Once, when I was a teenager, my father and I were standing in line to buy tickets for the circus. Finally, there was only one family between us and the ticket counter.

This family made a big impression on me. There were eight children, all probably under the age of twelve. You could tell they didn’t have a lot of money.

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.

One could sense 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 knight in shining armor.”

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 around 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 understood 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.

That day I went back home with my father without any tickets, except a valuable lesson.

I grew up in a small town where elementary school was a ten-minute walk from my house and in an age, not so long ago, when we children could go home for lunch and find our mothers waiting.

Our lunchtime when I was in the third grade will stay with me always. I had been picked to be the princess in the school play, and for weeks my mother had painstakingly practiced my lines（台词）with me. But no matter how easily I delivered them at home, as soon as I stepped on stage, every word disappeared from my head. Finally, my teacher took me aside. She explained patiently that she needed a narrator (叙述者，旁白员) and had written a narrator’s part to the play, and asked me to play the role of the narrator. Her words, kindly delivered, still hurt me especially when I saw my part go to another girl.

I didn’t tell mother what had happened when I went home for lunch that day. But she sensed my upset, and instead of suggesting we practice my lines, she asked if I wanted to walk in the yard. It was a lovely spring day and the rose vine（ 藤 ）was turning green. Under the huge trees, we could see yellow dandelions（ 蒲 公 英 ） appearing unexpectedly through the grass in bunches (簇，串）, as if a painter had touched our landscape with small amounts of gold. I watched my mother casually bend down by one of the bushes. “I think I’m going to dig up all these weeds,” she said, pulling a blossom up by all its roots. “From now on, we’ll only have roses in this garden.” I immediately argued, “But I like dandelions. All flowers are beautiful — even dandelions.”

“Do you mean that every flower has its own beauty?”asked my mother thoughtfully.

Having learned what had happened, Mom patted me on the back gently and said,“But you will be a beautiful narrator.”

When my daughters reached the third and fourth grades, I occasionally allowed them to walk to and from school alone if the weather permitted. One warm spring day, a little dog followed them home after school. It had short legs and long lovely ears, with a brown-colored coat. It was the cutest dog I had ever seen and the girls begged me to keep it.

The dog was barely twelve weeks old. It had no identification marks. I didn’t know what to do. I thought about running an advertisement but I really didn’t want to. It would break the kids’ hearts if someone should show up. Besides, its owners should have watched it more closely.

By the end of the week the dog was part of our family. It was very good with the girls. The following week something told me to check the lost-and-found part in the local newspaper. One particular advertisement jumped out at me and my heart beat with fear for what I read. Someone was begging for the return of a lost dog in the neighborhood. They sounded anxious. My hands shook.

Instead, I pretended I hadn’t seen the advertisement. I quickly put paper away in the drawer. I never said a word about it to the kids or my husband.

By now we had named the dog Molly. It followed the girls everywhere they went. But there was one problem bothering me: my conscience (良心). I knew in my heart I had to call that number in the paper and see if our Molly was the dog they were eagerly looking for. It was the most difficult thing I’ve ever done.

With mixed feelings, I finally picked up the phone.

I asked the woman to come in and she quickly hugged Molly tightly.

Grady and his family go camping every summer. As it was becoming hotter, here came the camping time.

Having planned the camp long, the family finally decided the destination --- the Great National Forest. With food, necessity and cookers loaded onto the car, the family squeezed into the car. The car door closed, heat was shut outside.

In the car, Jared, Grady's younger brother was playing with a toy dinosaur, making great noise. Grady's mother talked excitedly with his father. On settling in the car, Grady put on the earphone and turned on the music. He neither wanted to join his brother nor joined any talk. After what seemed to be hours, the car stopped where they headed. Grady threw down his backpack and slammed the car door.

“This will be a lengthy week,“ he said unhappily to no one in particular. He looked around the campground. Hundreds of tall and green fir trees, some as tall as church towers, covered the mountainside like a green carpet. The sun would be setting soon. Grady thought maybe the heat wouldn't be unbearable. But actually now in the mountain, the hot stickiness of July was closely attached to him.

Grady hated camping, but it was something his family stuck to every summer. His father liked cooking over an open air, telling stories about how to survive things like bear attacks and bites of bees. His mother and Jared liked to hike and take pictures of animals. Jared had a collection of bug pictures that he had pinned to the walls in his half of their room. Grady thought they were just scary and proof that Jared was a strange kid.

They set up camp - two tents, one for his parents and one for himself and Jared. While everyone else started preparing dinner, Grady, looking for some place to cool down, set off for the nearby stream, which was deep enough to swim in.

I was packed and ready to go skiing for the first time. It felt like I was about to take an adventure with the world at my feet. Feeling empowered, I knew something brilliant was going to come out of the trip. I was more than excited at the thought of spending an entire week with my best friend, Lindsay, hanging out and enjoying winter.

Early Monday morning my youth group boarded our bus for the ski trip. Once at the destination, we saw the skiers floating so easily and gracefully down the slopes. By the time I got my skis and boots, I was confident I’d be a fantastic skier. During the lessons, I mastered the art of skiing within 30 minutes. After spending most of the time practicing again and again on the run for beginners, we were able to fly down the hill by the end of the day. In the evening, we all felt extremely tired. Complaining about the pain our ski boots had caused, Lindsay and I decided we weren’t skiing the next day. Well, of course, our friends wouldn’t hear of that.

So, the next morning we found ourselves in line for the ski lift, which wound its way up the high mountain. Lindsay and I stared helplessly at each other, our eyes showing nothing but fear. After I got into the lift, I sat totally still on the chair with my eyes closely shut, not daring to look outside. The lift rose so fast that before I knew it, I had floated up the mountain. When I finally opened my eyes, I found myself at the top in one piece. Thank goodness I was still alive!

Standing at the top of the long slope, with the skis pointing downward, I realized I was shaking. I glanced at Lindsay and found that she was scared too, for her poles kept tapping rapidly against the sides of her boots.

Taking a deep breath and gathering all our courage, we gave each other an encouraging nod and both took off. At first I barely moved, but slowly I allowed myself to gain some speed. Soon I was shooting down the mountain with my heart beating wildly.

Then a sharp turning suddenly came into view.

I was on the point of crying when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

One morning in December, Tom Carr was playing with his friend Dot as usual in the yard. Tom was nine years old, and Dot was seven. Tom took very great care of his friend.

Then a man who Tom knew rode into the yard in panic. It was Mr. May, who lived at the next station, where there is a big farm. “Fire！”he cried to Tom's father, Mr. Carr. “Fire！One of the worst fire I've ever seen in my life. Come along, Carr. ”

Mr. Carr called his men out. In an hour or so Mrs. May and her baby drove up. Tom and Dot ran to meet them. “Thank you, dear, ”she said. “The smoke is so bad at home that I was afraid it would choke(呛)the baby. ”

She went to the house, and Tom and Dot were following her, when Tom stopped. “Look there, Dot. ”he said. “The brown calf(小牛)has gotten out of the yard！”The men were in such a hurry to fight the fire that they forgot to close the gate, and the brown calf was running away. Tom ran at once to bring the calf back, and Dot ran after him.

About half a mile from the farm yard the open land came to an end, and the bush began. The calf ran into the trees, and the children followed. The trees were not thick at first, and it was very easy to follow the brown calf through the bushes. But the calf ran into a deep valley, where Tom could not follow it. “Oh, what a pity, Dot, ”he said. “The calf is lost now. It will disappear into the bush. But give me your hand. We must go home！”

Tom now tried to find his way home. He felt sure he could easily get home, for they had only gone a little way into the bush. They walked on and on, and Dot got very tired. Tom took his friend or his back, and carried him for a long way. “Oh, how thick the smoke is！”said Dot, There had been smoke in the air all day, but now it was very thick. The fire had to be getting closer.

Tom began to feel very scared

When Mr. Carr came back to the yard, he was told that the two kids got lost.

New Year was just around the corner. I was second grade then, 7 years old. One day, on my way home from school, a lady gave me a piece of paper saying that the neighborhood was asking people to give New Year presents to those who needed them. When I got home, I showed my mother the paper and said that I wanted to take part in this plan. My mother thought this was a very good idea and encouraged me to spread kindness to others less fortunate than us. She said we would become “Neighborhood Angels (天使)”.

Several days later, my mother said, “Get ready, and we will go.” “Where are we going?” I asked my mother. “I will drive you to Boots Department Store to buy something you think would be suitable for a neighborhood present.”, she replied. As we went into the store, my mother gave me £20 to pay for the present. Then she said, “I’ll see you outside in the car.” She left me alone to do the shopping. I was not used to buying things on my own, as I had always been   with one of my parents before. Everything seemed very strange and confusing to me, but I carried on. I asked myself what I should buy and for whom. An idea quickly occurred to me. There was a poor boy called Ralph who lived in our neighborhood. I used to see him often without a jacket during the freezing winter months, so I decided, then and there, to buy him a warm jacket.I looked at many jackets and eventually chose a heavy blue one. The price was just within my spending limit. The assistant at the checkout asked, “Is this for someone?”, as I paid for the jacket happily. I said it was, and she wished me a Happy New Year. I felt as if I were a real“Neighborhood Angel”.

That evening, my mother helped me pack the jacket in beautiful paper. ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

My mother and I waited breathlessly for Ralph’s front door to open and finally it opened. ______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________