Alexander sang all the time. He simply liked singing and practiced it all the time. He sang in the shower, and he sang while he walked to school. Personally, Alexander believed his voice was imperfect. “There will be tryouts for bays’ choir this weekend in our school.” he heard Kevin announcing in class.

Everyone around school knew Kevin had a fantastic sing voice. More importantly, warm-hearted and helpful, Kevin was always generous to give someone a hand.

With the tryouts in mind and an initial surge of interest, he kept imagining himself as a member of the boys’ choir, his heart thudding (砰砰直跳). However, he would explode with anxiety when he thought of singing with others. After school, walking slowly, he debated (反复思考) whether to attend it, for fear of being a drag (拖累) on others. “It would be nice if I could solo(独唱) he thought to himself. Just then, out of the rom walked Cevin, whose eyes brimmed with smile. Kevin patted his shoulder and whispered,” Let’s sign up together. “Inspired, Alexander signed his name.”

The next morning, Alexander came to the tryouts. Taking a deep breath, he walked into the building, and then noticed the other boys who were all practicing delightfully. Alexander was seated on the chair alone, looking at other competitors nervously and not knowing how to join them.

Later, the choir director walked in and declared: “The whole selection process includes the individual performance and the group singing” Immediately things started. When Alexander’s turn came, his voice filled the room, loud and clear. He felt satisfied when he was done. After a short pleasure, however, the fear of singing with others flickered across his mind, casting him a surge of gloom.

Then came the group singing.

When a tornado hit the small town of Otwell, Indiana, many families found themselves completely ruined. Afterwards all the local newspapers carried a lot of human-interest (有人情味的) stories featuring some of the families who suffered the most.

One Saturday, a specific picture deeply touched me. A young woman stood in front of a completely destroyed mobile home, her face overshadowed by a cloud of sadness. Beside her, a young boy, aged six or seven, stood with eyes downward. Clinging to (紧紧抓住) her skirt was a tiny girl who gazed into the camera, her eyes reflecting a mixture of confusion and fear.

The article that went with the picture gave the clothing sizes of each family member. With growing interest, I noticed that their sizes closely matched ours. This would be a golden opportunity to teach my children to help those less lucky than themselves. I stuck the picture of the young family on our refrigerator, explaining their difficulty to my eight-year-old Brad and also to my three-year-old Meghan.

“These poor people have lost everything,” I shared. “Let’s extend a helping hand.” Then, I brought three large boxes down from the room upstairs and placed them in the living room. Meghan observed (观察) the process seriously, as Brad and I filled one of the boxes with canned goods and foods.

While I sorted through our clothes, I encouraged Brad to go through his toys and donate some of his less favorite stuffs. Meghan watched quietly as her brother piled up his less cherished old toys and games.

To my surprise, Meghan walked up with her favorite Barbie doll tightly hugged. She came to the box that held the toys, pressed her round little face into Barbie’s pretty little face, gave her a final kiss, and then laid her gently on top of the other toys.

“Oh, Honey,” I sighed. “You don’t have to give away Barbie. She means so much to you.”

Meghan nodded seriously, tears held back in her eyes. “Barbie makes me happy, Mommy. Maybe she’ll make that other little girl happy, too.”

Brad had watched, open-mouthed, as his baby sister placed her favorite Barbie doll in the box.

I didn’t know the lady, but I saw her often around town with her two small children. She appeared to be shy, always looking down, trying not to make eye contact. She often wore the same clothes, and so did her children. I felt her discomfort when I saw her at the supermarket checkout. She reminded me of myself years ago. We had to go through a tough time.

Back then, I couldn’t afford a new winter coat for my daughter, and I didn’t know what I was going to do. Luckily, my three younger children could wear hand-me-downs. One night, I said to myself in my heart that I wished someone to offer me help. I did it for the first time since my husband’s unemployment.

The next morning, a neighbour came into the place where I worked. “I know you must feel unbelievable, This morning, I had an overwhelming(无法抗拒的)feeling that you needed this,” she whispered. She insisted on giving me twenty dollars. My eyes started to tear as she continued, “I also have a box of clothes in my car that I was going to donate. Please take what you need. “It was really a shock of getting her help. Was this the response to my word the night before?

Going through the large box of clothes, I found several winter items for my children, including a dark purple jacket that looked like it would fit my daughter. Although grateful, I felt embarrassed. The woman must have sensed my discomfort. She raised my chin so I could look at her. “We all need help at one time or another,” she said. “One day, you’ll be the one helping someone in need.”

I thanked her and promised I would always try to pay it forward.

Looking at the lady at the supermarket checkout, I knew perhaps it was the proper time.

Jose was a devoted teacher for a local high school in California. Unfortunately, with the money he carned, he couldn’t support his family and extended family in Mexico and rent an apartment in California at the same time. Therefore, having failed to afford the rental of even a shoe-box apartment, he had no choice but to live in his old car occasionally to make ends meet until he could find another place to live.

To make matters worse, he found himself living this unfortunate lifestyle after the pandemic swept the world when California schools closed their doors following the outbreak. This left Jose with little means for making money. So at age 77, Jose ended up living inside of his car. For about two years he was homeless. Home was his car, and his car sat in a grocery store parking lot. During daytime he drove to different locations, looking for job opportunities while he spent most of his nights at the same parking lot, which gave him a sense of belonging.

At daytime, he would lean his seat all the way back, so no one would see him because he knew he wasn’t supposed to be there and worried that the manager of the grocery store would drive him away. He was a man of self-respect and didn’t want to turn to charity.

When Maggie, the manager of the grocery store, did see Jose, she felt he looked familiar because she used to be in his class many years ago. She could still remember how Jose encouraged her to finish her education when she was struggling with her learning. She noticed Jose spent a considerable amount of time in his car, she suspected her teacher had fallen on hard times. She became determined to help her former teacher in his time of need. So, the former student decided to repay the favor and help her homeless teacher.

One morning, Maggie knocked at the window of the car. Jose rolled down the window and apologized to the lady standing by his car. He said he would drive away soon to make room for other customers. Tears in eyes, Maggie asked him whether he still remembered her. Jose was puzzled at first but soon recognized her. Embarrassed, he told Maggie about his situation. Maggie took out an envelope which contained $ 500. Hardly had Maggie uttered a word and handed it the envelope to Jose when the teacher rolled up the car window.

Seeing Jose refused the money, Maggie wanted to help him without hurting his feelings.

A Cross-Country Running Race

I was lacking in everything needed to start a new friendship.

My parents moved to the town when they decided to look for new jobs but they didn’t realize I was really hurt when I said goodbye to my old friends. It felt awful to be a new student in the school and when my classmates were chatting, what I could do was to be caught up in my thoughts watching the clouds outside the window. I was not good at math or history; nor was I good at drawing or dancing. I was shy and timid (胆小的). I had a few friends back at my hometown and it seemed that they were the only ones who I could be friends with for my whole life. I felt I had achieved a point of saturation (饱和) with regard to having friends and I could make no further addition to my friends list. I was ashamed of myself, so I believed I deserved (应受) no notice from others until Emily came to my world.

Emily was fearless, outspoken and easy to go. She was everything I was not and I was too shy to come out of my shell. I met Emily in school almost every day and ye I never talked to her. We were in the same class but we were like poles apart. How I wished I could be like her or at least be a friend of hers!

It was another ordinary day. I was on the school bus back home, when I got up to get down the bus, my schoolbag was stuck in the armrest (扶手). I didn’t notice it and stood up with all my strength. Unfortunately, my schoolbag was torn apart and all the contents fell on the ground. I knelt down to pick them up. Suddenly, I saw a hand passing me some of the books.

I looked up and found it was Emily who was helping me.

All I did was show my little sister how to grow plants. Dig a hole. Put in a seed. Cover it with dirt. Water it. Wait. “See, Laynie,” I explained, “a whole plant will grow from this tiny seed. All we have to do is water it.”

Laynie had her own watering can so she could “help” me in the garden. One day, after everything was watered, she said, “We forgot something, Brad.” She ran to the fence and started sprinkling water on another spot. I walked over and saw a fresh patch of dirt near the fence.

“Did you plant something there?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said. “I’m growing a pencil.”

She stopped sprinkling. “My purple pencil got too small, so I planted it, the way you said."

“But, Laynie—”

“How long does it take to grow a new pencil?”

I should have explained things right then, but I just muttered, “Uh... I never grew one before.”

Later I got what seemed like a great idea. I dug up Laynie’s pencil and “planted” a brand-new purple pencil. I fixed it with the erase r sticking up.

Laynie was really excited when she saw it. “My pencil grew!” she shouted. She drew pictures with it all afternoon.

A few days later, Laynie was watering the same spot. “How long does it take to grow crayons?” she asked. “I can’t wait!” she squealed, giggling... She squatted down and whispered, “Grow. Come on, grow.”

Two days later, new crayons sprouted their point y little heads, thanks to me. Laynie jumped up and down and yelled, “They look like flowers!” She “picked” them and ran into the house. Grandma thought Laynie was cute when she claimed that she had grown these things. I just kept my mouth shut! Actually, it was fun trying to think of what should grow from Laynie’s “seeds.” And it was cool to see her get excited.

One day I saw her patting down some dirt, so I knew she’d just planted something. “What is it this time?” I asked.

“It’s Molly.” I gasped. Molly was Laynie’s goldfish! “She jumped out of her bowl again,” Laynie said. “Grandma said we didn’t find her in time.” Then Laynie picked up her little watering can and started sprinkling that spot. My heart dropped to my feet when she asked, “How long does it take to grow a goldfish, Brad?” She knelt down to whisper “Grow, Molly. Grow!” before she skipped back to the house.

I sat down with my back to the fence and wondered what I should do then.

I hugged her tightly and suggested, “How about a funeral   for Molly?”