Yours,

Li Hua

3 . My son turned 14 and didn’t have a smartphone. He was the only kid in his class without one. When he asked for a phone, I _________.

“You can choose to do things _________ when you’re a parent.” I replied. But sometimes, I wondered if I was being too stubborn (固执的) or unfair.

The more I research, the more confident I feel in my _________. Many studies _________ the current mental health crisis among teenagers to changes in how they socialize, namely, the change from in-person to online _________.

But other parents _________ my view, saying “He must feel so left out!” Then there are the parents who tell me with sadness that they regretted not delaying their teenager’s phone _________ longer than they did. They _________ me to hold out.

If teenagers are truly spending about 5 hours on average per day on their devices, as a recent research states, then what are they not doing? Kids _________ in their devices are missing out on real life, which strikes me a lot.

I want my son to have a __________ childhood, one full of adventures, imaginative play and physical challenges. The simplest way to achieve these __________ is to delay giving him a smartphone.

Some think my son is missing out or falling behind, but he is not. He does well in school, __________ with friends, and moves independently around our town. He claimed he would give his own 14-year-old boy a phone someday, and I told him that’s __________. But recently, he admitted he __________ the beautiful scenery on a drive to a mountain because he had been so absorbed in his iPad.

If that is his __________ of admitting I’m right, I’ll take it.

5 . There was once a boy called Mario who loved to have lots of friends at school. However, he wasn’t sure whether or not his schoolmates were his real friends, so he asked his grandpa for help. The old man told him, “I just have what you exactly need, and it’s in the attic (阁楼). Wait here a minute.” Grandpa left, soon returning as though carrying something in his hand, but Mario could see nothing there. “Take it. It’s a very special chair. It’s rather tricky to sit on because it’s invisible (无形的), but if you take it to school and you try to sit on it. you’ll be able to tell who your real friends are.” Grandpa said.

Mario was curious to know whether it was true or not, so he took the strange invisible chair and set off for school. At break time he asked everyone to form a circle, and he put himself in the middle, with his chair. “Nobody move! You’re about to see something amazing.”

Then Mario tried to sit on the chair. But he missed and fell down onto his back. Everyone had a pretty good laugh. Mario wouldn’t be beaten. He kept trying to sit on the magic chair, and kept falling to the ground…until, suddenly, he tried again and didn’t fall. This time he sat, hovering (悬浮) in mid-air…

Looking around, Mario saw George, Lucas and Diana—three of his best friends, holding him up, so he wouldn’t fall down. Meanwhile, many others he had thought of as friends had done nothing but make fun of him, enjoying his every fall.

Leaving with his three friends, he explained to them how his grandfather had so cleverly thought of a way to show him that true friends are those who care for us, and not just any acquaintance (熟人) who happens to be passing by. Even less would a friend be someone who takes joy in our misfortunes.

6 . One summer night in a seaside cottage, a boy felt himself lifted from bed. Then, with the swiftness of a dream, he was held in his father’s arms out onto the nearby beach. Overhead the sky blazed with stars. “Watch!” Incredibly, as his father spoke, one of the stars moved. In a line of golden fire it flashed across the astonished heavens. And before the wonder of this could fade, another star leaped from its place, then another, plunging towards the restless sea.

“What’s this?” the child whispered.

“Shooting stars. They come every year on a certain August night. I thought you’d like to see the show.”

That was all: just an unexpected glimpse of something mysterious and beautiful. But, back in bed, the child stared for a long time into the dark, knowing that all around the quiet house, the night was full of the silent music of the falling stars.

Decades have passed, but I remember that night still, because I was the fortunate boy whose father believed that a new experience was more important for a small boy than an unbroken night’s sleep. No doubt I had all the usual childhood entertainment, but those are forgotten now. What I remember is the night of the shooting stars, and the day we rode in a caboose (列车末尾的职工车厢), the telegraph we made that really worked, and the “trophy table” in the dining room where we children were encouraged to exhibit things we had found — anything unusual or beautiful — snake skins, seashells, flowers, arrowheads... I remember the thought-provoking (引人深思的) books left by my bedside that pushed back my horizons and sometimes actually changed my life.

My father had, to a marvellous degree, the gift of opening doors for his children, of leading them into areas of splendid newness. This subtle art of adding dimensions to a child’s world doesn’t necessarily require a great deal of time. It simply involves doing things more often with our children instead of for them or to them.

Sam’s birthday was approaching, and the excitement that usually filled his heart was now replaced with disappointment and stress. Turning eleven was a big deal, and he had always celebrated it with a grand party surrounded by his friends. However, this year was different. The burden of excessive homework and his parents’ struggling business weighed heavily on him, forcing Sam to make the difficult decision of not having a birthday party, even though it was an event he enjoyed dearly every year.

One day, during break, his best friend, Jim, with a curious look in his eyes, approached. “Are you going to have a birthday party this year?” Jim asked, sensing Sam’s sadness.

“No,” Sam sighed and replied sadly, “There’s just too much going on and my parents are going through financial difficulties.”

He smiled weakly, trying to conceal his immense disappointment and stress, but Jim saw through his pretence (假装) easily. Jim nodded thoughtfully and did not say anything. After the break, Sam saw his talking to one of their classmates, Sarah, secretively. Curious, Sam went over to them, but as soon as Jim saw him, he quickly walked away. Sam was startled by Jim’s strange actions and turned towards Sarah.

“What did he say?” Sam asked.

However, Sarah simply shrugged and walked away with Jim, leaving Sam standing there. feeling left out and anxious.

What is happening? San wondered anxiously. Are they keeping something from me?

As Sam’s birthday drew nearer, Jim was often found chatting softly with his other classmates. Whenever Sam went over to them, they would just walk away or tell him that they were talking about a secret which Sam was not allowed to know. Jim has never kept secrets from me before, Sam thought. His heart fell. Even his friends were distancing themselves from him! He swung between confusion and sadness with each passing moment, desperately trying to figure out what was happening. Why were his friends distancing themselves from him? And what were they hiding?

On the day of Sam’s birthday, he went to school and found his classroom in total darkness.

Tears sprang from Sam’s eyes and his face broke into a radiant smile.

10 . On March 25,2010, Kate and David Ogg heard the words every parent fears: Their newborn wasn’t going to make it. Their twins—a girl and a boy—were born two minutes apart and 14 weeks premature, weighing just over two pounds each. Doctors had tried to save the boy for 20 minutes but saw no improvement. His heartbeat was nearly gone, and he’d stopped breathing. The baby had just moments to live.

“I saw him gasp, but the doctor said it was no use,” Kate told the Daily Mail five years later. “I know it sounds stupid, but if he was still gasping, that was a sign of life. I wasn’t going to give up easily.”

Still, the Sydney couple knew this was likely goodbye. In an effort to cherish her last minutes with the tiny boy, Kate asked to hold him.

“I wanted to meet him, and for him to know us,” Kate told Today. “We’d resigned ourselves to the fact that we were going to lose him, and we were just trying to make the most of those last, precious moments.”

Kate unwrapped the boy, whom the couple had already named Jamie, from his hospital blanket and ordered David to take his shirt off and join them in bed. The first-time parents wanted their son to be as warm as possible and hoped the skin-to-skin contact would improve his condition. They also talked to him.

“We were trying to persuade him to stay,” Kate told the Daily Mail. “We explained his name and that he had a twin that he had to look out for and how hard we had tried to have him.”

Then something miraculous happened. Jamie gasped again—and then he started breathing. Finally, he reached for his father’s finger.

The couple’s lost boy had made it.

“We’re the luckiest people in the world,” David told Today. Eight years later, Jamie and his sister, Emily, are happy and healthy. The Oggs only recently told the kids the story of their birth. “Emily burst into tears,” Kate said. “She was really upset, and she kept hugging Jamie. This whole experience makes you cherish them more.”