4 . Lena could clearly remember the night she had to flee her home in Hungary. It was the beginning of the Second World War and her family needed to escape fast. She quickly packed a suitcase with a few pieces of clothing, her diary, and her most prized possession — a beautiful silk scarf. Lena and her best friend, Monika, had persuaded their parents to buy them matching scarves, which they each wore tied around their neck as a symbol of their friendship. Lena had no idea that when she left for America that night, she would never return. Her family settled on the sunny west coast in California.

Lena kept that special silk scarf for many years. One day she decided to give it to her granddaughter, Eliza, to wear to her first job interview for good luck. Lena was afraid that Eliza would lose the scarf, but her granddaughter reassured her, “Don’t worry, Grandma, nothing’s going to happen to your scarf. You’ll see. It is going to bring both of us luck today.” With that, Eliza kissed her grandmother on the cheek and left.

That afternoon, Eliza left the interview feeling confident that she had got the job. She decided to celebrate by going to a restaurant. As she sat at her table, she felt someone staring at her. Sitting next to her was an elderly woman who could not take her eyes off her. “I’m sorry. Do I know you?” Eliza asked.

“I’m sorry, dear, but you remind me of someone I once knew,” the old woman replied in an accented voice. “My best friend looked like you and used to wear a scarf just like the one you’re wearing around your neck.” Eliza felt goose bumps go up her arms. She had heard stories of her grandmother’s best friend and knew the significance of the scarf. Could this be Monika, her grandmother’s childhood friend?

Eliza introduced herself and waited to hear the name of the other woman. “My name is Monika, dear. I’m originally from Hungary, but my family had to leave when I was 14 and I’ve been living here in California ever since.” Eliza could not believe it. She said, “Monika, would you mind going somewhere with me? I want to show you someone very special.” The elderly woman agreed and they left the restaurant together.

They walked the short distance to Lena’s home and rang the doorbell. When Lena opened the door, she was amazed to see her childhood friend standing in front of her. The scarf had indeed brought good luck.

7 . America was where all my mother’s hopes lay. My mother believed one could be anything he wanted to be in America. “You can be a prodigy (神童), too,” my mother told me when I was nine. “You can be best at anything.” We didn’t immediately pick the right kind of prodigy. At first my mother thought I could be a Chinese Shirley Temple. We’d watch Shirley’s old movies on TV as though they were training films. My mother would poke my arm and say, “Ni kan”—You watch.

Soon after my mother got this idea about Shirley Temple, she took me to a beauty training school and put me in the hands of a student who could barely hold the scissors without shaking. Instead of getting big fat curls, I emerged with an uneven mass of crinkly black fuzz.

In fact, in the beginning, I was just as excited as my mother, maybe even more so. I pictured this prodigy part of me as many different images, trying each one on for size. I was a dainty ballerina girl standing by the curtains, waiting to hear the right music that would send me floating on my tiptoes. I was Cinderella stepping from her pumpkin carriage with sparkly cartoon music filling the air.

In all of my imaginings, I was filled with a sense that I would soon become perfect. My mother and father would adore me. I would be beyond reproach (责备). I would never be annoyed by anything. Every night after dinner, my mother and I would sit at the Formica kitchen table. She would present new tests, taking her examples from stories of amazing children she had read and a dozen other magazines she kept in a pile in our bathroom. My mother got these magazines from people whose houses she cleaned. She would look through them all, searching for stories about remarkable children.

The first night she brought out a story about a three-year-old boy who knew the capitals of all the states and even most of the European countries. A teacher was quoted as saying the little boy could also pronounce the names of the foreign cities correctly.

“What’s the capital of Finland?” my mother asked me, looking at the magazine story.

All I knew was the capital of California, because Sacramento was the name of the street we lived on in Chinatown. “Nairobi!” I guessed, saying the most foreign word I could think of. She checked to see if that was possibly one way to pronounce “Helsinki” before showing me the answer.

The tests got harder — multiplying numbers in my head, finding the queen of hearts in a deck of cards, trying to stand on my head without using my hands, predicting the daily temperatures in Los Angeles, New York, and London.

And after seeing my mother’s disappointed face once again, something inside of me began to die. I hated the tests, the raised hopes and failed expectations. Before going to bed that night, I looked in the mirror and when I saw only my face staring back — and that it would always be this ordinary face — I began to cry. Such a sad, ugly girl! I made high-pitched (尖锐的) noises like a crazed animal, trying to scratch out the face in the mirror.

And then I saw what seemed to be the prodigy side of me — because I had never seen that face before. I looked at my reflection, blinking so I could see more clearly. The girl staring back at me was angry, powerful. This girl and I were the same. I had new thoughts, willful thoughts, or rather thoughts filled with lots of won’ts. I won’t let her change me, I promised myself. I won’t be what I’m not.

10 . A few years ago，I spared a couple of hours from busy academic learning to work in a video store on a daily basis. An elderly woman walked into the store with a younger woman who I ________ was her daughter. The daughter was displaying a serious case of ________ checking her watch every few seconds. The older woman began to ________ the DVDs on the nearest shelf. After ________ hesitation, I walked over and asked if I could help. The woman smiled and showed me a title on a crumpled (皱巴巴的) piece of paper. Obviously a person looking for it knew a little about ________.

Rather than rushing off to ________ the DVD for the woman, I asked her to walk with me so I could show her where she could find it. Something about her deliberate movements ________ me of my own mother, who had passed away the previous Christmas. The woman seemed ________ for the unrushed company and casual conversation. We found the movie, and I ________ her to the queue at the cash register. When the older woman was paying in cash, I walked over to the younger, who was still tapping her foot at the front of the store.

“Is that your mom?” She rolled her eyes and said, “Yeah.” There was ________ in her reply, half sigh and half complaint. Still watching the mother, I said, “________ some advice?” “Sure,”said the daughter. I smiled to show her I wasn’t ________. I answered her ________ expression by saying, “When she’s gone, it’s the little ________ that’ll come back to you. Moments like this. I know.” Silent for a moment, the daughter placed her arm with ________ unaccustomed affection around her mother’s shoulders, gently guiding her out of the store.