When coming to this city for high school, I moved into the new house with my parents. We were very grateful to the owner for renting us this house at a cheap price. The house was really comfortable to live in. It was warm inside and full of life outside.

A tree in the front yard attracted my attention, and all I could confirm was that it was a fruit tree. My father thought it was a fig(无花果) tree, and sure enough, as the months went by, the tree grew huge leaves and finally bore the fruit—figs, the size of my fist. How wonderful they were! I took many pictures of the fig tree. And then we wondered how to deal with the figs. My mother thought for a while and said, “Why not try making fig jam?” I responded quickly, “That’s a good idea!”

Jack, one of our neighbors, just visited us and asked if he could pick some figs from our tree. Certainly, we encouraged him to take as many as he liked. In fact, Jack was extremely polite and friendly to us. He introduced himself at the first sight of us. He always waved to me as he came home or as he left for work.

When I picked the figs with him, he told me about how he had been living in the house next door for close to twenty years. He said, “Bruce, the owner of the house you live in now, used to be my best friend. And we had planted this very fig tree a few years before he went to the nursing home.” I was amazed to know that we actually enjoyed the fruit of his work. He told me that he was so impressed by the quality of the fruit this year. I found a fruit box for him to put the figs in. Both of us enjoyed the pleasure of sharing.

When Jack set out for his home, I turned to my parents and advised doing something in return for Jack and Bruce’s kindness and friendliness.

Finally, we decided to invite Jack and his family to dinner that night.

The next day, our family and Jack visited Bruce in the nursing home.

Everyone has their own strengths and weaknesses! Turning our weaknesses into strengths makes us unbeatable. This is an inspiring story of a 12-year-old boy Kim who defeated his weakness, by unknowingly making it his strength.

Poor Kim lost his left hand in a terrible accident. His parents could not comfort him. To cheer him up, his father made him join a Judo(柔道) school. As the boy always wanted to learn Judo, his father thought that this would make him happy.

Everyone wondered how a single armed boy could learn Judo. However, the master happily accepted him. He trained in Judo for about 8 months. He practiced nothing but a single stroke(击) . He trained for all 8 months in mastering a single stroke. The boy was surprised and sometimes annoyed as his master taught him only one stroke.

Yet, he said nothing. The boy mastered the stroke and grew as nobody could excel(胜过) in doing that particular stroke. The boy was picked by the master to compete in the national level Judo championship tournament(比赛).

Everyone made fun of Kim and the master. How a one-handed boy could win a national championship? Even the boy was not sure about why his master chose him.

Surprisingly, Kim easily defeated his six contenders(竞争者) with his single stroke. He gradually moved to semi-finals. He struggled a bit in the semi-finals and won again.

Needless to say, it surprised everyone and the final match began.

Kim asked his master how he won the championship with just a single stroke.

When I was in high school, there was nothing I loved more than going bowling—and no place I’d rather be than Al’s Kingpin Lanes. That place was great: Friday 5-dollar foot-long hot dogs with all the toppings, old arcade (拱廊)cabinets in the back that had classics like Galaga, and always playing 1940s jazz and 1950s rockabilly music. I got so obsessed with bowling that I even managed to convince my high school to start a varsity (校队)and junior varsity bowling sports club.

During my high school years, from freshman to junior year, starting and leading my school’s bowling club really helped me to come out of my shell. As time went on, our varsity team began winning local and even state tournaments. Soon enough, our school was getting bowling trophies(奖杯)to go alongside the trophies for more traditional sports like swimming and track and field. These victories not only boosted my popularity but also allowed me to form meaningful connections along the way! Life was great back then.

Still, the bowling memory that really stuck out to me was when I met Leroy. Although Leroy happened to go to the same high school as I did, we didn’t really cross paths that much. I was already a junior by then, and as I found out later, he was still a young freshman. The strange thing about it, though, was how he would always hang out in the back, nervously watching everyone else play. Despite his regular presence, he seemed too nervous and shy to play or even talk with others.

Then, one evening while I was out with my friends at Kingpin Lanes, something remarkable happened. I witnessed Leroy actually picking up a bowling ball for the first time. His shoes were untied, he struggled to lift even the lightest ball up, and with each throw, the ball ended up in the gutter lane(边沟), resulting in straight zeroes across the board.

That’s when I finally made my way over to say hi to Leroy.

And that was the beginning of our friendship.

Marty Fielding began to suffer from a muscle disease when he was 10, that sometimes made him clumsy and drop things or bump into furniture. The doctors don’t know exact what is wrong with him, so they don’t know how to make him better. But he has to learn adapt to his disability. When some people cannot accept him for who he is, he doesn’t get annoying. He just ignores them. All in to all, he has a good life. He doesn’t have time to sit around feeling sorry to himself. In many way his disability has helped him grow strong psychologically and become more independent. He has to work hard to live an normal life. From him, we know we shouldn’t feel sorry for the disable or make fun of them and that we shouldn’t ignore them either.

Abby Jaramillo never lost her enthusiasm. She believed that with age came courage, vision (远见卓识) and a true appreciation of life — all life. That’s why, at the age of eighty-six, Abby became the only caretaker of a flock of chickens abandoned alongside one of Southern California’s busiest freeways. The chickens were never rescued. Instead, they simply lived in the roadside bushes, becoming known to locals as the Hollywood Freeway Chickens.

Like many seniors, Abby lived alone and survived on a small amount of money. But to her, life was precious and not to be cruelly given up or ignored-not even the lives of abandoned chickens. Abby simply saw creatures in need and without hesitation, stepped into action. For nine years, while others sped past unaware and unconcerned, Abby made two visits a day to provide food and water for the abandoned chickens, using what little money she had available. As the years passed, she worried about the day when she would no longer be able to care for her adopted chickens and her cat Tiffy. Who would look after these poor helpless creatures if she could no longer make her journey?

At ninety-five, just when the cruelties of time began to damage Abby’s body, a heroine (女英雄) appeared. Alice Kahn, a young actress and a founding member of the organization Actors and Others for Animals, was Abby’s neighbor. Alice had observed Abby and noticed that the older woman also fed many of the homeless cats in the neighborhood. Alice approached Abby to see if her neighbor could identify the owner of a stray (走失的) dog that Alice had recently rescued. A quick and lasting friendship resulted.

Learning of Abby’s concern for the fate of her flock, Alice volunteered to help

Abby is gone now, but her concern for her fellow creatures lives on.

Your Name in Gold

Anne sat at the breakfast table, eating her cornflakes and reading the print on the cereal box in front of her. “Taste Cornflakes — Great New Offer!” the box read. “See back of box for details.”

Anne’s older sister, Mary, sat across from her, reading the other side of the cereal box. “Hey, Anne,” she said, “look at this awesome prize — ‘your name in gold’.”

As Mary read on, Anne’s interest in the prize grew. “Just send in one dollar with proof-of-purchase seal from this box and spell out your first name on the information blank. We will send you a special pin with your name spelled in gold. (Only one per family, please.)”

Anne grabbed the box and looked on the back, her eyes brightening with excitement. “That’s a neat idea,” she said. “A pin with my very own name spelled out in gold. I’m going to send in for it.”

“Sorry，Anne, I saw it first,” said Mary, “so I get first dibs on it. Besides, you don’t have a dollar to send in, and I do.”

“But I want a pin like that so badly,” said Anne. “Please let me have it!”

“No,” said her sister.

“You always get your way-just because you’re older than me,” said Anne, her lower lip trembling as her eyes filled with tears. “Just go ahead and send in for it. See if I care!” She threw down her spoon and ran from the kitchen.

Several weeks passed. One day the mailman brought a small package addressed to Mary.

“Would you like to see it, Anne?” Mary asked.