It was a lovely summer morning, and all the world was bright and fresh, filled with pleasant smell of flowers and trees. How sweet!

Allen’s heart was overflowing with joy at the thought of his daughter, Jessie. “She is just as lovely and shining as the sunshine.” he said to himself.

As a father of a young daughter, Allen was always employed in making the ends meet and hardly could he spare time for his daughter. Today, he turned off the phone, setting aside a whole for the joy of parenthood in the park.

On arriving at the park, Jessie ran through the pathways, giggling for all the fun it was to run in such green grass. The deep-green tree leaves shone in the summer morning breeze and the birds and butterflies danced in the air as if saying: “Allen, you have a perfect daughter!” Allen chased after the little angel, heart filled with happiness.

Suddenly, Jessie discovered a vendor(小摊贩) selling apples. She turned around, using her puppy eyes and adorable face to beg her father to buy an apple. Allen didn’t bring a lot of money but it was enough to buy two apples. So he bought two apples for his daughter without any hesitation, thinking “she deserves everything I could afford.”

Jessie held an apple in each hand excitedly. And at the same time, Allen lowered himself, joking: “Would you like to share an apple with Daddy?” Out of Allen’s wildest expectation, hearing this, his daughter quickly took a bite from an apple before her father spoke anything more. Unbelievably, she then also bit the other apple. The father was speechless, frozen with sadness on the spot, not knowing what to do next. He wanted to know what mistakes he had made in raising children, making his dear daughter so greedy. His heart was filled with deep sorrow. “Maybe I just thought too much. My daughter is too young to understand sharing and giving.” Allen tried to comfort himself but with the smile disappearing from his face.

After several more bites, however, Jessie held an apple in one hand, saying “father, eat this one.”

Though with a guilty heart, his smile returned.

Grandma tried to straighten out her fingers. “Jessica, I think I am done knitting (编织),” she said. “My fingers just won’t do what I tell them any more.” I looked at Grandma’s hands, remembering that she had taught me how to knit gloves for my dolls since I was little and that her hands had been sure and strong whatever she had knitted. Grandma had always said that I was very good with her knitting needles and balls of yarn (纱线).

But this winter she could hardly bend her fingers. The doctor said Grandma had arthritis (关节炎), suggesting she should keep her hands warm. I made her cups of tea to hold and moved her chair closer to the fire. However, her fingers were still difficult to move.

I wasn’t used to seeing Grandma’s hands so still. In the morning, her hands were still in her lap. In the evening, her quiet hands even made her voice stay still. I tried to help her find her voice. “Grandma, tell me about when you were a little girl like before,” I begged, knowing she loved to tell interesting stories of her nine brothers and sisters and herself during their childhood. “That was so long ago, Jessica,” whispered Grandma. “I can barely remember.”

This winter there were no hats with matching gloves or soft sweaters knitted by Grandma. But I missed her voice more than those. What about her sister Olga giving their snowman a bath in hot water? What about her brother Peti cutting off her doll’s beautiful hair and then hiding it? Were those words still moving silently in her head?

After dinner, Grandma fell asleep in her rocking chair. Mom sorted through our knitting items, among which an old pair of gloves caught my attention. The gloves were Grandma’s favorite ones with the names of Grandma and her nine brothers and sisters on the fingertips. Each time she wore them, all her happy childhood memories would become very interesting stories in her mouth.

The gloves gave me an idea.

“Grandma, shall we knit a new pair of gloves?” I asked hopefully.

Like the Christmas before, we didn’t send Christmas cards; we called my family in Canada. Ginny and I talked to my mom. We spoke to my uncles and aunts. I hadn’t seen any of them in seven years and Ginny hadn’t met them yet, but she hoped to one day.

Those calls were completed, but I couldn’t relax. I still had one more call to make, and I was afraid. I paced up and down inside the room. I wasted time at my computer. I needed to call but I couldn’t.

Five years ago, I received an e-mail from my brother. At that time, I had been out of work for several months. My life was very stressful. My brother’s e-mail was nothing terrible but it made me angry.

I wrote back. As I typed, my anger grew. Months of frustration (沮丧) flowed into my unkind response. I said things that were not nice, but I sent the e-mail without hesitation. More thoughts occurred to me. I wrote a second e-mail.

I screamed abuse at my brother in the emails. I didn’t care if I ever heard from him again.

The next day I received another e-mail from him. I didn’t read it. I just deleted it, and then I blocked his e-mail address.

For five years, he tried to get through to me but I ignored him. I had lived with this terrible guilt. I thought about contacting him, but was ashamed of myself for what I’d said.

It was time to fix it. I picked up the phone and stepped outside. I wanted privacy. Ginny didn’t know I was calling my brother. I took a deep breath, blew out a cloud of my breath into the cold December air, and dialed (拨号) his number. Even after five years, I still knew it by heart. A phone rang 3,700 miles away in Nova Scotia.

There was no answer, so I left a voice message.

Then a week after I called, I received an e-mail.

Jessica and Cayla were two sisters, who loved each other very much. They were not only sisters, but they were best friends, too. They liked to eat, play, go to school and do everything together. Nothing could break them apart!

One day, there was a running race competition at school. Both Jessica and Cayla were very fast runners and they were sure they would win if they signed up for it. They were very excited to participate together. And there were other friends too, who were all going to run.

The judge blew the whistle… toooot!! Everyone started running. Jessica and Cayla were running as fast as they could. They were running so fast that they passed everyone in a very short time. The audience was cheering, “Look at the sisters. They are so fast, like lightening!” Hearing the cheers, they ran even faster. They barely looked at each other.

Suddenly Cayla hit a stone on the race track. She got hurt and fell down, with her leg bleeding. She called Jessica to stop and give her a hand. She groaned (呻吟) with pain. But Jessica wouldn’t stop or look. She guessed that Cayla just had a slight fall. She had only one thought on her mind. She had to win this race!

Jessica reached the finish line first. The judge announced, “You are the first, Jessica!” But, there was no applause from the crowd. Jessica was surprised. She had won but no one was clapping for her. She turned back to see if her sister Cayla was close behind her. But she was not there! Jessica was worried that something bad had happened.

Jessica started running back. Soon she reached the spot where Cayla was lying injured. Jessica felt awful. She was not there for her sister when she needed her the most.

Feeling guilty for her behavior, Jessica sat down to check Cayla’s injury.

When both the sisters reached the finish line, they hugged.

Younger cried. Her mum was to provide medical treatment in Pakistan for a whole year. She couldn’t imagine how she would get by without her mother’s company. Mum cooked her dinner every night, and Mum took good care of her. Mum was her best friend. They talked together, they spent their leisure time together, and except for school and work, they were never apart. So Younger was unhappy about her mother’s leaving without even asking for her input.

“Why now? I will have college entrance exam this year!” Younger complained. Her face fell. Mum smelled a tense atmosphere hovering in the air. She carefully picked each explanatory word. But Younger had built a wall between them. Only several words like POOR, DISABILITIES, RESPONSIBILITY, SAVE…were lucky enough to float over it and into her ears. Feeling heartbroken and abandoned, she stormed into her room, banging the door shut. She threw herself onto the bed and cried like a baby. Mum knocked and knocked. But Younger just wanted to be left alone.

Younger overestimated her ability to stop Mum, to whom Pakistan was a magnet(磁铁). Two days later, Mum left for Pakistan. It seemed they went their separate ways. Younger cried a lot. Her eyes were always red, so red that her head teacher suggested she should not stay up too late attacking math problems. Her classmates also offered their ways of studying math. Only her father knew the secret.

Mum called her after settling in Pakistan for one week. The voice instantly brought a sparkle into Younger’s eyes. They excitedly filled each other in on what happened recently. Mum giggled when she heard the story of Younger’s red eyes. And the daughter found her mother was speaking English with a Pakistani accent.

Time wore on quickly and it was October when students had a short holiday. Younger couldn’t wait to visit her Mum. Dad booked air tickets. After some preparations, they boarded the plane bound for Pakistan.

After arrival, Younger was told her mother was out for a medical task.

Back at school, she was determined to study harder and follow Mum’s lead.

A Mother’s Heartfelt Note of Love

Everything seemed to have changed for me when I entered high school. I never saw a single person I knew from middle school. At home I was just as lonely. “My brothers and sister all fit in.” I thought, coming in the door after another bad day at school. “Why can’t I?”

Mom was there waiting for me. “Karole, your bedroom’s a disaster. Why can’t you keep it clean?” The last thing I needed was criticism from my mother. What had happened to the mother who used to snuggle (依偎) with me on the sofa, loving me with complete acceptance? Who thought everything I did was wonderful? I didn’t bother trying to explain my unhappiness. It was easier to hide in my bedroom, without saying a word, like I did every afternoon.

Clearing off some space, I sat down at my desk. Yet another thing I wasn’t good at anymore. My grades had slipped along with my confidence. I turned to a new page in my notebook and started working out the first problem. Almost immediately, I saw I’d made a mistake. “Wrong again!” I thought. “You can’t do anything right!” I tore the paper out of my notebook, balled it up in my fist and threw it at the wastepaper basket. The ball landed on the floor. I heard my mother’s voice in my head, “Why can’t you keep your room clean?”

By the time I finished my homework, the floor was littered with crumpled (弄皱的) paper. It gave me a kind of satisfaction to see the mess I’d made. Like it was proof of all my shortcomings. Every time I looked at those crumpled balls, I reminded myself what a failure I was. But my unhappiness stayed hidden away, just like those mistakes. With my face a mask of indifference, no one knew what I was really feeling. Who would want to listen?

One day, I came home to an empty house. It was a relief not to be met with Mom’s latest complaint. “Nothing I do is right in her eyes.” I thought. “Or anyone else’s, including mine.”

When I opened my bedroom door, I froze at the sight of a neat and orderly room.

I sat down at my desk, staring at those words.