Thanks for listening.

2 . Family time is one of the most important times in a child’s life. My family and I spend a lot of time together, including having dinner together every night.    1    Even when my father is away on business, my mother, my sister and I talk and have fun together. As a teenager, spending time with my parents is not the most fun thing I do but I feel it is necessary. I learn from them every time we talk, whether it is about my dad’s job or my mother’s days.

    2    Data show that only half of families sit down for dinner together every night. That’s a shame because researchers claim that kids who have these regular family dinners tend to have a sense of belonging and safety.    3    And they are also more likely to have better grades and a larger vocabulary.

There have been many recent studies showing kids are “wilder” than they used to be.    4     Some think less attention from parents might be one of them. If parents spend more time with their children, they will keep their kids away from television, video games and “wild” ideas,

I have noticed in old TV shows and my parents’ stories that not long ago sitting at the family dinner table was not a choice, but a must.    5    It is probably because parents and children are under more pressure from work and study. Although we all lead busy lives and are always running around trying to finish homework or play sports, we should all spend 20 minutes each day to eat dinner together.

Andy, a 15-year-old boy, and his mother Emily didn’t have much in life, living daily with just enough to eat three meals and pay the bills. Without his mother knowing, Andy had been saving up his pocket money for months to buy her a birthday present. He had collected a total of $25.

As a cleaner at a nearby park, Emily never took a bus, choosing to walk to and from work to save money. One day, Andy noticed that her mother came home wet to the skin. She told him her umbrella broke because of the strong wind and she wanted to get home in time to have dinner with him.

The following day, his mother woke up with a fever. “Mom, I’m sure you have to stay in bed today” Andy told her. “I’ll look after you. Here is your medicine,” he said, handing her a glass of water. Then, Andy left the house and walked towards the nearby supermarket to buy vegetables with which to cook some so up for his mother.

It occurred to him that his mother’s birthday was in a couple of days, so he decided to get his mother an umbrella first and spend the rest of his money on food.

“What is your strongest umbrella here, sir?” he asked the shop assistant. “I am looking for one that won’t break easily.” The man showed Andy a variety of umbrellas. Andy believed the purple one would be the best choice, his mother’s favorite color. It was $22. Andy almost jumped with joy! The boy was happy that he managed to lend his mom a hand by finding her something she really needed. Also, he even had some money to spare!

Stepping out of the shop with the gift and vegetables in his shopping bag, Andy realized it was starting to rain. He was running to a nearby bus stop to seek shelter with other people when he noticed an old lady walking slowly and struggling for a balance. It was pouring down. Without hesitation, he took the umbrella out of his bag and ran over.

The old lady looked up and realized an umbrella was sheltering her from the rain.

Anxious about his sick mom, Andy rushed home, all over wet.

5 . When Schauna Austin was 20 years old, she lost her husband in a car crash. Unable to raise a baby alone, she made a difficult decision during pregnancy — to place her baby for adoption. She gave birth to a child she named Riley, and held him for 72 hours straight. “It was perfect,” Austin said, holding her new baby. “I knew I would have him for a short time, so I made every minute count. I didn’t sleep for three days until the time came to let him go.”

Her Riley became another family’s Steven. Like most closed adoptions, a firewall went up between Austin and Steven’s new parents — no communication whatsoever. But that only lasted about a week. Adoptive mother Jennifer Schoebinger and her husband, Chris Schoebinger, said they had no interest in excluding the birth mother. “You know, you can’t have too many people loving you, right? Why couldn’t he be both of ours?” Chris Schoebinger said.

So, year after year, they sent Austin piles of pictures and bound books detailing Steven’s every major and minor milestones. The Schoebingers said they did this so that when Austin and their son were ready, they could pick up right where they left off. The two reunited when Steven was 7 years old. Austin taught him how to fish, and they have kept in contact ever since. Austin felt blessed beyond words, and Steven felt he got the best of both worlds.

Steven is now 26, married, and with a baby boy of his own. Much to the delight of Austin, he named the child Riley. “I think the lesson we learned is that sometimes we create barriers where barriers don’t need to be. And when we pull down those barriers, we really find love on the other side,” Chris Schorbinger said.

That love on the other side has continued to grow. The families spend Thanksgiving as one, and will of course be getting together again in the days ahead.

6 . My daughter is out of the ordinary. Three years ago, halfway through college, my 22-year-old daughter dropped out and became a farmer in Vermont. Next stop was California, where she raised goats. Now she is in Costa Rica, where she manages a wellness retreat center. But I’ve learned to let go and accepted that her choices are not mine.

As I saw how my daughter had chosen to live her life, I thought hard about my own, especially the part about jumping off the set path. Over time my job had become less fulfilling. As I looked at what I wanted to accomplish in the last years of my working life, this wasn’t it. So I prepared carefully and left my job.

To celebrate my new freedom, my daughter and I had decided to meet in Arizona the week after my job ended. We went to the Shaman’s Cave. At the top of it, the road became narrow. I stepped on to the path behind my daughter and looked down at the canyon floor. I walked backward, my heart beating fast. Sitting down hard on a rock, I started to cry, the fear becoming more serious.

My daughter sat beside me, soothed me and promised not to leave my side. She sang quietly encouraging me to breathe deeply. Then, after sitting quietly for a while, I took my courage and followed her.

I know that my cry that day was less about the drop of the mountain and more about the drop I’d just made in my life. Leaving my job hit me at some point. Luckily, my daughter was there. From that day on, I saw my daughter in a new way. I began to learn to appreciate her.

7 . When I was little, I often helped my mother plant our family’s garden. In April, I would kneel by Mum’s side for hours, carefully digging holes and ______ seeds into the earth.

When I grew up, I was unwilling to do any planting. ______, my mother never said much about my decision until two years ago. I was leaving home when Mum ______ me.

“Would you please help me with the planting today?” she asked, I mumbled (咕哝) something along the ______ of, “Uh, maybe … I’ll see. By the time I left the house, Mum was already in the garden. She ______ for a moment as I walked past, and from the corner of my eye I saw a certain ______ in her stare. A few hours later, I decided to head back home to help her and felt very _____   for my selfless decision. But I was too late.

I ______ little about that day until nearly a year later, Mum unexpectedly ______ her friend Sara to cancer. She went to see how the two children were ______ the sudden loss. There Mum learned the answer. “Mummy made me my own garden,” Rachel said ______, leading her outdoors to see the masterpiece. Sara had decided to plant her children something that would ______ long after she was gone.

As I listened to my mother tearfully tell Sara’s story, I realized the true ______ of a garden. Our annual planting was about kneeling together, planting potential life and creating the best ______ together.

I won’t ever ______ the planting day again.

9 . As a child I was one of the 125 people at our family gathering for New Year. These days we were a much smaller group in Belle Valley, Ohio. I insisted (坚持要求的) on acting as hostess and wanted to bring back the joy I’d felt at my childhood New Year that filled with love.

As family members arrived at the hall, I handed each one of them a numbered card and said, “Time for the alphabet game.” “What kind of game is that?” one of my great-grandchildren asked. “well,” I said, “who’s got number one?” A cousin raised her hand. “Tell us something you never forget,” I said. “Something that begins with the letter A.” My cousin smiled. “Apple pie!” she said. Great-granddaughter Mindy was next. “B,” she said. “I am impressed by Buckeye Country.” “Cookies!” Number 3 shouted.

Until Number 17, “The next one’s a challenge,” I said. “Who’s got 17?” Ryan, my son, slowly raised his hand. “Q,” he said. “Quaker City Carnival (嘉年华).” The room went silent.

“It’s one of the oldest traditions in Ohio,” Ryan said. “Grandma and Grandpa met there. That’s where they fell in love. That’s where this whole thing started. This whole family.” Ryan looked around the room, making eye contact with everyone. “We wouldn’t be here celebrating New Year together if it wasn’t for Quaker City Carnival.”

The room burst into laughter and was full of the love that had kept us connected to our Ohio traditions. “This is the best New Year we’ve ever had,” a great-grandson said to me secretly. Whatever their New Year would look like when they grew up, they’d remember this one. And for me, I had an unforgettable New Year to treasure   — a memory where love started with the letter Q.