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.

One afternoon after school, Mary and her brother, Keith, were eating at a cafe near their home. That afternoon, they had to share their table with another person. That person was a young lady in her twenties. After eating, she went to the restroom. Without realizing, she had left her cellphone on the table. Five minutes later, she came out and walked out of the cafe without looking back.

Mary saw the cellphone on the table. She quickly told Keith, “Keith, the girl left behind her cellphone.”Keith looked at the cellphone. It took his breath away. It was one of the latest models on the market. Keith had always wanted a cellphone. But his parents had told him, “You don’t need one. You can always use the house phone.” He stared at it for some minutes. Then, he said slowly, pausing on every word, “I want to take the cellphone.” Mary could not believe her ears. She only stared at her brother, “You can’t! What if the owner comes to look for it?”

After making the decision, Keith quickly got the cellphone and put it in his schoolbag. Then, he took Mary’s hand and led her out of the cafe quickly.

Once back home, Keith locked his room door with trembling (颤抖的) hands. Inside his room, he took out the piece of beauty. Oh, he liked it so much. He had his own cellphone. Soon, he was polishing it happily. But Mary told him, “Keith, you cannot keep the cellphone. What will you tell our father about this? He will ask you how you got the cellphone.” Keith said quickly, “I will say a friend lent it to me.” Mary said, “Now you are lying too. Oh dear! When had Keith turned so dishonest?”

Then, Mary saw a house phone number on the cover of the cellphone. “This is the girl’s phone number. Why don’t we just call this number? We will talk to her and ask her to come and take back her cellphone,” she was trying to talk some sense into him.

That night, Keith turned over in bed from time to time.

Mary was very happy to hear that.

In 1989, fresh out of high school, I had the difficult task of choosing a career path before college started in three months. In those days in Pakistan, there were limited choices: becoming a doctor or an engineer, or entering the financial world after getting a business degree. I wasn’t interested in engineering, so that I was left with medicine or business. I couldn’t decide.

My uncle suggested that I do a work placement(实习) to experience it for a month in an international company followed by a month in a hospital. After that, I could make a decision. It seemed like a good idea.

I was accepted for a month’s placement at a foreign bank in Karachi. I got a feel of how the world of finance functioned, made new friends, and generally enjoyed the mostly easy­going work surroundings.

The month passed rapidly, and soon I began working at a leading hospital in Karachi. The experience couldn’t have been more different. The hospital had a stressful environment. The days started early (at 7 am, compared to 9 am at the bank), and were filled with endless duties. And the night calls! This was crazy, working all day, through the night, and again the next day.

I began thinking about my two experiences. The bank had offered a more relaxing atmosphere, better working hours and less stress. The hospital was full of excitement, but studying and training were difficult. It seemed that the business choice was going to win out.

Near the end of my month at the hospital, I was driving home after an especially busy night call. In front of me was a public bus, with college students sitting on the top. As the driver weaved through (穿梭) traffic, I could see the boys shaking from side to side.

Suddenly, a boy fell off the back of the bus.

The next day, when I went to the hospital to see the boy, all his family got up, with grateful smiles on their faces.

Lightning flashed through the darkness over Sibson’s bedroom skylight(天窗). Sibson was shaken by a clap of thunder before he knew what was happening. The storm had moved directly through his two-story wooden house. Then he heard the smoke alarm beeping.

Sibson rushed down the stairs barefoot to check. He opened the door to the basement, and flames exploded out. Sibson ran back upstairs to call 911 from his bedroom. “I felt glad because the room had a separate outdoor stairway,” he explained to the media later.

But the phone didn’t work, and when he tried to go down the outdoor stairway, he was stopped by a wall of flames. Sibson realized he was trapped. Suddenly, a piece of wood fell from the roof. Sharp pain raced through his body as he looked down and found his leg bleeding.

Sibson’s house was three kilometers off the main road and was so well hidden by trees that he knew calling for help would be fruitless.

Up a hill nearby lived Sibson’s neighbor, Huggons. He was lying in bed when something like a smoke alarm struck his ears. He jumped out of bed, took his phone and flashlight, and headed down the hillside toward the noise. That was when he saw the rolling heavy smoke.

Huggons dialed 911, and the operator warned him not to enter the house. But Huggons said, “There is no way I am going to listen to Sibson scream and die in that fire.”

“Anyone there?” Huggons called out. Then he heard “Help! I’m trapped!” coming from the second floor balcony. He entered the house, but soon had to run back to catch his breath.

After one more attempt to get inside the house, Huggons gave up and circled around back. The wind parted the smoke just enough for him to catch sight of Sibson. But there was no way to get to him.

With the wind fueling the fire, there was no time to waste and the second floor seemed to be falling down in the next minute.

“Go! Leave me alone!” shouted Sibson with desperate tears in his eyes, “It will kill you, too.”

It was eight o'clock on a May morning, and Micah, my 17-year-old daughter, was already in our spare room upstairs. It had been her temporary eleventh-grade classroom ever since schools had moved to remote learning due to the pandemic.

From the kitchen, I listened for the sound of her tapping on her laptop or her talking with her classmates in their discussion sessions. We’d barely left the house for 10 weeks straight.

“Mom, everyone is hanging out today!” Micah’s voice echoed from upstairs. “Why can’t I?” I stepped up the stairs. Micah was lying on the floor wearing her pajamas, her laptop, school iPad and cellphone in front of her.

“It’s not fair,” she said.“ I have no one I can be with. I can ‘t wait until I’m 18 and can do what I want.”

We’d had this conversation before. Still, I couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. I was sick of being alone too. Even though Micah and I were home together more than we had been in years, we might as well have been living in separate worlds.

“Wanna watch videos later?” I asked. “Bake some cookies?”

“No, thanks.” Micah shook her head, as if the idea of doing something together was impossible.

I closed the door. I was used to Micah’s rejection, but it still made me upset. Teenage independence is healthy, but I worried if I didn’t find a way to bond with my girl soon, I might never be close to her again. She’d be 18 in the fall and had already convinced herself she didn’t need me anymore. Maybe she was right. No matter what I did, I couldn’t seem to reach her.

That evening, I logged onto a social app and saw a friend’s children playing with their new kitten. My mind went back to when I was in high school and our family moved. It was hard making friends. Mom surprised me with an eight-week-old gray kitten that I named Miss Muffet. Having a kitten to love and train brightened my days and got me through that difficult, lonely time. Maybe Micah would like a kitten.

I asked if she wanted a kitten.

In the car, Micah put the kitten under her chin.