A GIFT FOR GRANDPA

Summer vacation was coming. Jack and his brother Berlin were filled with excitement as they thought of visiting their grandparents again.

The big day came at last. After the happy family got ready, they set out for the grandparents’ eagerly. On the way, the brothers were excitedly talking about the fun they had with grandparents.

A little blue house with a tall white chimney finally appeared. Behind the property was the forest carrying their good memories with Grandpa. They arrived at the driveway, at the end of which Grandma was waiting for them joyfully.

Jack and Berlin each gave Grandma a big hug and then swept to the living room, shouting excitedly “Grandpa, we are back!”

Seeing his grandsons, Grandpa was wild with joy and tried to get up with all his strength from the chair but in vain. A helpless expression flashed on his face. Grandma explained that his health was declining rapidly and maybe couldn’t stand up on his own forever. But Grandpa declared stubbornly (倔强地), “I can!” Certainly, he was stuck in his boyish way. Mum and grandparents were happy to meet again after a long time. They sat together and chatted about what happened recently.

The brothers were soon bored with adult conversation, went out and wandered into the forest. Tall trees stretched up to the heavens with large branches crossing each other, while young ones rose straight like soldiers. Grandpa was once a great explorer full of wisdom. He could tell where the birds came from only by their calls and songs. The trees, birds, lizards, lots of bugs...How many merry moments they spent with Grandpa in the kingdom!

But now Grandpa couldn't get up. This made them worried. “We’d think out a way to cheer him up.” Jack said. “Grandpa is a bird lover, and we can catch him a bird.” Berlin suggested. “But he hates birds being caged!” Jack shook his head.

Then a bright idea came to Jack’s mind. “Why not make a cane (拐杖) out of a young tree!”

Berlin thought it was a good idea.

Jack and Berlin handed the cane to Grandpa.

I like staying overnight at my Gramma’s house — that is, until Gramma starts telling me how wonderful my cousin Maya is. Then it’s Maya this and Maya that until I don’t ever want to hear another word about her.

That’s why I wasn’t too excited when Gramma called me on the phone to “come on over and bring your pajamas.” When I got there, it was worse than I’d expected. There, in Grandpa’s big leather rocker, sat Maya, all dressed up and formal-looking and wearing fancy shoes as if she’d just been to a party.

“Surprise, Kristen!” Gramma said. “Your cousin Maya and her parents have traveled in from the East Coast on business. Maya gets to stay with us this afternoon.” Gramma chattered away about how excited she’d been for this surprise get-together, and how cousins ought to get to know each other better.

I hung my baseball cap in the closet and set my backpack by the stairway, all the time smiling and nodding as if I’d been waiting forever for this chance to spend an afternoon with Maya. Grandpa’s chair squawked (咯咯叫) as Maya rocked back and forth. It’s the chair I like best in the house, the one I usually sit in. I sat down on the sofa across from her.

Shortly, Gramma went off to the kitchen to “see about some lunch,” she’d said. That left me stuck in the living room with rocking Maya.

She was still small but taller than I’d remembered her from her last visit four years ago. She was good at small talk, though, and was chatting away about how nice it was to see me again. But I could tell that she didn’t really think so. The last time she was here, we’d had hours of fun together building caves out of Gramma’s sofa pillows.

After that, I’d heard about her only through Gramma’s tales. Maya taking piano lessons. Maya learning math. Maya, Maya, Maya. Now Maya was here, looking great with the latest haircut and a fancy dress.

Glancing down at my jeans and my old sneakers, I wished I hadn’t come.

“How do you know all these things about me?” I asked.

As a young boy, I was carefree. Every vacation I looked forward to two things—seeing my grandpa and hearing his wonderful stories. My grandpa was a very good storyteller. He had worked various odd jobs when he was young and wove his adventures and misadventures into fantastic tales. These wonderful tales colored my childhood.

As I grew up, I had to admit that Grandpa’s stories went on a little long, even a little boring and gradually lost their magic. However, not wanting to upset him, my brother and I would sometimes take turns sitting in the living room, listening to grandpa tell his stories.

When my grandpa was approaching 91, he suffered from serious memory-loss. It was kind of what doctors called dementia (痴呆), probably the earliest stage of Alzheimer’s disease. Following the doctor’s directions, we moved him into a Sunrise Assisted Living Community, where he could get a better care. After that, grandpa hardly came to our house.

One weekend before my grandpa’s birthday, I came to visit him. Seeing grandpa sitting in his armchair, dull-looking, I was consumed with mixed feelings. I wheeled grandpa to the sunshine in the courtyard, talking to him. He couldn’t express himself clearly and spoke in short bursts, but I listened to him patiently and carefully just as I used to be a little boy.

It was then that I noticed a shadow box with some old and yellowish photos in it. I picked one up, in which my brother, several boys in our neighborhood, and I were playing basketball with grandpa cheering us on twenty years before. My mind flashed back to those beautiful memories. Back then, Grandpa was in good physical condition and we were all wearing basketball jerseys, playing and laughing with abandon. I presented the photo to my grandpa, pointing at each member and reminding him of their names. Incredibly, grandpa could speak out the name of every player. I even caught a soft light in grandpa’s eyes and a smile on his lips.

A bright idea for grandpa’s birthday came to my mind.

Seeing “the same players” playing there, grandpa seemed to have thought of something.

When I was seven years old, my family moved from Mexico to America. In Mexico, I was a cheerful girl who loved making people laugh with my jokes and inventing fun games to play with my friends. However, when I arrived in America, I found it hard to fit in, and I became quieter.

We lived in a small house with a modest yard where we grew vegetables—my responsibility. While I took pride in watching them grow, there were times when I dreamed of having a beautiful garden like my schoolmate Luella’s, with its delicate tulips (郁金香). Although Luella lived in the same neighborhood as me, we barely knew each other.

It was after a tornado that Luella and I finally became close friends.

The tornado struck on a Sunday afternoon.The gentle breeze transformed into a strong wind, and thick gray clouds filled the sky. Gradually, the tornado took shape, starting as a thin rope and growing into a large black funnel (漏斗). My entire family gathered in the bathroom, seeking shelter from the storm. Terrified, I sat close to my mom, knees in my chest. After the storm had passed, our worries and fears were replaced by relief that we were unharmed and that our house had remained undamaged.

As I stepped outside, I witnessed the extent of the damage the tornado had caused to our neighborhood. Across the street, a tall tree had fallen, crushing Luella’s garden in front of her yellow house. We hurried over to check on it. Fortunately, her family seemed to be away at the time, and no one was injured. However, her once-beautiful garden was in ruins, with the fallen tree destroying the tulips and debris (碎片) spread everywhere. I could only imagine how heartbroken they must feel seeing this.

Then my mom’s usual words rang in my ear, “It is more blessed to give than to receive,” and my family started to think about how we could help.

Just at that moment, Luella’s family returned in their car.

Even after the debris was cleared, I could still sense Luella’s sorrow for her lost garden.

9 . It was a week after my mom had passed away and I didn’t know how to go on with life. So when I received an email from a friend about a race benefiting cancer research, I ignored it. It seemed to prick my heart, as cancer was the disease that had taken my mother away from me.

But something about my friend’s words—“I can help organize the whole thing”—stuck with me. I felt obliged（有义务的）to agree. In the weeks to come, I managed to re-enter the world of the living. I checked our team’s website daily, feeling proud each time a donation ticked up our total. I knew my mom would have wanted it that way. She was the type who never got defeated. It was this very spirit that helped me get by.

When the race ended, I noticed the runners all had one thing in common: There were big smiles on their faces. They made it look so rewarding and effortless. I wanted in.

So I enrolled in another race two months later. Considering I could barely run a mile, it was ambitious. But my friend and I made a training plan so I wouldn’t come in last. I followed it religiously and didn’t let anything get in my way.

Running up and down the city’s hills, I was flooded with memories. I had lived there after college and my mother had visited often. I passed Bloomingdale’s, recalling the time she and I had gotten into a screaming argument there.

I was about to beat myself up when I remembered what Mom had said after her diagnosis of cancer. “I don’t want you to feel guilty about anything.” Her paper-thin hands had held me tightly. A weight lifted from my shoulders.

When the race day arrived, I gave it my all for my mom and for all she had taught me and continued to teach me. As I ran, whenever I felt like slowing down, I pictured her cheering me on.

On a Sunday afternoon, Kiana French was having fun fishing with her father and younger sister, not knowing the next minute, they would struggle not to sink in the freezing water. Their 12-foot boat was taking in water little by little, and the wind was picking up. Her father, Gary French, hurried to operate the engine, while Kiana,16, was in the middle with Cierrah, her sister, frightened but still able to keep calm.

Kiana asked Cierrah to take off one of her cowboy boots, with which she got some of the water out. Hard as she tried, that little effort would not help stop the boat sinking. Moments later, the unthinkable happened. The boat was full of water and then it flipped over. Kiana and her sister were dumped in the water. Their father, who had had a surgery six months ago, managed not to be thrown into the water but seemed to have great pain in the chest due to the sudden change.

Kiana quickly put on her life jacket and saw Cierrah’s and her father’s life jackets floating away. She reacted quickly to get them back and held her sister onto the boat. They were so far out in the middle of the lake that they could not see the shore clearly. What’s worse.it was getting harder to stay above the waves. Their father swam over and hugged his two girls. Cierrah crying silently. Kiana heard her beloved sister murmur, “I can’t feel my feet.”

Kiana knew the only thing to do was to get to shore herself and find help. She looked up at her father, exchanging a concerned glance, turned round and swam as hard as she could towards the shore

Fighting against the strong currents and cold wind, she screamed for help at the top of her lungs every three minutes or so. A strong wind blew, and she looked back only to see her sister’s and father’s heads bobbing(浮动)in the water. She burst into tears, thinking her sister and dad were dead, because she was taking too long.

With desperate tears, she suddenly spotted a boat with a figure walking on it

Once rescued, they were rushed to shore, where a concerned group waited for their arrival.