It was one of those super cold Saturdays in New York. I woke up with my son Bisher, who just turned 13 and was in 6th Grade. He was well organized and had an alarm clock so he woke up on time. When Bisher was taking a bath, I had already made breakfast for my family and we were ready to leave. My pet dogs Milo and Jego were having their mealtime too.

I was going to my parents' farm with my family in my truck, like I always do during winter. It's an hour's drive from New York City to the farm. I was driving a Mitsubishi Triton and the dogs were at the back of the truck.

An hour later, when we all reached the farm, Bisher got so excited that he started to talk to the dogs and imagine what fun they would have during this holiday. When I opened the fence, it was 2:15 pm. In no time I saw my parents' dogs—Jamie and Rocky—rushing into sight, wagging their tails and barking and howling to show their excitement. With all this noisy welcome of dogs, my mom, who was in the kitchen, hurried to open the main door and hugged us tight. After all the meeting and greeting, I went into the room and kept all our luggage.

My father is a farmer, my mom is a housewife, and they live on the farm. That night my family were enjoying my mom's special recipe of fish and chips with vegetable soup and sharing old stories of our childhood memories. At that very moment we heard some strange noise of chickens clucking (咯咯叫) and Jamie's continuous barking. Feeling brave, the three of us—my father, Bisher and I—started to follow the barking.

It was a cold December night and the moon was shining bright.

Upon our return, Bisher told the whole story to my mother.

When my daughter. Rachel was 6 years old, we went to the local shelter, looking for a perfect cat. We liked all the cats we saw there, but we especially loved one that was black with a small white tip to her tail, like a bright star in the night sky. We brought her home and called her Starry.

Starry was lovely. At night when we watched TV, she would come into Rachel’s lap and comfortably stay there. Starry always got her face close to Rachel’s, ending her love with a gentle touch on Rachel’s nose. Sometimes I felt so jealous (忌妒的) of their love. Although I was the one who tank care of the cat, feeding and cleaning it, Starry was clearly Rachel’s cat. Finally, I came to love watching their close relationship

My little girl grew up and went to senior high school. Starry and Rachel were still close, though Rachel spent less and less time at home. starry spent most of her day sitting on the sideboard in the dining room, looking out of the window into the backyard. I loved seeing her as I passed by her, for her shiny black coat almost sparkled (闪烁) in the sunlight and the white tip of her tail looked bright against the shining black of her body.

One Sunday morning, early in November, Starry got out of, the room before we could stop her. When Rachel came home from school, she went into the room with a worried expression. “Where’s Starry?” she asked. When we told her we didn’t know, she led us outside with her. There was a black cat lying on the street.

It was Starry.

Days without Starry went by, but one Christmas recalled us of Starry.

It was a hot day. The sun scorched (炙烤) down and everywhere you looked, you could see the heat waves blowing above the sand. John rolled over, realizing that half of his body was well and truly burnt. He had not meant to sleep in the sun but the heat and late nights studying for his examinations made him miserable. Stretching, he got to his feet, picked up his surfboard and looked around. The beach, which had earlier been crowded in the sun, was now comparatively empty. Seagulls flew down to clean up the food of people’s picnic lunches.

The ice-cream van had gone, and so were the lifeguards who were doing first aid on the beach. John looked up to where the sun was and estimated it was about five o’clock. Time to head home. It was “Mum’s Kitchen Rule” that had him moving homewards. If he did not get home in time for dinner, he would go hungry. Wandering along the water’s edge, he happened to glance out to sea. What made him look up at that particular moment, he never knew, but it was the right time for the swimmer he spotted. His hand was up, signaling distress (险情) and he was calling out something.

Quickly John glanced around the beach — no one else was close enough to help the man, and crucially, no one had noticed. Cupping his hands to his mouth, he shouted “Help” to get the attention of other people on the beach. Someone waved back to him and John pointed to the swimmer. “Get help,” he shouted. Then without hesitation, he jumped into the sea with his surfboard. John was a strong swimmer and had a good skill for distance swimming. His coach had tried hard to persuade him to go into competitions but he was not interested.

Now he was swimming for more than enjoyment or medals.

Fortunately, the sea was not rough and there was no wave.

I was in about 40 feet of water all by myself. I knew I should not have gone alone, but I was rather competent and just took a chance. There was not much current, and the water was so warm, clear and attractive. When I got a cramp (抽筋), I realized at once how foolish I was. I was not too alarmed, but was completely doubled up with stomach cramps. I tried to remove my weight belt, but I was so doubled up I could not get to the catch. I was sinking and began to feel more frightened, unable to move. I could see my watch and knew there was only a little more time on the tank before I would be out of air. I tried to massage (按摩) my stomach. I wasn’t wearing a wet suit, but couldn’t straighten out and couldn’t get to the cramped muscles with my hands. I thought, “I can’t go like this! I have things to do!” I just couldn’t die this way with no one to even know what happened to me. I called out in my mind, “Somebody, something, help me!”

I was not prepared for what happened. Suddenly I felt a push from behind me under the arm. I thought, “Oh no, sharks!” I felt real fear and desperate. But my arm was being lifted forcefully. Around into my field of vision came an eye — the most extraordinary eye I could ever imagine. It was smiling. It was the eye of a big dolphin. Looking into that eye, I knew I was safe. I was flooded with relief. I felt that the animal was comforting me as well as lifting me toward the surface. My stomach cramps went away and I relaxed with security.

At the surface it drew me all the way into shore. It took me into water so shallow that I began to be concerned that it might be beached, and I pushed it back a little deeper, where it waited, watching me, I guess to see if I was all right.

Jack tossed(抛，扔)the papers on my desk—his eyebrows knit(皱眉)into a straight line as he glared at me.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

He pointed at the proposal. “Next time you want to change anything, ask me first,” He said, turning on his heels and leaving me in anger.

How dare he treat me like that, I thought. I had changed one long sentence, and corrected grammar, something I thought I was paid to do.

It’s not that I hadn’t been warned. Other women who had worked my job before me called Jack names I couldn’t repeat. One coworker took me aside the first day. “He’s personally responsible for two different secretaries leaving the firm,” she whispered.

As the weeks went by, I grew to hate Jack. His actions made me question much that I believed in, such as turning the other cheek and loving your enemies. I prayed about the situation, but to be honest, I wanted to put Jack in his place, not like him.

One day another of his episodes left me in tears. I stormed into his office, prepared to lose my job if needed, but not before I let the man know how I felt. I opened the door and Jack glanced up. “What?” he asked abruptly.

Suddenly I knew what I had to do. After all, he deserved it.

I sat across from him and said calmly, “Jack, the way you’ve been treating me is wrong. I’ve never had anyone speak to me that way. As a professional, it’s wrong, and I can’t allow it to continue.”

Jack snickered(暗笑)nervously and leaned back in his chair. I closed my eyes briefly. God help me, I prayed.

“I want to make you a promise. I will be a friend,” I said. “I will treat you as you deserve to be treated, with respect and kindness. You deserve that. Everybody does. That’s what friends do.” I slipped out of the chair and closed the door behind me.

Jack avoided me the rest of the week.

One year later, one day after my surgery for breast cancer, Jack stood awkwardly in the doorway of my small, darkened hospital room.