Ray was there to pick me up for the three-hour drive back home. That was how I came to know his story. As the father of two, he spent six days a week driving in a town far away from home. On his only day off, he drove five hours there and back to have time with his family in Preston．

“Leaving the kids is hard,” Ray smiled gently.

I smiled, too. I remembered my dad and I eagerly talked on the phone about daily things when he worked away for weeks.

After two hours into our drive when a tall sign saying Preston came into our sight, I asked if it was where his family lived. “Yes, about 5 kilometers down the road,” Ray looked out in the right direction．

My heart hurt. Then I decided to give the family a gift, even if it just would be my time.

“Why don’t we stop and say hello?” I suggested.

I met Ray’s inquiring (询问的) eyes like I was joking.I nodded to him and said “Yes”.Then, we drove off the main road.

Soon, we came to a small house in a village．

When my parents were in trouble at Christmas, our neighbors taught me the true value of kindness. I grew up on the 50-acre farm in the small country community in Missouri, as the sixth of seven children. My parents were hard working farmers and paid regular visits to the farm growing crops. During meals they often talked about how everything on the table except the sugar and flour came from the land. Although we were not rich, they were eager to help others and would make donations to the needy every year.

Besides running the farm, Dad was also a carpenter. However, unfortunately, in the fall of 1970 as he was working on the house, the ladder broke. He fell off the ladder and his back was fractured (使断裂) in two places. He suffered from great pain. Misery and worry took over our family as well. He stayed in hospital for three weeks with his head and feet down, permitting his back to be straight again.

On Thanksgiving day, dad was still in hospital. We always butchered pigs the day after the holiday, and that year my uncle showed up with a couple of cousins to help my three elder brothers prepare our year’s supply of pork.

After Dad returned home, he was not in a good situation and unable to work. I was too young to realize our family had no money coming in and could hardly make ends meet as Christmas approached.

One night we heard a car coming up the long driveway. Growing up in the faraway farm, we kids were curious about who was visiting. As it turned out, Peggy, one of our neighbors, was at the door, holding an envelope filled with money. She told my dad she had collected money in the community and was there to deliver it.

Paragraph 1：

Dad rejected the money when Peggy handed it to him.

Paragraph 2：

At Peggy’s insistence and persuasion Dad finally accepted.

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.

Melati and Isabel deeply love their home on the island, surrounded by tropical rain forests, green fields, and a vast ocean. Enjoying a swim at their local beach was once a daily pleasure for them. But when Melati was fifteen, and Isabel just ten, the sisters started to lose their enthusiasm for swimming in the waters near their borne. More often than not, plastic bags would be around them as they swam and some were scattered on the beach. They got really upset about that.

Melati didn’t think much about it until one day her teacher gave a lesson on some world heroes. Each of those people had sparked movements of positive changes in the world. They believed in the impact they could have and they did inspire more people to do something meaningful. After school, Melati walked home slowly in silence, concerned about the vast amount of plastic rubbish on the beach. The heroes crossed her mind. If they could do it, we could do it too, she thought. The idea lit her up. She couldn’t wait to share what she thought with Isabel and quickened her pace.

“So many plastic bags around! The beach is dirty and messy! It’s so terrible! We have lost the clean and beautiful beach. Can’t we do something to get it back?” Melati said heartily. Isabel felt a bit puzzled at what to do, but she also had a strong desire to do something. Picturing a beach as fascinating as before in mind, the pair jumped with joy.

They talked a lot, anxious to know how Dad and Mom would respond to their ideas. That night when the family sat by the dinner table, the sisters eagerly got their ideas across. While Mom and Dad listened to the girls carefully, their eyes shone. “How amazing that would be! We are so proud of you!” Dad exclaimed. Mom came up, gave them a thumb up and hugged the sisters.

Melati and Isabel decided to make a positive impact straight away.

One month later, Melati received a call from the local newspaper.

I was moving fast, stepping cautiously from rock to rock. Far ahead, I could see the back of my brother’s sandy hair and the bright orange of his shorts.

“Too slow!” I heard Sam yell.

I’ll show him and attempted a double jump. What a mistake! My left foot came down hard between the edges of two gray rocks. “Ouch!” I shouted.

I tried to pull my foot out, but my shoe was stuck. I bent closer to the rock, and that’s when I saw it: a shiny, square shaped stone the color of water, attached to a shining gold chain. It was just lying there on the wet sand, and a few seconds later it was in my pocket.

“Why do you look odd?” my brother asked once I’d freed my foot and caught up to him. We were walking back to Uncle Coop’s house, where we spend a couple of weeks every summer.

I kept turning the treasure around in my pocket, pushing each corner of the square stone into my finger. I was excited, but I didn’t want Sam to notice. He liked to tell everybody my business.

We walked along the main street, the small buildings giving us a break from the sun. Through the window of the candy shop I could see tubes of colorful jelly beans. A sign on the window’s glass read LOST: Gold and blue necklace. Very very very special. If found, call Chrissy at 555-9924.

Chrissy had drawn a crayon version of the necklace at the bottom of the poster. The necklace looked different from the one in my pocket, I decided. Rounder, bluer. The poster appeared old and weathered. It must have been put up months ago. We continued to walk. Someone must have returned that necklace by now, I thought.

Once home, I placed the necklace into my box. I’d cleaned it out and made it my special spot for special things. So far, it held twin tiny seashells, a pebble that looked exactly like a robin’s egg, and 11 half-burnt birthday candles.

I stared at the necklace, deep in thought.

Fifteen minutes later, I was sitting in a coffee shop with Chrissy.