I sat in the breakfast corner with my four-year-old son, Matthew, trying to ignore the ache in my stomach. I was still recovering from a surgery. I hoped for strength and happiness. But the future seemed so hopeless.

Matthew jumped up from his spot on the kitchen floor. “Bird!” he shouted, rushing to the sliding door. Sure enough, there was a white dove seated on a rubber tree. It sat there a few moments, and then flew away. I’d never seen one in our neighborhood before.

When I dragged myself to the kitchen the next morning, the dove was back. This time it was with a mate carrying twigs (嫩枝), “Look, Matthew,” I said, pointing to the tree. “They’re going to make a nest.” The doves flew in and out of the courtyard all week, building on the top of the rubber tree. Matthew could hardly contain his excitement. Every morning, he’d run into the kitchen and take his spot by the sliding glass door, talking to the birds while they worked. As much as I was grieving (感到悲伤), I couldn’t help but look forward to the doves’ visits too. We watched their progress as if it were a real-life soap opera unfolding before us. Gradually, my pain disappeared, replaced by joy.

Then it all went wrong. The courtyard was a safe enough spot for a nest, but the rubber tree’s broad, thin leaves were far from stable. One night, a strong wind blew through, throwing the doves’ nest to the ground. I heard the twigs break apart. Nothing good ever lasts. I wouldn’t blame the doves if they never came back. But they returned. And they paid no attention to the pi le of sticks that had once been their nest. They started again from scratch, though the wind destroyed all their hard work. The next day, and the next, they renewed their efforts, as if nothing had happened.

Paragraph 1: I knew I had to do something for the poor creatures.

Paragraph 2:“The birds were back!” Matthew announced.

The skies were dark. A strong wind was blowing hard, cutting my face like a sharp knife. Rain fell in big drops and thunder and lightning flashed across the skies. I shook with cold and fear as I walked through the streams of muddy water. Some people were rushing by, completely wet in the heavy rain.

Along the way, I saw some schoolchildren holding their heavy schoolbags tightly and rushing home. I also saw that some road repair work had been abandoned(遗弃) by workers. Obviously the workers had left in a hurry because of the storm. There were few signs and it was hard to see what was on the road. There were pieces of wood and metal and it looked like a hole had been dug and hastily covered with planks(木板).

I moved on but suddenly stopped as I heard some sounds. It sounded like children crying. I quickly turned back and went back to the place from where the sounds came. I was terrified! To my sadness, I found that two small children had fallen into the gaping(裂开的) hole on the road. The planks had moved away with the force of the rushing water. I could barely see the children as it was dark all around me. I told them that I was going to get help and ran. I was not sure of what to do or where to go but decided to go to the nearest house for help. I knew the man well, Mr Lee, who lived there and got along well with his neighbors.

I called Mr Lee and told him about the problem.

The children’s parents were shocked to hear of what had happened.

Jenny was the only child in her family. She had a quarrel (吵架) with her mother that afternoon and she ran out of the house angrily. She couldn’t help weeping sorrowfully when she thought of the scolding from her mother. Having wandered aimlessly in the street for hours, she felt a little hungry and wished for something to eat. She stood beside a stand (货摊) for a while, watching the middle-aged seller busy doing his business. However, with no money in hand, she gave a sigh and had to leave.

The seller behind the stand noticed the young girl and asked, “Hey, girl, you want to have the noodles?”

“Oh, yes, but I don’t have money on me.” she replied.

“That’s nothing. I’ll treat you today,” said the man, “Come in.”

The seller brought her a bowl of noodles, whose smell was so attractive. As she was eating, Jenny cried silently.

“What is it?” asked the man kindly.

“Nothing. Actually, I was just touched by your kindness!” said Jenny as she wiped her tears. “Even a stranger on the street will give me a bowl of noodles, while my mother drove me out of the house. She showed no care for me. She is so merciless compared to a stranger!”

Hearing the words, the seller smiled, “Girl, do you really think so? I only gave you a bowl of noodles and you thanked me a lot. But it is your mother who has raised you since you were a baby. Can you remember the times she cooked for you? Have you expressed your gratitude to her?”

Jenny sat there, speechless and numb with shock: she remembered her mother’s familiar face and weathered hands. “Why didn’t I think of that? A bowl of noodles from a stranger made me feel grateful. Why haven’t I thanked my mum for what she has done for me?”

On the way home. Jenny made up her mind to make an apology to her mother for her rudeness as soon as she arrived home.

Nearing the doorway, Jenny took a deep breath.

At that time, her mother came back and touched her hair gently, which called her mind back.

Opening presents carefully selected by our parents is our family tradition on Christmas morning, which always pushes the festive atmosphere to the climax. However, this year’s Christmas seemed not as happy as usual.

It was Christmas Eve when my sister and I decided to open our presents before our mom got home from work. Though worried about ruining my mom’s original plan, we still wanted to sneak a peek (偷看) at the gifts in advance, driven by a strong impulse of curiosity. Since my sister was older, and that put her in charge, she opened the first gift while I was ordered to stand guard at the big picture window in our front room. I was to report any suspicious activity or person, namely our mother, who can easily capture the details of life.

I was so excited that I could barely stand still. I also couldn’t keep my eyes on the window very long. My head moved from the window to my sister and back to the window again. I felt like I was watching a Ping-Pong match.

“All right!” my sister shouted. She pulled out a jewelry box. “You know what that means, don’t you?”

I jumped up and down. “Yeah, it’s my turn!”

“No,” she said. “It means that there must be some jewelry under here.” I watched my sister rummaging (翻寻) through the presents under the tree, trying to find one she thought was small enough to be a necklace or earrings.

“Hey, that’s not fair!” I complained, stomping my foot.

“Are you watching for Mom?” is all that she said. I couldn’t do anything except stand guard as she opened present after present. Finally, when my sister’s curiosity was satisfied and she had finished wrapping her last present back up, we traded places.

My heart hammered so hard that it felt like my chest was moving in and out. My sister reminded me to be careful so I wouldn’t tear the paper, and to wrap the present back up the same way that I had found it.

After unwrapping a few presents, I found it faster to open one end of a present and peek inside. “Headphones! How can my mom know what I want! Without any hesitation, I pulled the headphones out of the box.

I was about to put them on when my sister shouted, “Quick! Mom’s coming!”

Christmas morning finally approached, and we were ready to open our presents again!_

One day, when I was 7 years old, my father was standing in line to buy tickets for the circus for me.

Their clothes were not expensive, but they were clean. The children were well-behaved, all of them standing in line, two-by-two behind their parents, holding hands. They were excitedly talking about the clowns, elephants, and other acts they would see that night with their brothers or sisters in a low voice.

I could sense that they had never been to the circus before. It promised to be highlight of their young lives. The father and mother were at the head of the pack, standing proud as could be. The mother was holding her husband’s hand, looking up at him as if to say, “You are my hero.”

He was smiling and responding in pride, looking back at her as if to say, “You got that right.”

The ticket lady asked the father how many tickets he wanted. He proudly responded, “Please let me buy eight children’s tickets and two adult tickets so I can take my family to the circus.”

The ticket lady gave the price. The man’s wife let go of his hand, her head dropped, and his lips began to shake. The father leaned a little closer and asked, “How much did you say?”

The ticket lady again quoted the price. The man didn’t have enough money.

How was he supposed to turn and tell his eight children that he didn’t have enough money to take them to the circus?

Actually, we were not wealthy in any sense. So, I understand how the kids would feel. I felt sorry for them.

Seeing what was going on, my dad put his hand in his pocket, pulled out a $20 bill and dropped it on the ground.

Holidays are not necessarily for fun or rest. Doing something meaningful can also gain special pleasure. When the final bell rang, the students were reminded that there was no school on Monday—the Labor Day. “Enjoy your extra day off” said the teacher to her class.

An extra day off unsuited Kayla just fine. She loved breaks. She wanted to go out to play with her friends. When the school bus dropped Kayla off, she ran into the house happily.

“How was school, Kayla?” asked her mom.

“It was great, Mom. I am excited about no school on Monday.”

“You just started back to school two weeks ago. Already in need of a break, huh?” asked Kayla’s mom with a laugh.

Kayla slept in the next morning. Saturday was her favorite day of the week. I trained most of the day, so Kayla enjoyed playing videogames inside. On Sunday, her friends came over and they played basketball for several hours.

Then it was Labor Day, you know, the extra day off that Kayla was so looking forward to. But Kayla was awakened early that morning by her dad. He told Kayla that in honor of Labor Day, the family would be cleaning both inside and outside the house. Kayla couldn’t believe it. This was a holiday. A day when she was supposed to be enjoying freshly squeezed lemonade while playing in her tree house. As Kayla wiped here yes, she began to wonder if this was just a bad dream.

“Kayla, your breakfast is ready. We have a lot of work to do today. Let’s get a move on,” said Kayla’s mom. As she sat down at the kitchen table, Kayla asked her parents，

“Are you serious about working today? Isn’t Labor Day a holiday?”

“Yes, Kayla. It is,” replied her dad. “But your mom and I thought working hard today would make you appreciate why Labor Day was observed in the first place.”

At first Kayla felt disappointed at her parents’ plan for the holiday.

But things began to change as she was doing the chores.