On Saturday, we gathered at the hall to witness the award ceremony for the senior scouts (童子军). Receiving an award on such a day was a great honor for any scout, and all desired to be the scout selected to give the summary of the year’s activities for the association.

I was not the one selected to give the summary and for that, I was grateful. I could hardly stand in front of a large crowd to make a speech, but Sean could. He was selected to do the honor because he was the President of the Boy Scouts for schools. My job was much simpler. Being the Vice-President, I was very much behind the scenes, content to ensure that everything was in smooth running order.

It was an hour to go before the ceremony began, and I had put the finishing touches to the stage. Walking down the stage, I saw my teammates in a state of panic. When they saw me, they ran to me to tell me that Sean met with a traffic accident and would not make it to the award ceremony. Someone else had to give the summary. All of them looked hopefully at me, and I could feel my knees beginning to collapse.

All their arguments against my unwillingness were valid. I had a copy of the speech as well as the benefit of having seen Sean rehearse (排练) it. I was the Vice-President and therefore should take his place. Finally, I was firmly told not to decline any longer and they said that they were convinced that I would do the right thing. I sank down onto the floor, totally shocked by the situation.

I knew I was not a confident speaker, and the thought of presenting a summary in front of so many distinguished guests horrified me. To think that the fame of the scouts would take a beating because of me! The burden of responsibility troubled me greatly.

But there was really no way out of the situation.

As I stood on the stage, my heart beat violently.

I was invited to a cookout on an old friend’s farm in western Washington. I parked my car outside the farm and walked past a milking house which had apparently not been used in many years. A noise at a window caught my attention, so I entered it. It was a hummingbird (蜂鸟), desperately trying to escape. She was covered in spider-webs (蛛网) and was barely able to move her wings. She ceased her struggle the instant I picked her up.

With the bird in my cupped hand, I looked around to see how she had gotten in. The broken window glass was the likely answer. I stuffed a piece of cloth into the hole and took her outside, closing the door securely behind me.

When I opened my hand, the bird did not fly away; she sat looking at me with her bright eyes. I removed the sticky spider-webs that covered her head and wings. Still, she made no attempt to fly. Perhaps she had been struggling against the window too long and was too tired? Or too thirsty?

As I carried her up the blackberry-lined path toward my car where I kept a water bottle, she began to move. I stopped, and she soon took wing but did not immediately fly away.

Hovering (悬停), she approached within six inches of my face. For a very long moment, this tiny creature looked into my eyes, turning her head from side to side. Then she flew quickly out of sight.

During the cookout, I told my hosts about the hummingbird incident. They promised to fix the window. As I was departing, my friends walked me to my car. I was standing by the car when a hummingbird flew to the center of our group and began hovering. She turned from person to person until she came to me. She again looked directly into my eyes, then let out a squeaking call and was gone. For a moment, all were speechless. Then someone said, “She must have come to say goodbye.”

A few weeks later, I went to the farm again.

I was just about to leave when the hummingbird appeared.

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.

The Perfect Christmas Tree

In our house in Middle Cove, Newfoundland, the tradition was to find the perfect tree before Christmas Eve. And this year, my brother Gilbert and I were being trusted to do it entirely on our own. And we took the challenge very seriously. So, axe in Gilbert’s hand, saw in mine, we set out for all the spots we imagined we might find a magnificent fir (冷杉树).

We were young, but we knew the rules. Trees could not be taken from personal land and not near any road.

We started out with the best of intentions. We were on Pine River Lane, and looking at the firs in the fields, but none of them looked quite good enough. It was getting dark but we still had no luck. On the way home, it was Gilbert who stopped, grabbed my arm and said, “I see it!”

“You see what?” I said.

“Right there, look. It’s perfect.”

And he was right. It was a young tree, two metres tall, standing alone. It was the classic Christmas tree. In all my years, I had never seen such a perfect one.

Perfect except for one small problem. The tree was pretty close to the road. Also, it was behind a fence, so the tree was in someone’s yard. And not just any someone. It was in the yard of Timmy Green, my best friend.

“You stand guard,” Gilbert said. And with that, we were over the fence and on our bellies crawling toward the target. I lay in the snow and put the Greens’ house under surveillance (监视). I was to whistle or cough if I saw anyone coming.

Within a few minutes, it fell.

“Grab the end,” Gilbert said, and we lifted it over the fence. Now we were on the road.

Suddenly Gilbert’s eyes widened. “Our footprints!” he said.

So it shocked me when I found Mr. Green in our house with my parents, drinking tea on Christmas Eve.

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.