My teenage son, Jordan, always complained about having to be home earlier than all his friends. He would tell me that he was already seventeen, but still had a curfew (宵禁). He believed he was practically an adult. I pointed out that he was not an adult as he was still in high school.

“You don’t trust me!” he yelled. Before I continued, he rolled his eyes, slammed the door and walked away. I sighed. How could I make Jordan see that I only wanted to keep him safe?

I decided to go for a walk, hoping the December air would clear my head. I opened the front door and nearly stepped on her: a small black cat, just like a meatball. “Hi, Meatball,” I said, bringing her into my arms. I walked back in, touching her neck gently. Meatball seemed happy enough to come in the house, but after an hour or two, she sat by the door, meowing to go back outside.

“Why won’t she just stay in with us all the time?” Nathan, my youngest son asked.

I explained to him that she was happy here but she liked being able to come and go as she pleased.

“That must be nice,” Jordan muttered from the other room, complaining why the cat, not him, could come and go. He even asked me to give Meatball a curfew.

Meatball became a regular.

One night, temperatures were unusually low. Meatball stood at the door, meowing to go outside.

I shook my head at her, afraid that she might freeze to death. She stared at me and meowed again. I patted her head, “I know you’re not happy, but it’s for your own good.”

“Mom’s not being mean to you,” Nathan told the cat. “She’s just trying to keep you from turning into a frozen meatball.” We both laughed at his joke.

The next morning, I couldn’t find Meatball. I asked the kids if anyone had seen her.

Jordan nodded, “I let her out last night.”

As I drove to the animal hospital, Jordan sat in the back, holding Meatball inside his coat.

A GIFT FOR GRANDPA

Summer vacation was coming. Jack and his brother Berlin were filled with excitement as they thought of visiting their grandparents again.

The big day came at last. After the happy family got ready, they set out for the grandparents’ eagerly. On the way, the brothers were excitedly talking about the fun they had with grandparents.

A little blue house with a tall white chimney finally appeared. Behind the property was the forest carrying their good memories with Grandpa. They arrived at the driveway, at the end of which Grandma was waiting for them joyfully.

Jack and Berlin each gave Grandma a big hug and then swept to the living room, shouting excitedly “Grandpa, we are back!”

Seeing his grandsons, Grandpa was wild with joy and tried to get up with all his strength from the chair but in vain. A helpless expression flashed on his face. Grandma explained that his health was declining rapidly and maybe couldn’t stand up on his own forever. But Grandpa declared stubbornly (倔强地), “I can!” Certainly, he was stuck in his boyish way. Mum and grandparents were happy to meet again after a long time. They sat together and chatted about what happened recently.

The brothers were soon bored with adult conversation, went out and wandered into the forest. Tall trees stretched up to the heavens with large branches crossing each other, while young ones rose straight like soldiers. Grandpa was once a great explorer full of wisdom. He could tell where the birds came from only by their calls and songs. The trees, birds, lizards, lots of bugs...How many merry moments they spent with Grandpa in the kingdom!

But now Grandpa couldn't get up. This made them worried. “We’d think out a way to cheer him up.” Jack said. “Grandpa is a bird lover, and we can catch him a bird.” Berlin suggested. “But he hates birds being caged!” Jack shook his head.

Then a bright idea came to Jack’s mind. “Why not make a cane (拐杖) out of a young tree!”

Berlin thought it was a good idea.

Jack and Berlin handed the cane to Grandpa.

As a single mother, I’ve never doubted my daughter Jane’s dream to be a singer on the stage. At an early age, she was crazy about singing. Whenever she had a chance, she would sing to her heart’s content. Her sweet and charming voice tended to get people around attracted to her songs.

Living in a small city, I took several odd jobs, determined to do everything in my power to support her. Soon after Jane attended school, her music teacher Mary noticed her talent by chance and volunteered to give her some guidance on how to sing. Jane practiced so hard that before long she made great progress in singing.

Unfortunately, one noon a year later, Jane was crossing the street when a careless driver knocked her down. She was rushed to hospital. When I hurried there, the doctor told me that my daughter would probably not stand on her own feet. I froze with shock, feeling as if I had been thrown into a dark world. Weak and dizzy, I was about to fall to the ground when someone took hold of me.

It was Mary, who got the news and raced here. She comforted me, saying firmly, “Grace, Jane needs you. You must stay calm and strong.” I nodded. Having calmed down, I entered the ward with Mary.

That night, Jane recovered her consciousness (知觉) and opened her eyes. Holding her hand, I said, “My dear, everything would be fine.” Mary comforted her gently, “I know you are a strong girl, Jane. Don’t worry. We’ll be standing by you.” I was heartbroken to see tears streaming down Jane’s cheeks.

After two months, we returned home from hospital. Her teachers and friends frequently visited her. Jane eventually accepted the fact that she would have to get around in a wheelchair. Never did she refer to the subject of singing again. I knew she was a nice and understanding girl, who was afraid that talking about her original dream would upset the two of us.

One day, however, Mary came with good news.

When the host announced it was Jane’s turn, she was wheeled onto the stage.

My great-grandmother Eileen is fierce, loyal and strong and a bit of a legend in her own lifetime, which now stretches to 92 years. I should add that we’re not allowed to call her Gran, because she says it makes her feel old.

That summer, I lost my job and felt hopeless. One day, I paid a visit to her. She picked up a box which she placed on the coffee table. “There you go,” she said. “You do know what you’re doing with these things, don’t you?”

It was a new phone. Her current mobile was pretty ancient. I was amazed it was still going.

“Yes,” I said.

“Good. That’s why I ask you. You young people know more about such things than us oldies. You can take it home with you and get it all set up,” she went on. “Then, when you bring it back, you can show me how to use my new phone, such as getting on the internet, sending e-mails and so on.” She smiled so sweetly that I felt a surge of love for her.

I grabbed the box and stood up. Setting up the phone would be easy. It was teaching her how to use it that may prove challenging.

The following day I headed back to my great-grandmother’s with the phone. “Here’s your phone. It’s all ready to use.”

For the next hour, I was busy setting up her passcode and fingerprint recognition, which she said was like something out of James Bond.

She chose a picture for her screen and it was all going so well until I tried to show her how to swipe (滑动屏幕). “What do you mean, swipe?” she asked. She was 92, I reminded myself. This had been tiring for her.

She pressed at the up arrow and got angry when nothing happened. When I finally got her to swipe, she didn’t put the right amount of pressure on and the menu slipped away. After what seemed like hours, she threw the phone across the room and it landed on the sofa. “Take it away!” she howled. “I want my old phone back!”

I picked up the phone and was about to leave to give her time to cool down when I realized I didn’t want to go home when she was angry and upset.

“Come on, Eileen. One more try.” I said.

I was not feeling so hopeless any more now.

When I arrived home from school, night was falling. A call came from the public: a bird of unknown species was being attacked by a group of noisy children in his front garden. He scared them off and grabbed their victim. I immediately called for my classmate Jack to the spot.

We were standing in front of a stranger’s house in an unfamiliar street, rescue box in hand. My head full of instructions to follow. “The bird would be our first test as a volunteer wildlife rescuer!” Jack said excitedly. We had completed the two-day intensive training course the previous month and learned the basic skills of rescuing animals in various situations.

But we were anxious, too. After all, it was the first time for us to rescue a bird. Would I be able to transfer the bird neatly into my rescue box? Many worries flashed in my mind. Sensing my unease about the act ahead, Jack said, “These things are pretty easy to deal with!”

I was wondering what kind of bird it was when a kind-looking man appeared and led us inside to see our very first patient. I lifted the edge of the shoe box very slightly to see an angry-looking bird standing to attention on very thin and long legs, together with a slice of banana and a small dish of water. He didn’t know its true name but the folks called the creature Red Fan. “It’s eaten some banana,” said the man proudly. The poor soul seemed rather nervous, so l decided not to grab it by hand but just transfer the whole shoe box into my rescue box.

Back home, we could only see some minor injuries in the left wing, but there was no blood on its feathers. Jack managed to treat the injuries with some iodophor (碘伏药水). We assessed its condition to find out if it was appropriate to release the bird the next day. How could we help it spend the night peacefully? We hadn’t seen this species of bird before, let alone its habits.

“Why not do a search on the Internet?” suggested Jack.

The next day, we were glad to see the bird was well enough.