The cafeteria (自助食堂) conversation on Monday was all about hockey (冰上曲棍球) again. Jade usually fit in with the sports crowd, but now she was not included in the conversation.

“When will you get out on the ice, Jade?” Hazel asked. Jade was a soccer star at her old school in California. “I’m inviting her to play hockey.” Hazel told other players at the table.

Jade lowered her voice. “I can’t make it to open skating time because I have to look after my younger brother Calvin until 6:30.”

But Hazel had been friendly since their first meeting and she wasn’t going to give upon this. “A rink (溜冰场) is behind the stadium. I can practice with you thereafter the closing time. You can buy skates from Ms. Silva, the facility manager. 7 o’clock this evening at the rink!” Hazel told Jade excitedly.

However, Jade didn’t tell Hazel she couldn’t afford the skates and hockey stick. After school Jade hurried home to look after Calvin. When she was cleaning the crumbs (面包屑) under Calvin’s highchair with a broom, she got an idea. At 6:35, Jade grabbed the broom and an old tennis ball.

At the rink, Hazel hadn’t turned up yet. In her dirty shoes, Jade practiced hitting the ball with the broom independently. Surprisingly, she scored a goal. But her smile disappeared as she saw Ms. Silva walking over.

She looked down at Jade’s feet pitifully. “Your shoes made the rink dirty. Those aren’t skates and hockey stick.”

“I’m really sorry for the dirt,” Jade apologized. “I don’t have money for those.”

“You didn’t tell me that!” Hazel appeared, holding Jade’s hands.

“Want a weekend job?” Ms. Silva advised gently. “I’ll teach you how to remove the dirt and leaves. A month later you may get new skates!” “Definitely.” Jade replied. “I’ll be there with you!” Hazel said.

In the following month, Jade was a dutiful staff and practiced with Hazel in the rink every night.

3 . It was a familiar sight that the family gathered around the table telling stories during and after the meal. As part of our daily ___________, these conversations would become the most precious moments for my family.

The love of storytelling ___________ from our dad, whose life was exciting and unforgettable. He told us about his childhood, travels and reflections, all of which had become part of our ___________. Even though few of dad’s stories actually ___________ me, I felt as much part of them as I did. They brought me closer to my family in a way I couldn’t be more ___________ for. Even when I had to live away, sharing tales with my dad on the phone kept me ___________ during the breakdown in my life. He showed us the ___________ of quality time and of family which never ___________ to benefit us.

Telling stories has been irreplaceable. When ___________ a risk about potential failure, I just remember even a moment of ____________ could also be transformed into a funny story. When travelling with friends, I can turn my days into a fascinating ____________. I realize each moment in life can be a story worth ____________. It’s about experiences, memories and cultures that keep ____________ strong and life alive.

____________, the best stories never stop being told. As years pass, we’ll ____________ our families to the greatest hits.

There lived two brothers, John McNeil and James, in a village in Kentucky in the north of America, who had lost their parents in a terrible earthquake ten years before. Worse still, ten-year-old John McNeil suffered from serious autism. He often stayed at a corner without saying anything with others and frequently ran everywhere, so his brother James was concerned about his safety.

On a windy, cold day, John McNeil forgot to put on his shoes and ran out the door. He headed straight for the 125-foot electrical tower behind the McNeiI home and didn’t realize the dangers of the structure. That day his thoughts were set on climbing to the top of that tower, touching the sky. Maybe he thought he could meet his parents in the sky. What a poor boy!

His seventeen-year-old brother, James, was always close by. James always made sure that no danger came to his little brother. But today was different. Today, John ran out the door unnoticed. He was making his way to the sky step by step by the time James saw him. John, like most autistic children, had no idea about fear or danger. James, on the other hand, realized that he had to face his greatest fear of all — the fear of heights.

However, James understood the danger of the electrical tower but chose to follow his younger brother secretly, trying not to look down, all the way to the top. He finally reached his brother and held him with his right hand. With his left hand, he held a metal bar to help stabilize them both. What a thrilling scene!

James was shaking. _______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Hundreds of people came together at the base of the tower. ___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Silent friends in a life storm

My dad died unexpectedly a few months ago and I feel angry with some of my oldest friends, who have hardly contacted me since it happened.

Three months on, I’ve finally heard from some of them through text about other matters. I didn’t mention my sad stories, and they didn’t ask.

I understand that death is a frightening subject and that people might worry about saying the wrong thing. Yet I still feel a bit hurt by their lack of contact after my dad’s funeral (葬礼).

Now I don’t want to face them because I don’t want to make them feel guilty (内疚的). Normally they are extremely good friends who I love very much. I have other friends, so I can manage this without their support. I just want to let go of the anger so I can get through this sadness. Hope to receive your advice.

Yours,

Amy

I’m so sorry to hear about your dad’s death.

Your anger may come from being unable to ask for the help you need. You also seem worried about troubling your friends too much.

It is likely that your friends are very concerned about you. Perhaps their own fear of the subject is too big to comfort you and, just as you say, they are frightened of saying the wrong thing. Also, people often want to “fix” things, but no one can fix death, so they may feel powerless to help you. In these situations, you have to be brave to break the ice and tell them not only what you need, but also how to offer help.

If you really can’t ask your “silent” friends for help, maybe you could count more on those other friends. You might find some psychological (心理的) treatment useful as well. Talking to someone with professional knowledge who understands your situation can help you carry the burden of sadness.

Yours,

Annalisa

Yours,

Amy

8 . My grandma passed away last week. My mum began the painful yet necessary task of sorting through her belongings.

“Is there anything you want from grandma’s flat?” Mum texted me.

“Her aloe (芦荟), please.” I required zero thinking time.

Sometime around 1975, Grandma, always believing good things would happen in the future, received this plant as a gift, which she appreciated and placed in her doorway. It came from the local butcher. Five years later, my mum married the butcher’s son and had me. Grandma revealed to me this particular plant was a living relationship between the two families. And so was I.

Recently, whenever we visited Grandma’s flat, I attempted to fix this concept in my children’s minds. “That was a gift your great-grandma bought your other great-grandma! It’s older than me!” Then my kids would nod and ask Grandma for a sweet.

Numerous times, Grandma gave me cuttings or clippings of the plant, hoping I might raise my own and continue the legend. Yet, every time, my new branch died with my awful gardening skills. But that didn’t used to matter, because I could turn to Grandma, who would wait and accept my disturbance without becoming upset. Then I got another clipping and tried again. But now I can’t. So, I decided that the plant will go and live with Ann, my mother-in-law, who is a genius with a greenhouse.

The plan is for Ann to keep hold of the original plant. In time, she can teach me how to deal with its cuttings properly, and then maybe one day I can settle the plant in my place.

In the meantime, Ann will allocate (分配) clippings among my relatives, as Grandma used to do. My wife’s two sisters, for example, are both better at tending plants than I am, so it is quite imaginable they, too, will offer cuttings of the plant to their partners, spreading this loving plant across my entire extended family.