My neighbor Josie was a good cook and college professor. We have been good friends for many years. Each early morning, Josie would invite me to join her in walking and she would make breakfast for me as a reward!

Josie planted a lovely garden. Every flower and vegetable made its debut (首秀) once a year. There were so many kinds that I could not even recognize what was growing, and we had the freshest salads in the neighborhood all summer long!

Each evening, Josie and I would sit in front of the garden. We would have a chat, exchanging our world views as well as funny jokes. However, one evening, Josie was a “no-show”. Then I heard the ambulance and saw her husband and children running outside. Josie suffered a stroke (中风).

Later, when I set eyes on her, she was in a wheelchair, covered in a thick blanket. She looked smaller and older than before. But how she chose to face it made me surprised. During the days when Josie had some strength, her husband wheeled her into the living room, and they watched old movies together. She called it “date time”. And during the most special days when Josie was doing well, her husband took her for a walk outside in her wheelchair. She called it “going on vacation”. Despite the fact that Josie was not expected to make a full recovery, they continued to watch movies and took lots of mini-vacations.

She is grateful for listening to her grandchildren telling stories to her, smelling a summer barbecue, sharing a laugh with her favorite neighbor, and being here for another day. I am thankful for her simple life lesson: Find the positive, and you will find your reason to live.

I was 400 meters from the finish line when my legs stopped working during the State cross-country race. In a moment faster than I could imagine, I watched my dreams crash helplessly to the ground. Lifting my face from the dirt, I looked up and saw my dad’s face.

I was the fastest runner on my team, and I was supposed to make it into the top fifteen. We had been working towards this race for three years. It was everything to me, and it was everything to my dad. He was a runner and was proud of my success in running.

He made it to every race, even flying home early from business trips to see me run. He pushed me. He cheered for me. He believed in me. We pounded miles and miles into our running shoes, marking with every step the path to greatness. It was a dream passed on from one generation to the next.

I’ll never forget that day. It was hotter than normal — too hot, I waited for the gun to fire. This was the day we had waited so long for. I glanced at the crowd; dozens of familiar faces from school came into my view. They had come for me. I saw my dad set his watch, worry and excitement appeared on his face. Adrenaline (肾上腺素) flowed through my body, and the race began.

For the first 2.5 miles, I felt great. I’d never been so ready for something. Determination focused my mind and guided my steps. As in all of my races, I didn’t star out in the front. I loved the feeling of passing people as my endurance (耐力) overtook their premature speed.

Without warning, my strength began to disappear. My lungs fought to take in enough air, and my feet became stuck. I still don’t know what happened in those last few moments. Neck and neck with my greatest competitors, I could see the finish line, but nothing I could do would make my legs hold my weight. They were as weak as cotton.

We were in our late 20s with a child when my husband, Ralph, finally graduated from college.

“OK, now I deserve a piano,” I blurted out when he sat down for lunch just before the graduation ceremony. A look of surprise crossed his face.

“We could never afford a piano. After so many years of hard work, we got you through school. Now I deserve a piano,” I repeated.

Several months later, Ralph, with help, moved the upright piano we bought for $ 100 into our cottage’s tiny arched dining room. It smelled a little musty, but had great tone.

Ralph started graduate school, leaving no money for private piano lessons. The first thing that came to my mind was Santa Monica City College—maybe it offered piano lessons. Skimming the catalog, I danced around the room when I found a class at the same time the boys were at preschool.

Practicing, however, was not so easy. Four-year old redheaded Denny crawled out of bed in the evening on a regular basis. That was my time to practice. He’d pad out of the bedroom in his sleeper and climb up on the bench with me. Soon he began plinking (发出叮铃声) on the high keys. I tried to ignore him. He listened to the echoes of the keys and plinked some more. Doing all I could do to keep focused on my own practicing, I continued to ignore him.

This practice pattern became an evening routine. After a while, I didn’t even hear him anymore. Ralph studied. Denny plinked on the high keys, and I focused on my piece for the end-of-the-term recital (独奏会).

That evening came. However, Ralph said he was busy preparing for the midterms and couldn’t watch Denny.

Pacing back and forth, I shook my head trying to figure out what to do. Time was running out. I bundled up Denny—with his sleeper on—and drove off to the recital with him.

“We’ll sit in the front row, Denny,” I whispered. “You have to be very quiet and listen when I am playing.” He nodded, said “Uh-huh,” and we sat down.

Denny held my hand, but then my turn came.

A small body climbed onto the piano bench next to me.

When I found out that my new friend Karina did not share my opinions about some stuff, I was very upset. It was hard to imagine disagreeing with her about anything because when we first met, we got along so well. It was as if we’d known each other forever.

“No way!” I said, as I sat next to her on the first day of karate (空手道) camp. “Are those banana chips in your lunchbox?”

“You like banana chips?” she said in a surprised voice. “They’re my favorite snack.”

“My aunt brought some the last time she visited, and I’ve been craving (渴望) them ever since,” I said.

“I guess today’s your lucky day,” she said, handing me the bag. “We have a big box that’s kind of taking up space in the cupboard. So, you’d actually be helping me out!”

Right then is when I knew that Karina and I were meant to be friends forever. Whenever we got to pick a partner at camp, we picked each other. Whenever we had a break, we hung out together. The more time we spent together, the more we realized how amazingly alike we were. We both had two adorable cats, we both had an awesome younger sister, and we both had the same favorite song.

But then something happened. Karate camp was next to a piece of beautiful land that had a bunch of large old trees on it. Whenever it was nice out, we’d get to eat our lunch at picnic tables that were right by some of those trees.

After we finished lunch, our coach, Miguel, reminded us to keep the forest as clean and perfect as it was when we got here.

And that’s when things got complicated.

Sam, one of our teammates, asked us, “Have you guys heard that shopping mall rumor? They want to cut down a bunch of those trees to make room for a shopping center.” To my surprise, Karina said, “My parents told me the shopping center would make new jobs for people who really needed work and people’s jobs were more important than trees.”

I completely disagreed with Karina about cutting down trees.

Later, I suddenly realized Karina had her reasons for believing what she did.

Bruce had a sweet tooth during his childhood, but it was not just sugary snacks that he desired. Being raised in a poor family was a bittersweet experience, but it gave him adaptability and ambition.

When Bruce was young, his mother would tell him that the candies in the store’s checkout line belonged to the cashier. She said that because she could not afford a 50-cent chocolate bar. Nevertheless, he saw through her trick and made a promise that he would grow up to be wealthy enough to buy what his family needed.

Bruce’s father worked hard to make money outside, so he spent less time at home. Instead of focusing on their economic instability, Bruce’s mother selflessly pushed her children to strive for success so that they could lead a more comfortable life later. She worked for long hours every night and struggled to pay the minimum due on her bills. Still, she would find time to read with Bruce and his sister, Alice. Their mother taught them the value of perseverance, education, and moral fibre. Despite lack of their father’s company, they were loved and nurtured just as much.

However, not all of life’s milestones were easy. Some, like moving and being helpless, left Bruce with an endless bitter taste. He had to deal with many problems when they moved into Maryland, several states away from their roots in Georgia, to make a living. The first few months were great: baseball games, family trips to the mall, dinners, movies, etc. It felt like they were the perfect family. Then things changed. Baseball games were too expensive, and trips to the mall were replaced with days Bruce and Alice spent isolated in the study.

As the brother and sister grew up, money was even tighter. They spent many years living in a very poor family setting. Even so, their mother inspired them to keep trying and working academically. They even cooperated with each other and developed a computer system. Alice was joking about patenting it someday. But as the saying goes, “Good things never come easy”, and success requires setbacks.

One day, Bruce’s mother opened their study door and told them to pack.

They eventually settled in Texas, and Bruce and Alice continued their academic efforts.