I didn’t like Del so much. He always called me the nickname “Germy”, which meant “dirty”, instead of my real name “Jamie”. Besides, he was known as a trouble-maker in school. So when the head teacher Mr. Smith asked Del to come to his office, I naturally thought that Del had done something mean to someone. Through the window, I caught sight of a smaller boy crying. Del seemed unhappy, too.

He did not return to class that day. All of us were discussing what had happened to him. What else could such an annoying boy do? “He must have hit the boy and was sent home,” I whispered to my friends. Their eyes widened. It felt good to see them so interested in what I said.

The next morning, the whole school was talking about Del being expelled(开除) for beating up a kid. I was surprised that my assumptions were passed on so quickly. So when Del walked into the classroom, all the kids were shocked. The kids next to him shift ed their desks away. “What’s your problem?” Del asked. “I don’t want you to attack me,” one kid said. Some laughed. “Yeah, I might,” said Del. I could tell he was joking, but many kids thought he admitted he did beat up someone.

During recess(课间休息), Del tried to join the kickball game. “Neither team wants you,” one of the players said. “Why?” Del asked, looking confused. “I always play with you guys.” They ignored him and went on playing. Del sat by himself while the rest of the school enjoyed their recess away from him. Del looked lonely and sad, much different from before. I started to feel sorry for him.

Later that day, I learned what really happened. The kid was Del’s little brother and he was crying because their mother fell ill and was sent to hospital. I felt even sorrier for what I said before. I started a rumor(谣言).

At recess the next day, I saw Del sitting alone watching the kickball game.

Due to my unhealthy eating habits, I became fatter and fatter after college. My good friend Anoush was a running enthusiast. So he advised me to lose weight by running. I didn’t agree at first until he promised to accompany me to run although he was busy with his work.

Seven years later, I got more serious about running. And I dreamed to participate in Boston Marathon. Anoush encouraged me to realize my dream. He also said he enjoyed running too and wanted to attend the same marathon with me. Every day we spared our time to practise hard and did about 2 marathons a year, during which time Anoush gave me much professional guidance and encouragement. And then one day, both of us qualified for the 2017 Boston Marathon. We were excited but unfortunately, several weeks before the marathon, we had a serious quarrel. Even I swore never to talk with him in the future.

The day came. Anoush and I stood at the starting line. He said, “Good luck! You will certainly finish the marathon.” Hearing his words, I looked at him, saying, “It’s none of your business.”

Then we started running. I had strong mental confidence by using positive self-talk when running distances, which has helped me finish 18 marathons. Soon, I passed Anoush.

But I struggled in the heat starting at mile 16. I felt most of my oxygen went to the muscle in my legs and less in my brain, which made me feel a bit lightheaded and fuzzy (迷迷糊糊的). I continually encouraged myself. “Just get to the finish, run bold, and you will win,” all phrases that I say to myself didn’t work any more.

Gradually I felt out of breath and had to slow down my pace. As I ran down the famous last stretch of the Boston Marathon on Boylston Street, I fell down on the ground with my legs moving like jello (果冻).

Just then, I felt that someone picked me up.

When Anoush and I crossed the finish line, the audience at present applauded.

When John was in Grade 9, his class went on a canoeing (划独木舟) trip. Canoeing is a water sport practiced in a light narrow boat with a paddle. It can be very dangerous, especially if the river has rapids, a fast-flowing part of a river. Since it requires strength, balance and a lot of skills, all the students are trained hard.

To qualify for the trip, the whole class had to be able to swim. However, John had a problem. He weighed over 180 pounds. He had never learned to swim before, so he took swimming lessons and worked hard for many weeks. He eventually graduated with a certificate saying that he could swim.

John’s classmates were all glad to have him along—all except one person, Nicky. She didn’t like him. In fact, she seemed not to like many. She was on the school water polo team. She was a swimming star and extremely proud of herself too.

The trip went well and everyone enjoyed the day. That is, until the end of the trip when they were heading down some rapids. Nicky had been warned over and over to wear her life jacket, but she did not listen to others.

When they arrived at a steep valley, the speed of the water picked up. They entered some dangerous rapids. All of a sudden, their canoes turned over. They were all thrown into the water—all except John! He was heavy enough and somehow was not thrown into the water.

They all swam back to the canoe where John quickly pulled them in. Then, they saw Nicky’s life jacket floating on the water. She was not wearing it when the accident happened. When they spotted her floating on the water, she was barely conscious. She was in serious danger. It seemed like she had hit her head on a rock. As they were approaching her, their canoes broke loose from the tree branches they were stuck to and sent them farther away from Nicky. Everyone in the canoes looked in horror as the current dragged Nicky away from them.

By the time 18-year-old Amy Waldroop returned to her grandmother’s tiny house, it was nearly midnight and she was exhausted. After a full day’s work at a flower shop, she had put in another six hours waiting tables before heading home. This was her typical weekends.

Pushing the key into the lock, she quietly opened the door so as not to wake her younger siblings. She stepped into the front room, and froze. The house was a mess: plates of half-eaten food were scattered in front of the TV; clothes, shoes and exercise books were everyone.

Amy’s eyes welled with tears. “This is just too much for me.” she thought. Terrible memories began to race through her mind. Two years before, her parents lost their lives in an accident, leaving Amy and her siblings for their grandma, Helen, who had spent half of her life in a wheelchair. The life burden fell on Amy’s shoulders, which was too much for a girl.

Life moved on. One day, walking across the school grounds, Amy found a table littered with university brochures. She browsed through pictures of spacious campuses and happy peers, all of it looking unachievable for her, given the current situation and financial conditions. But her teacher gave her unexpected hope, saying“ You could attend university for free. It would take a scholarship, though, and for that you’d need much better grades.”

During her final year of high school, Amy diligently attended classes, then went to work after school, returned to her grandmother’s house, cared for her sisters and brothers and went through homework till the early hours of the morning, struggling for her dream university.

One afternoon, she walked home from school, holding a sheet of paper tightly. It was a letter from the University of California, informing her that she would be offered a scholarship and was admitted to the university. It was what she’d been longing for, a place where she could study to become someone special-a nurse, perhaps, or maybe even a lawyer.

Yet the letter only made Amy struggle inside.

The next afternoon, Amy spotted the wrinkled letter she threw into the dustbin on the table when arriving home.

Crab Lessons

My son Geordi was a rather spirited boy. Very little held his attention for long. He spent most of his spare time thinking up new ways to scare me half to death. Like the time he decided to “surf” on a tiny plastic table that was meant to hold a few drinks rather than a six-year-old boy. Geordi had just begun learning about the ocean in school and was surprisingly fascinated by it. We lived in Delaware, so any discussion about the ocean usually included horseshoe crabs, which crowded our coasts to mate in the late spring.

As part of the lesson, Geordi’s teacher brought horseshoe crab shells (壳) to school for the children to touch and examine. Hearing that horseshoe crabs had been around for over 300 million years, even before the dinosaurs, Geordi thought that was officially the coolest thing he had ever heard. He could not stop talking about it for days, and I decided it was time for us to take a drive to the Delaware Bay.

As we stepped out from the car, strong wind nearly blew my poor forty-five-pound child to the ground. Being a six-year-old mischievous (调皮的) boy, Geordi saw this as an opportunity to showcase his amazing talents, which included falling down, getting up, falling down and, yes, getting up again. This, of course, was always complete with giggles (咯咯笑). The drama came to a sudden stop as Geordi spied the dozens of army-truck-looking creatures in the sand. The next sound effect was “Wow!” as his body froze and his eyes widened with wonder.

Geordi ran around excitedly, not knowing which one to check out first. He settled on a horseshoe crab that was on its back, legs waving wildly in the air, desperate for water. “Mom, look at this one!” he screamed. “He’s cool!” I pointed out the different body parts of the crab for him, and he listened quietly and absorbed the information. He said, “I really liked him. I think I will name him Spike because he had all those really cool, spiky (尖的) things on his back.” Then I picked up the crab, turned it over to its proper position and placed it at the edge of the water.

Geordi asked what I was doing.

Geordi spotted many more horseshoe crabs on their backs.

It was a bright and sunny Saturday when Mr. Jones moved in next door. He is an old gentleman with thick-framed glasses and a wiry beard. I could see his many belongings: antique chests, a large and tattered (破败的) painting of a rainforest, and boxes and boxes of old books. The line of movers bringing items into the house was endless! However, there was one item that Mr. Jones refused to let the movers touch. It was covered in a red velvet cloth and he carefully carried it inside himself.

That night, I heard an odd noise coming from Mr. Jones’s house. It was such a strange noise that I could not sleep at all! To my astonishment and anxiety, every night the strange sound would come up. After much consideration, I decided to investigate this mystery. I wondered what on earth Mr. Jones was? What could this strange noise be? What could he be hiding? Many doubts always echoed in my mind.

The next day, to confirm my guess, I slid into his house. Mr. Jones had left the window of his basement unlocked and I crawled inside without permission. Making several attempts, I made it! I felt around the walls for a light switch and when I finally turned the light on, I was amazed!

The basement was like a museum. There were many exquisite jungles and animals’ models which were often seen in museums. On the bookshelf were some academic books about zoo animals. I also noticed some remaining corns in the corner. When I glanced at the table, there was a first-aid kit on it! Determined to find out the truth, I was making my way across the room when I heard that strange noise again, coming from upstairs! Nervously, I walked up the stairs as quietly as I could but then on the last step… the floor beneath my foot creaked (嘎吱作响)! I paused, hoping no one was home to hear me.

Suddenly, the door opened and there stood Mr. Jones staring right at me.

And then in the other room I saw it-a large cute parrot in a delicate gold cage!