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.

I started my dormitory life this year and met my roommate Kate. In the process of getting along, we found that we both enjoy reading and watching science fictions. With similar hobbies, our relationship immediately became closer. We went to class and canteen together every day in pairs.

Although we considered each other as the best friend, there were frictions in our life style. I was never very neat, while Kate was extremely organized. Each of her objects had its place, but mine always hid somewhere. She even labeled everything. I always looked for everything.

Over time, Kate got neater and I got messier. She would push my dirty clothing over, and I would lay my books on her tidy desk. We both got tired of each other and never stopped trying to change the other person’s life style. Our friendship went ups and downs like a boat on the sea. Dissatisfaction with the other was accumulating.

War broke out one evening. Kate came into the room. Soon, I heard her screaming, “Take your shoes away! Why under my bed!” Deafened, I saw my shoes flying at me. I was rather irritated (激怒). How could she act like that? I could not control my temper either. I jumped to my feet and started yelling. She yelled back louder. Neither of us was willing to calm down to be a good listener.

The room was filled with anger. We could not have stayed together for a single minute but for a phone call. Kate answered it. From her end of the conversation, I could tell right away her dear grandma was seriously ill. When she hung up, she quickly crawled under her covers, burying her face. From where I stood, I saw her back slightly up and down. Obviously, she was sobbing. That was something she should not go through alone. All of a sudden, a warm feeling of sympathy rose up in my heart.

Slowly I began to move.

She was watching in disbelief, her tears dried.

Jack still remembers that one morning when he was only ten years old. He was at home with his elder sister Lily. Jack was doing his homework when he heard raised voices. At first, he thought nothing of it since customers' voice in the motorcycle shop directly below their flat often became loud, but he soon realized this time it was different.

“Quick! Quick! Remove the motorcycles from the shop.” someone shouted.

Then a thick burning smell filled the air. When Jack opened the front door of their flat to investigate, a thick cloud of smoke greeted him. The motorcycle shop had caught fire and people were running and crying.

Lily, who had been playing the violin in her room, hurried to the living room. They rushed out of the door and along the corridor through the smoke.

They were heading towards the stairway at the far end of the corridor when Lily stopped in her track. She turned around and headed back the way they came. Jack had no idea what she was doing, but he followed her.

Lily had suddenly remembered the lady in her 70s who lived next door to them, who they called Makcik, Malay for auntie. Lily began banging on Makcik’s door, but got no answer. As the smoke thickened around them, Jack could see many of their neighbors — some still in their pyjamas — running for safety. The thought of fear crossed his mind.

“She might have run for safety like everyone else!” Jack cried. However, Lily refused to give up. “I know Makcik's still inside.” She said she was familiar with Makcik's daily routine and was certain she would still be sleeping. She pounded the door. “Go downstairs. Go now! Go!”

Just at that time, Jack noticed the flame was reaching up.

Luckily, all the neighbors went downstairs and an ambulance came.

On a steamy morning in July, Clay and Acaimie Chastain arrived at the base of Mount Liamuiga on the Caribbean island of St．Kitts, ready to spend a day of their honeymoon climbing Mount Liamuiga．The highest point on St．Kitts, Liamuiga is also a dormant（休眠的）volcano that starts in the clouds and plunges down to meet the sea．

They couldn't find a visitor centre or hire a guide, so they set off on their own．They reached the peak around noon and ate their sandwiches looking out over the ocean and surrounding islands．

That's when Clay saw it: a small trail that led into the volcano's crater（坑）, a bowl of green with cloud forest giving way to green grass．A series of screw eyes（螺钉孔）had been drilled into the rocks, with ropes that led down．Clay wanted to go down and take some pictures．Acaimie followed him a little way, but she was very cautious and quite scared of heights；so Clay went on alone．

A few minutes later, she heard a crash——a noise that sounded like a large branch snapping, followed by the sound of something big rolling downhill．"Clay?" she called．Silence．

Uneasy, she waited a minute and shouted again——still nothing．And then, from somewhere much further down, she heard a weak cry for help．This time she was certain: It was Clay calling for help from deep within the crater．

As she looked over the lip of the volcano, she tried to stop some of her worst worries．Her phone wasn't getting a signal, and her cries for help were met with only silence．"Clay!" she shouted as loud as she could．"Clay, are you OK?"

Acaimie grasped the rope and began climbing down the trail．When the path became too steep, she slid on her butt, her legs and arms getting bruised and scraped in the process．Then, just off the trail, she saw a flash of red．It was Clay's scarf．And next to it was his cell phone．

She grabbed both and continued down, screaming for Clay all the way．

"Help," he said in that strange voice．

"I'm coming! Stay where you are," she said．

When I was ten years old, I lived with my family in a small house in rural South Jersey. I often accompanied my mother to the A&P to buy groceries. Without a car, we walked, and I would help her carry the bags.

My mother had to shop every carefully, as she was a waitress, and her salary barely sustained (勉强维持) us. One day, while she was weighing prices, a promotional display for the World Book Encyclopedia (百科全书) caught my eye. The volumes were beautifully cream-colored. Volume I was ninety-nine cents with a ten-dollar purchase.

All I could think of while shopping was the book. I stood at the register (收银台) with my mother, holding my breath as the cashier rang up the items. It came to over eleven dollars. My mother produced a five, some singles, and a handful of change. As she was counting out the money, I somehow found the courage to ask for the encyclopedia. “Could we get one?” I said, showing her the display. “It’s only ninety-nine cents.”

I did not understand my mother’s increasing anxiety; she did not have enough change and had to sacrifice a large can of peas to pay the amount, “Not now, Patricia,” she said sternly. “Today is not a good day.” I packed the groceries and followed her home, upset.

The next Saturday. my mother gave me a dollar and sent me to the A&P alone. Two quarts of milk and a loaf of bread — that’s what a dollar in 1957. I went straight to the World Book display. There was only one first volume left, which I placed in my cart (购物车). I didn’t need a cart, but took one so I could read as I went up and down the aisles. A lot of time went by and I knew I had to leave, but I couldn’t bear to part with the book. With no detective in sight, I, impulsively (冲动地), put it inside my shirt and zipped (扣上拉链) up my jacket. I was a tall, skinny kid, and I am certain the shape of the book was obvious.

My heart beating rapidly, I headed for the register.

Back home, I told my mother what I had promised the detective.