I sat in the breakfast corner with my four-year-old son, Matthew, trying to ignore the ache in my stomach. I was still recovering from a surgery. I hoped for strength and happiness. But the future seemed so hopeless.

Matthew jumped up from his spot on the kitchen floor. “Bird!” he shouted, rushing to the sliding door. Sure enough, there was a white dove seated on a rubber tree. It sat there a few moments, and then flew away. I’d never seen one in our neighborhood before.

When I dragged myself to the kitchen the next morning, the dove was back. This time it was with a mate carrying twigs (嫩枝), “Look, Matthew,” I said, pointing to the tree. “They’re going to make a nest.” The doves flew in and out of the courtyard all week, building on the top of the rubber tree. Matthew could hardly contain his excitement. Every morning, he’d run into the kitchen and take his spot by the sliding glass door, talking to the birds while they worked. As much as I was grieving (感到悲伤), I couldn’t help but look forward to the doves’ visits too. We watched their progress as if it were a real-life soap opera unfolding before us. Gradually, my pain disappeared, replaced by joy.

Then it all went wrong. The courtyard was a safe enough spot for a nest, but the rubber tree’s broad, thin leaves were far from stable. One night, a strong wind blew through, throwing the doves’ nest to the ground. I heard the twigs break apart. Nothing good ever lasts. I wouldn’t blame the doves if they never came back. But they returned. And they paid no attention to the pi le of sticks that had once been their nest. They started again from scratch, though the wind destroyed all their hard work. The next day, and the next, they renewed their efforts, as if nothing had happened.

Paragraph 1: I knew I had to do something for the poor creatures.

Paragraph 2:“The birds were back!” Matthew announced.

Last Saturday, David was taking a walk in the park near his home when he noticed a woman with a boy of about eight years old. When David passed them, he heard the woman yell. “How stupid you are! You’re good at nothing.” David stopped and looked at the little boy. The boy said nothing. He just stood there, looking upset.

David was reminded of his English teacher Mrs Brown in middle school. After he entered a middle school, David lacked self-confidence because he was often made fun of by others. He was often told that he was good at nothing, which David behaved. But one day it all changed.

One day, in an English writing class, Mrs Brown asked them to read a novel. They were asked to write a new chapter of the novel after they finished reading it. A few days later, David handed in his story. He didn’t give it much thought. But the next day, to his surprise, the comment “well done” from Mrs Brown came into view the moment he turned to the page where the story was written. When David read that, he almost burst into tears. He never expected to be praised one day. He suddenly gained some self-confidence.

That day after he returned home, he wrote a short story and gave it to Mrs Brown the next morning. And again he was praised. David became very interested in writing. He often wrote short stories and asked Mrs Brown to read them improve writing skills. One year later, David joined the school newspaper and became an editor of it. He was no longer that boy who lacked self-confidence. He gained his confidence, and was hopeful about his future.

He succeeded in entering a college and kept writing. Several years after graduating from college, he had his first book published. With some more books coming out, he became famous as a writer in his country. And he owed his success to Mrs Brown’s encouragement. Without her encouragement, his life might be very different now.

Inspired by his own life story, David decided to do something for that boy.

The mother was ashamed when she heard that.

My Best Teaching Experience

Tyler was only in my senior class for a semester. He had been suspended (使停学) many times in previous years because of his anger issues. When he entered my class, I thought the worst.

Tyler sat in the back row. Every time I talked to the class, I would ask students questions, calling them by name. Unfortunately, every time I called on Tyler, he would respond with a joke. If he got an answer wrong, he would become angry.

About a month into the year, I was still trying to connect with Tyler. I can usually get students involved in class discussions or at least have them sit quietly and attentively (专心地). By contrast, Tyler was often loud and sometimes rude.

He had been in so much trouble over the years. He expected his teachers to know about his past; about how many times he had been sent to the office or suspended from school. I had found that these sorts of referrals (移交) were not very effective and that students would return from the office behaving worse than before.

One day, Tyler was talking over me while I was teaching. I stopped my lesson and said, “Tyler, why don’t you join in our discussion instead of having one of your own?” With that, he got up from his chair, pushed it over and yelled something. I can’t remember what he said other than that he included some impolite words. I sent Tyler straight to the office, and he received a week’s suspension.

To this point, this was one of my worst teaching experiences. Tyler’s anger was almost too much for me. The week Tyler was suspended from school was a wonderful time, and we got a lot accomplished as a class. However, the suspension week would soon come to an end, and I was fearful of his return.

On the day of Tyler’s return, I stood at the door awaiting him.

A spark of surprise flashed across his face.

Jenny was the only child in her family. She had a quarrel (吵架) with her mother that afternoon and she ran out of the house angrily. She couldn’t help weeping sorrowfully when she thought of the scolding from her mother. Having wandered aimlessly in the street for hours, she felt a little hungry and wished for something to eat. She stood beside a stand (货摊) for a while, watching the middle-aged seller busy doing his business. However, with no money in hand, she gave a sigh and had to leave.

The seller behind the stand noticed the young girl and asked, “Hey, girl, you want to have the noodles?”

“Oh, yes, but I don’t have money on me.” she replied.

“That’s nothing. I’ll treat you today,” said the man, “Come in.”

The seller brought her a bowl of noodles, whose smell was so attractive. As she was eating, Jenny cried silently.

“What is it?” asked the man kindly.

“Nothing. Actually, I was just touched by your kindness!” said Jenny as she wiped her tears. “Even a stranger on the street will give me a bowl of noodles, while my mother drove me out of the house. She showed no care for me. She is so merciless compared to a stranger!”

Hearing the words, the seller smiled, “Girl, do you really think so? I only gave you a bowl of noodles and you thanked me a lot. But it is your mother who has raised you since you were a baby. Can you remember the times she cooked for you? Have you expressed your gratitude to her?”

Jenny sat there, speechless and numb with shock: she remembered her mother’s familiar face and weathered hands. “Why didn’t I think of that? A bowl of noodles from a stranger made me feel grateful. Why haven’t I thanked my mum for what she has done for me?”

On the way home. Jenny made up her mind to make an apology to her mother for her rudeness as soon as she arrived home.

Nearing the doorway, Jenny took a deep breath.

At that time, her mother came back and touched her hair gently, which called her mind back.

Opening presents carefully selected by our parents is our family tradition on Christmas morning, which always pushes the festive atmosphere to the climax. However, this year’s Christmas seemed not as happy as usual.

It was Christmas Eve when my sister and I decided to open our presents before our mom got home from work. Though worried about ruining my mom’s original plan, we still wanted to sneak a peek (偷看) at the gifts in advance, driven by a strong impulse of curiosity. Since my sister was older, and that put her in charge, she opened the first gift while I was ordered to stand guard at the big picture window in our front room. I was to report any suspicious activity or person, namely our mother, who can easily capture the details of life.

I was so excited that I could barely stand still. I also couldn’t keep my eyes on the window very long. My head moved from the window to my sister and back to the window again. I felt like I was watching a Ping-Pong match.

“All right!” my sister shouted. She pulled out a jewelry box. “You know what that means, don’t you?”

I jumped up and down. “Yeah, it’s my turn!”

“No,” she said. “It means that there must be some jewelry under here.” I watched my sister rummaging (翻寻) through the presents under the tree, trying to find one she thought was small enough to be a necklace or earrings.

“Hey, that’s not fair!” I complained, stomping my foot.

“Are you watching for Mom?” is all that she said. I couldn’t do anything except stand guard as she opened present after present. Finally, when my sister’s curiosity was satisfied and she had finished wrapping her last present back up, we traded places.

My heart hammered so hard that it felt like my chest was moving in and out. My sister reminded me to be careful so I wouldn’t tear the paper, and to wrap the present back up the same way that I had found it.

After unwrapping a few presents, I found it faster to open one end of a present and peek inside. “Headphones! How can my mom know what I want! Without any hesitation, I pulled the headphones out of the box.

I was about to put them on when my sister shouted, “Quick! Mom’s coming!”

Christmas morning finally approached, and we were ready to open our presents again!_

Rick was a young boy that was constantly angry at everything around him. He always fought in school with the other kids. His teachers couldn’t say anything that would calm the kid. And the parents of his schoolmates were getting concerned. The boy was earning quite the reputation.

After talking with school officials, Rick’s mom tried everything she can to calm Rick down. She tried different methods until one day she came home with a canvas and paint.

“What’s this?”, Rick asked.

Rick’s mom handed over the painting equipment and said, “Whenever you feel angry, paint whatever it is you’re angry about.”

Rick wasn’t that happy about it but he gave it a try anyway. Over the next few weeks, the young boy created several artworks. They mostly showed disturbing images though. So his mom took all of the paintings and called Rick over so that they could talk about them.

“Tell me, Rick. What are these paintings about?”

“Well, the first painting is about how some of the kids show off their new clothes and gadgets. The next painting is about my teacher who keeps on telling me about how I’m doing things wrong. And the last painting is about how one of my schoolmate’s father suggested that I change my attitude. All of them make me so angry.”

Rick’s mom, in a calm voice, took Rick by her side and told him:

“Don’t you see it, Rick?”

“See what?”

“You’re so angry at all of these things but not once did you try to understand why you’re getting so angry. What have all these people done to you, really? Don’t you find that all they’re trying to do is help you become a better person?

One day, when I was 7 years old, my father was standing in line to buy tickets for the circus for me.

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.

I could sense that 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 hero.”

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 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 understand 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.

Jenny was the only child in her home. She had a quarrel with her mother that afternoon and she ran out of the house angrily. She couldn’t help weeping sorrowfully when she thought of the scolding from her mother. Having wandered aimlessly in the street for hours, she felt a little hungry and wished for something to eat, but it was not even possible for her, since she had nothing with her. She stood beside a stand for a while, watching the middle-aged seller busy doing his business. However, with no money in hand, she sighed and had to leave.

The seller behind the stand noticed the young girl and asked, “Hey, girl, you want to have the noodles?”

“Oh, yes... but I don’t have money on me...” she replied.

“That’s nothing. I’ll treat you today,” said the man, “come in.”

The seller brought her a bowl of noodles, whose smell was so attractive. As she was eating, Jenny cried silently.

“What is it?” asked the man kindly.

“Nothing, actually I was just touched by your kindness!” said Jenny as she wiped her tears, “Even a stranger on the street will give me a bowl of noodles, while my mother drove me out of the house. She showed no care for me. She is so merciless compares to a stranger!”

Hearing the words, the seller smiled, “Girl, do you really think so? I only gave you a bowl of noodles and you thanked me a lot. But it is your mother who has raised you up since you were a baby. Can you number the times she cooked for you? Have you expressed your gratitude to her?”

Jenny sat here, speechless and numb with shock; she remembered mother’s familiar face and weathered hands. “Why did I not think of that? A bowl of noodles from a stranger made me feel indebted, but I have never thanked my mum for what she has done for me.”

On the way home, Jenny made up her mind to make an apology to her mother for her rudeness as soon as she arrived home.

Approaching (靠近) the doorway (门口), Jenny took a deep breath (深吸了一口气).

A gentle touch (抚摸) on her hair called her mind back (使她回过神来)

When I was in middle school, my family moved to Seattle, where my parents started their new business — a small grocery store downstairs my house. As a girl of shy and reserved nature, I had to take a fresh start to fit into the sophisticated city life.

One sunny day, my school announced an exciting event, a talent show for the local food bank. Students were encouraged to showcase their unique talents in front of the public in the city hall on National Day. A buzz of excitement fed the school as everyone began preparing for the big day. Deep down, I felt a spark of curiosity and a desire to participate. However, my self-doubt held me back, “I don’t have any special skills to share.”

Days turned into weeks, and the talent show drew closer. I couldn’t shake the upsetting feeling until one day, Emma, one of the most popular girls in my class, came to me while I was helping in the grocery store after class. “How about singing together in the talent show?” She grinned, “I heard you singing a tune, along the way back home. I can’t help following you here.” Gosh, I couldn’t believe my ears. Emma, with personality and popularity, acknowledged my little talent. Since Emma had the world’s prettiest voice, I felt like being favoured by fortune.

“You two? The talent show for the food bank?” My mum bent towards us and her face lit up. “A big occasion.” Then a light bulb seemed to go in her head. “Why not practise right now upstairs? I bet you’ll be a perfect match.” Winking at us, she seemed to know we were thinking alike.

Emma and I embarked on rehearsing almost every single day after school. We brainstormed, exchanged ideas and rehearsed the scene. As the days rolled by, I was feeling pretty good about our act. But the day before the performance, Emma called that she had an acute stomachache and was not in any shape to perform.

I was completely knocked out by the news.

Finally came the big moment.