma, that’s the ugliest quilt (棉被) I’ve ever seen.”

“Oh, sweetie, it’s warm and beautiful,” said Grandma, pointing to a pile of crazy patterned shirts and suits.“I can take these old clothes that you and I will never wear again and turn them into something useful and good. It’s not the quilt’s appearance but the love that sews it together that makes it beautiful. This quilt will keep you warm on a cold night like tonight. And I know that for a fact.” Grandma put her hand on my shoulder, “Not everyone is as lucky as we are. Here, put on your coat. We’ll get a second opinion about how ugly my quilts are.”

Grandma folded a finished quilt and tucked it into a shopping bag. Afterwards, we got in the car and drove downtown. The white snow turned grayer as we got to the city. Eventually, Grandma stopped at a dark alley (胡同) and we got out of the car. The terrible smell of rotting garbage made me feel sick. Grandma took my hand and led me to the street lamp. I could see the snow shining in the light.

Grandma paused. “There’s usually somebody down this alley. It’s quiet and out of the wind—a good place to stay on cold nights. A nice warm quilt might make it even better.”

The dark swallowed Grandma and I as we stepped deep into the alley. The pavement was broken and missing in spots. Chicken bones and dirt y boxes littered their way. And Grandma’s shoes made a loud sound with each step. Feeling scared, I squeezed Grandma’s hand. Grandma squeezed my hand back. “It’s OK,” she smiled.

“Who’s there?” shouted a voice out of the darkness.

“I have a nice warm quilt, if you want it,” said Grandma. After a while, a lady walked out of the darkness. Grandma opened the shopping bag and pulled out the multicolored quilt. “That’s pretty and it looks warm,” the lady screamed and took the quilt, her eyes filled with tears of gratitude. As we left, I looked back and saw the lady holding the quilt tightly. “You’re right, Grandma. That is a beautiful quilt.” On our ride back home, the lady’s grateful words were still ringing in my ears.

One of my most memorable trips took place during the summer vacation about three years ago, when my sister, my aunt and I took a trip to Spain because we were moving. On the day of the trip, I lay in bed thinking about my friends whom I was going to leave behind and thoughts were flooding in. I was not comfortable and cried.

We had to book a van (厢式送货车) to take our luggage to the airport, because it was too much for a taxi. We waited for a long period to find a perfect van that would fit our luggage.

The journey was almost perfect at the beginning, but soon it began to rain. Because of the rain, the drivers could not see far away, which caused a huge traffic jam. I was sitting by the window with a can of Coke. My aunt and sister fell asleep, and during this time, I felt bored and thought about other things that bothered me. My eyes turned to the mountain in front of us.

A bus suddenly appeared in the picture. It was very close to us. Cars sped past us without any speed limit. Beside me was a very deep lake: I wondered to myself what if something or someone fell inside it. Suddenly, a bus in front of our van stopped, and because it was raining heavily and the van was going fast, no one could see what was going to happen. Then, bang, we bumped into each other. Our van overturned, but luckily, it didn’t fall into the lake. People came to help us get out of the van because we were blocked and the driver was half-dead.

We struggled to get out of the van and waited for the emergency aid to come.