We had moved to a new town for my husband’s work. After living here for just a couple of weeks, I was more than ready to pick up my luggage and move back home. I was lonely for a friend. My boy Samuel was lonely. My husband, Lonny, adapted just fine, but he was occupied with work most of the time.

I missed our old neighborhood. It had been like a closely knitted community where neighbors chatted over fences. Newcomers were welcomed with chocolate brownies (巧克力蛋糕) and carrot bread. It had been easy to find friends there.

Our new community was different. It seemed that family roots grew deep. Deep as the Mississippi River that flowed past this tiny river town. Breaking in was tough.

“I’m so alone here,” I said to Lonny one evening. Lonny is a good listener, and a problem solver. “What have you done to meet people?” he asked. “I go to the park every day. I even dropped by a book salon (读书沙龙) at the library the other day and came across a nice lady with a boy.”

“Sounds not bad,” he said. “Did you talk to her?” The answer was no. It wasn’t that people here were unkind. I just didn’t feel like initiating conversations, and I preferred minding my own business in a new environment.

A few more months passed and winter settled in. It was harder than ever to meet people. I began to feel bitter. I was tired of trying to fit in a place where we didn’t belong.

Lonny noticed my low spirits. “Amy, you look unapproachable, with your arms crossed and everything,” he whispered in my ear one afternoon. He and I were sitting in the yard. Samuel, our five-year-old was playing baseball next to us.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m not going to have friends here.” Just then Samuel looked up. He must’ve heard our whispers. “Mom’s right, Dad. We’ll never ever have friends here. And we just want to go back to our old home.” I sat there and looked at my tiny innocent son. His words mirrored my attitude. And I didn’t like the disturbing reflection.

That’s when I knew that I needed an adjustment.

One afternoon, Samuel and I ran into the lady with her boy again at the library.

I remember that I was worn out when I got home that afternoon. I'd had to be at the theatre for the audition (试演) at nine that morning, and then I'd been waiting around for about three hours before the director finally saw me. I performed my song and almost at once he told me I could go home. “I am very sorry,”he said,“but your voice isn't quite right for the part.”It had been a similar story at all the auditions that I'd done over the past few weeks.

It had been my dream for years to be in a famous musical like The Sound of Music or Mamma Mia, so I'd taken lessons in singing and dancing, and had come to the city to try and get a part in a show. I'd been really pleased when I'd managed to set up no fewer than ten auditions, but so far all of them had gone the same way. As I arrived back that afternoon at the little apartment where I rented a room, I really wondered whether I should bother going to the eleventh the next morning. It was a show I'd have loved to be in — but really, what was the point? Someone I knew had told me about a job at a local coffee shop, and had said that if I called in for a quick chat at ten the next day, I'd almost certainly get the job. It meant missing the audition, but right now, it seemed like a much more sensible thing to do.

I always sing when I need to cheer myself up, and because there was no one else in the apartment, I slipped off my shoes, went and stood in front of the mirror and started singing.Quite quickly I found myself belting out (大声唱) one of my favourite songs, Bridge over Troubled Water. As I finished the song, I suddenly heard applause. I looked around the room thinking that my roommate had perhaps slipped in without me noticing — but there was nobody. Then I went over to the open window of the apartment, and saw an elderly woman standing on the far side of the pavement below, looking up at me.

She reached her arms up towards me with a great smile on her face.

The next day I went to the eleventh audition.

Bobby, my brother, and I would spend our usual Saturday with Grandpa, cleaning his house. Mom would take us to his home in the early morning. Since childhood, Bobby and I   had been spending the day dusting, mopping and changing the sheets on his bed.

Grandpa grew up in a poor family. His dad died when he was a teenager. Then he had tol eave school, run the family farm and raise his brother and sister. He worked as a nightdoor keeper for a company within walking distance of his home, and the highlight of his week was the reward that he gave my brother and me for cleaning. And it was the moment when we felt the happiest.

This Saturday, after Bobby and I finished cleaning, Grandpa decided to invite us to dinner. When we finally arrived at his favorite restaurant, the waitresses greeted him as along-lost elder. Their smiles and waves followed us to our favorite table as we placed our orders. And then we laughed and ate. Grandpa praised how well we had cleaned his place, telling anyone who would like to listen about every task we had accomplished.

Regardless of who was serving us at the time, each of the other waitresses would come up to say “hi” to Grandpa and congratulate his grandkids on their work. It was a restaurant, but it was like our home. When dinner was over, the waitress would bring the check and hand it to Grandpa. This time, it was Gloria that bent close to him, and told him the amount of the check.

Grandpa carefully dug into the pocket of his trousers and brought out a worn coin purse. He carefully laid out the coins and paid the bill. Then he gave Gloria a tip, but it wasn’t enough. I was ashamed that he got the amount of the tip wrong, and we were embarrassed. I was about to say something when Gloria grabbed my hands. “Come and get some flowers, today’s gifts, Susie,” she said as she led me toward the counter.

“I want you to listen carefully, Susie,” Gloria said to me seriously.

I listened to Gloria and stared at those flowers, deep in thought.

I used to play football when I was a little kid. Okay, let’s face it. I was never really a little kid. I was so big that I got to play football a whole year ahead of my friends. Our football league didn’t have an age limit, but it had a weight requirement. If you were heavy enough, you got to play. I was heavy enough at the age of eight.

The only problem was, by the time I turned ten I was too heavy. You had to weigh a certain amount to start playing, but if you weighed too much they made you stop. Not playing would be just fine with me. I would be happier sitting at home reading a book.

Dad was one of the team’s big sponsors and friends of the coach, so I figured I would let him down and that quitting wasn’t an option. I went, day after day, and week after week... until I was eleven and weighed more than two hundred pounds. I thought that would be the end of it, once and for all.

However, my coach came up with a bright idea to help me lose weight. The very next practice he presented me with a T-shirt made out of a black garbage bag. “Put it on,” he said, pointing out the holes for my head and arms. “Start running around the practice field.” “Koop going, Fireplug (消防栓),” other players would shout. “Fireplug” was the new name they gave me. Although no one ever explained it to me, I figured it had something to do with me being shaped like it.

Every day in practice, I had to run in that stupid garbage bag. My short fat legs weren’t exactly comfortable, and often I’d trip and fall. The other players would laugh. At that moment, I asked myself, “Why? Was I being punished for something? Wasn’t the running, sweating and pain enough?” I suddenly realized that I’d been knocking myself out for something I didn’t even want to do in the first place!

It was then that I decided I wouldn’t play football anymore.

Much to my surprise, my dad was on my side.

The Pizza Encounter

As Mr. Anderson entered the cozy pizzeria, he couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement for the delicious pizza he was about to enjoy. Dressed in his best suit, he scanned the menu eagerly, his mouth already watering at the thought of the melted cheese. But as he made his way to the counter to place his order, his sense of excitement quickly turned to annoyance when he was rudely bumped into (偶然遇到) by a homeless man named Jack.

Mr. Anderson glared at the man, his eyebrows raised in a look of disgust.

"Watch where you're going! Do you know how expensive my suit is?" he snapped, carefully straightening his suit.

"Oh, I am really sorry," apologized Jack.

Mr. Anderson sniffed (哼了哼) in response, a look of superiority on his face. "Some people," he complained under his breath, as if to say that the homeless man was beneath him.

After ordering three slices of cheeses, Mr. Anderson sat down at a table, feeling annoyed. To his surprise, the homeless man followed and sat down across from him. Mr. Anderson's frown (皱眉) deepened.

When the pizza arrived, Mr. Anderson was about to take a bite, but the homeless man reached out and grabbed a slice. Mr. Anderson's eyes widened in disbelief (难以置信). He had never seen such rudeness.

“Great cheese, right?” said Jack.

Mr. Anderson shook his head. He reluctantly took a bite of his slice, while glaring at the homeless man. However, the man kept reaching for more slices, and Mr. Anderson grew increasingly angry. It went on like this until the last slice, which Jack simply took without asking and handed him half of it. Mr. Anderson exploded with anger, yelling at the homeless man loudly. Mr. Anderson slammed (砸) his fist on the table and continued to yell at Jack, demanding an explanation for his behavior.

Just then, the waiter approached Mr. Anderson with another plate of pizza.

“But why did you give the last slice to me?” asked Mr. Anderson, genuinely curious.

In a small community located at a suburb of Exeter, a disheartening issue had been troubling the neighborhood for years. The once pleasant surroundings were ruined by piles of waste that seemed to multiply with each passing day. Residents were growing tired of the worsening environment, leading many to abandon their homes in search of cleaner neighborhoods. It was in this terrible situation that two young students, Emma and Mia, decided to take matters into their own hands.

Emma and Mia were classmates and best friends from Phillips Exeter Academy, both passionate about environmental preservation and deeply concerned about the pollution crisis their community was facing. Witnessing more and more neighbors’ leaving, they knew they couldn’t stand by any longer. Determined to bring about a change, they undertook a mission that would soon catch the attention of the entire community.

Their journey began with thorough research and planning. The two girls searched carefully on the Internet for information on environmental initiatives and connected with local environmentalists. They organized meetings with residents to understand the issues at hand, collecting data on the types of waste, the sources, and the areas most affected. Armed with this knowledge, Emma and Mia worked out a comprehensive plan and announced it to ask for opinions from the residents. Surprisingly it was strongly supported.

Their strategy was twofold. First, they initiated a waste classification and recycling program. They distributed recycling bins(回收箱) to every household and educated the community about the importance of responsible waste management. Soon, the streets began to show signs of improvement as the volume of garbage inappropriately thrown away decreased gradually.

The second part of their plan was more ambitious. Emma and Mia gathered volunteers from their school and the neighborhood to take part in a massive clean-up campaign. Armed with gloves and trash(垃圾)bags, they began systematically clearing the waste from the streets, parks, and even the local bodies of water. Their firm commitment and hard work inspired others to join the cause.

Half a year later, the changes were significant.

Emma and Mia received recognition and honors for their work.