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.

As an only child, I often felt lonely in my youth. But that all changed when I turned ten. For my birthday, my grandmother surprised me with a lovely gray dog named Chloe. From the very start, we were inseparable (分不开的). I regarded her as my best friend. Every time a little love I gave, the little dog returned tenfold (十倍). She was such a sweet dog and she’d lick my face forever if I didn’t stop her. Once Chloe was injured, leaving a scar on her head. I cried for a long time and promised to protect her forever.

However, when I was 14, my father got a new job that came with a terrible warning: He’d be working from home, so the house needed to be absolutely quiet and couldn’t be disturbed by any sound. But Chloe was very yappy (喜欢叫的). With no easier choice, the whole family finally sent Chloe to a pet organization. Though we were optimistic that the dog would find a new home with people who loved her, we couldn’t know for sure.

I called the pet organzation to try to find out what happened to her, but they couldn’t tell me anything. So I never knew. As time went by, I grew up and got a good job. But my life didn’t feel quite complete. Remembering the joy that having a dog had brought me as a kid, I wanted to experience the same again. I had it in my mind that I would adopt a dog, but then one day I saw a post on the Internet about a senior dog that needed a new home. The dog in the photograph looked a lot like Chloe and it was even named Chloe.

I immediately decided that I would adopt this old dog.

But my mom suddenly realized there was a way to test my guess.

Nancy did cleaning in a commercial building with a fancy supermarket, a gym, a spa (温泉疗养中心), and a few fast food places. It was fairly populated, and people often showed kindness to her.

She often bought bread that was to be expired (过期的) soon in the supermarket and the employees there were familiar with her. During her break time, she liked to observe people, especially families. Nancy often saw a lady in the building. Usually the lady went to the gym first and then headed to the spa. Later, she’d come out dressed like a manager. One day, the woman took her kid with her. The little boy was no more than eight years old and didn’t look happy to be there with his mom.

“Henry, come on. I have to go to the gym now and hurry to get to work on time later,” the mother said in a rush.

The boy protested (反对) with a sad voice,“What am I going to do while you’re working out?” “Just sit still and read your book in the waiting area,” the mother replied.

“Can you at least buy me some candy? You promised earlier,” the boy complained. “I don’t have time right now. Please hurry inside,” the mother answered.

Then the mother took the son’s hand and rushed into the gym. Nancy witnessed this all and was reminded of her own similar busy life in the past. She was once also a young busy woman. Her personal and work-related matters always came first in her life. She failed to spare enough time for her son and attach enough importance to his wishes. When she realized her problems, it was too late. Her son lost his life in an accident, leaving her with deep sadness and regret. To make matters worse, her company went bankrupt (破产) soon after.

Reflecting on her past life, Nancy had a thought. Though she was not wealthy, she wanted to do something nice for the boy: buy him a bar of chocolate.

Billy was a six-year-old boy. He was very excited but was a little nervous about his first camping trip with his parents.

“What if the tent falls over and kills us? What if the wind blows the tent away? What if a wolf comes into the tent and eats us? ... ,”he kept asking his father silly questions.

“Perhaps, you have read too many stories with big bad wolves,” his father replied, laughing. “There aren’t any wolves in the city or even in the whole country, except in zoos.”

“Well, what if one escaped from a zoo?” Billy insisted.

“Zoos were careful enough not to let their animals escape,” his father comforted Billy.

Billy soon forgot about wolves as they started preparing for the camping trip. Billy helped his father load up the car. They put in the tent, a big one for the whole family. Then the sleeping bags, blankets and more. When everything was packed, his father started the car. Soon they were leaving the city behind them.

“Look at the cows!” shouted his mother excitedly when they were arriving at the campsite, which belonged to a farm and was in a big field. “They are eating the grass!”

Once the tent was set up, Billy went to explore. There were trees to climb and a stream for catching insects and fish. The day flew by and it was getting dark.

As they got inside the tent and were ready for sleep, strange noises kept coming from the distance.

“What’s that noise? Is it a wolf approaching?” Billy asked his mother and moved closer to her.

“Maybe it’s just the wind,” said his mother, who patted Billy sleepily.

Billy didn’t say anything and made himself into his sleeping bag. After a long day outdoors, his father and mother were very tired and fell asleep soon.

But Billy was too nervous to sleep.

Carefully, Billy opened the tent’s door and went outside.

In the first grade in senior high school, I was extremely shy, I had friends, but it just wasn’t in my personality to be very outgoing, even when I knew someone. I was afraid I would do or say something wrong, so usually I just smiled and listened to other people’s conversations.

I did well in school and I loved to write. However, I would escape into my writing, where I could be myself and never had to worry about what other people thought of me. In my stories, I was never shy, I often imagined that I was the main character in the story. My teacher, Mrs. Sather, always encouraged me to write more and be myself. She told our class to go after our dreams and dig in with great efforts. I thoughts he was one of the first people to see my inner strength.

One day, she showed us a play she had written and announccd that our class was going to perform it. “I’ll begin to choose all the performers tomorrow” she said, “I need someone who is not afraid to be onstage in front of a lot of people to play the lead part of Dorothy. Anybody wants to try?” A few excited hands shot up -mine, of course, was not one of them and Mrs. Sather smiled. “We’ll talk more about it later,” she said. Then the bell rang and my classmates slowly left the classroom.

“I will never do that,” I thought. But after rereading the play, I was deeply attracted by the story and couldn’t help imagining myself to be the main character Dorothy. There seemed to be a new person inside me, a much more daring, outgoing person who had been hidden all along, just waiting for the opportunity to appear. However, I still felt shy and could never picture myself acting in a play in front of two hundred people. Having struggled for a few minutes, I still did not know how to make the decision.

When I was packing my schoolbag, Mrs Sather asked me to go to her.

One week later, it was time for me to perform on the stage.

As one as I can remember, it is more than 5 years since Dad left us, whom we missed very much. And what we are supposed to do now is accompany Mum very well, caring for her as much as possible. Mum cherishes everything from Dad, especially the thing that gives her a beautiful memory.

Yesterday, after telling my brother Rhys, and me to stop playing like wild animals, Mum went to take a bath. We were having a pillow fight when suddenly one hit a vase. Mum heard the loud crash. Wasting no time, she went wiping into the room. I was sure that she was going to shout at us, but instead she just knelt by the pieces and began to cry.

This made Rhys and me feel pretty awful. My mom explained to us why she was so upset. In the pieces lay a broken glass rose, one pedal (花瓣) gone, which was given by Dad on their first wedding and anniversary. Dad had said that if he ever forgot to bring flowers home for an anniversary in the future, Mum was to look at that one. It was like their love: it would last a lifetime.

We began crying, and offered to glue it. But Mum said that wouldn’t really fix. Now that it had been broken, the value of the “limited edition” had reduced. Tears kept coming down her cheeks.

With great regret, I put both my hands on her shoulders and begged her to forgive us. Mum remained in sadness. And I continued to comfort her, “All things can be broken, Mum. But the only thing that cannot be broken is our love, which is the strongest thing that can never be broken.” Hearing this, Mum seemed to be a little relieved. Turning to me and looking at me in the eye, she responded, “You are right, my son.”

Mum hugged me very tightly and finally smiled.

In the back of my closet is a small box that has followed me to every new address. It’s the first thing I find a place for as the moving truck pulls away. The only remaining contents in it are dozens of notes in my mother’s tidy writing. My mother, who put her business degree to use running a small company with my father, while raising me, was always prepared and always gave me abundant love. By day she made marketing slogans and distribution strategies. By night: bubble baths and bedtime stories. She and I had the same February birthday. Each year my parents arranged wonderful parties.

When I was 3, she learned she had advanced breast cancer and immediately began to prepare by rescarching every available treatment. Each day, she would sit for hours at our dining table, her straight dark hair tied back, surrounded by piles of paper, studying, technical paragraphs.

When I was 7, the materials on the dining table began to change. Wrapping (包装) paper and ribbons (丝带) took the place of her highlighted pages. Paper creased (折) under her fingers. Knots (蝴蝶结) came together with a tiny creak. She had begun making a gift box for me.

Inside, she packed presents and letters for the milestones of my life she would miss—graduation, wedding, and every birthday until the age of 30. My mother died 10 days before our shared birthday. That morning, when I turned 12 and she would have turned 49, I woke up early and opened the box as my mother had shown me.

Neat rows of brightly wrapped presents glowed like the spring tulips (郁金香) that were just coming up in the front yard. In the package marked “12th Birthday”, I found a little ring with an amethyst (紫水晶) at its center. A white card curling around the present read: “I always wanted a birthstone ring when I was a little girl. I hope you like it, too. Happy birthday, darling girl! Love, your Mommy.”

On the morning of my high school graduation, I walked to the box.

Today I hit 31, and I sat in my room, holding the nearly empty box.