A Little Boy

A little boy selling magazines for school walked up to a house that people rarely visited. The house was very old and shabby and the owner hardly ever came out. When he did come out, he would not say hello to his neighbors or passers-by but simply just glared at them.

The boy knocked on the door and waited, sweating from fear of the old man. The boy’s parents told him to stay away from the house, and a lot of other neighborhood children were told the same thing from their parents.

Dusk found the boy lingering on and hesitating what to do. As he was ready to walk away, the door slowly opened. “What do you want?” the old man said impatiently. The little boy was very afraid but he had a quota (定额) to meet for school with selling the magazines. So he got up the courage and said, “Uh, Sir, I am selling these magazines and, uh, I was wondering if you would like to buy one from me.”

The old man just stared at the boy without a word. The boy could see inside the old man’s house and saw that he had dog figurines (小雕像) on the fireplace mantle. “Do you collect dogs?” The little boy asked. “Yes, I have many collections in my house. They are my family here and they are all I have.” The boy then felt sorry for the man, as it seemed that he was a very lonely soul.

“Well, I do have a magazine here for collectors. It is perfect for you. I also have one about dogs since you like dogs so much.” The old man was ready to close the door on the boy and said, “No, boy. I don’t need any magazines of any kind, now goodbye.”

The little boy was sad that he was not going to make his quota with the sale. He was also sad for the old man being so alone in the house that he owned. The boy went home and then had an idea. He had a little dog figurine that he got some years ago from an aunt. The figurine did not mean nearly as much to him since he had a real live dog and a large family.

The little boy headed back down to the old man’s house.

From that day on something changed inside the old man.

The other day, I was driving home, a little upset because I hated working at the weekend. On the way, I decided to grab some veggies in the nearby greengrocer's. Since there was still thin ice on the road, I took a glance at the rear mirror to make sure no pedestrians or vehicles came close, and slowly steered the wheel to the right. Then out of any of my expectancy my car bumped into an electric bike, giving out a harsh metallic clash. I collected myself and saw out of the window screen a teenager lean on one side of the bike, one foot off the ground.

All of a sudden, a familiar scene flashed across my mind.

When I was in high school, I had fun riding my bike along the country road on sweltering and boring afternoons during summer holidays. Sometimes I carried my little brother to the only grocery store in the neighborhood where we could buy our favorite ice cream. Once we had an argument about what to buy. Seeing him leave the store in a temper, I jumped on the bike and tried to talk him into going back. Suddenly, he gave me a push and I inclined towards the middle of the road when a motorbike came in my face. I fell on the ground before I could see anything clearly. Luckily, I didn't get hurt but still couldn^’t rise to my feet. The motorist, a middle-aged man, ignoring his torn jeans, shed to check on me, “Are you okay? Your leg? Your foot?"

“I am all right, but..."I stared at him, terrified because I was sure he would ask for "big" sum of money for compensation. Instead, he just let me go despite his wife's protests. Guilty as I was, I was happy that I was spared. I was really grateful to the man for pardoning a silly kid who had made such a big mistake involuntarily.

The watch was my grandfather's. He hung it by his bed. The face was marked with elegant Roman numbers and the case was gold. My grandfather got it after his fifty years of faithful service with his firm. I often gazed at it longingly as I sat with my grandfather after school.

The day I told him of my success in the examinations, he was pleased, "You'll be going to the new school next, Will. Remember you'll need plenty of patience. That's the right way. " I nodded when handing him the watch. He gazed at it for some moments, and wound it.

The next morning my mother told me he had died in his sleep and left me his watch. For safety, my mother was to put it away in trust until she considered me old enough to look after it. I protested（抗议）so strongly that she finally agreed to hang it in the kitchen where I could always see it.

The summer soon ended and it was time for me to enter the new school. I never made friends easily, and for a time I did little more than get on speaking terms with some boys. One of them was a rich fellow whose way of impressing us was to parade his possessions before us. Everything Crawley had was better than ours—until he brought the watch.

"I have a better watch than that," I announced, attempting to impress them. "Well, show it to us," Crawley sneered（冷笑）in disbelief. Embarrassed, I promised to bring it to them that afternoon.

Considering there was no way to persuade my mother to let me take the watch, I decided to wait for her to step outside and slip the watch into my pocket. So I did. After lunch, as I was too excited to wait for the return bus, I got my bike out of the shed

I rode fast, excitement coursing through me. Then suddenly a puppy ran out into my path. I pulled at my brakes so hard that the bike stopped to a sharp standstill（急停）and I fell over.

I picked myself' up and put a trembling hand into my pocket.

"That's not the right way. Patience, Will. Patience, " a voice echoed in my ears after the boys left.

Elizabeth walked to the yard, carrying a bunch of daisies(雏菊).

“Beautiful flowers for, for... Oh, I’ll never get it right!” She cried, throwing the daisies on the ground. She had been practising her speech for a week.

Part of her couldn’t wait. This Saturday, the great Ana Wolff, famous pianist, would perform at the concert hall in town. For four years, Elizabeth had listened to Ms Wolffs recordings over and over again, loving the way the notes flowed like a rushing mountain stream.

Part of Elizabeth was terrified. Her music teacher at school, Mr Leaf, had asked her to present the flowers to Ms Wolff after the performance. But Elizabeth knew herself well. She had serious stage fright and she really hated it when she had to talk in front of people. Even so, Elizabeth was determined to take the challenge this time.

“How’s the speech going?” asked Elizabeth’s mother, “Want to practice on me?”

“No, thanks,” said Elizabeth, “Mum, I can’t do this! I’ll forget. I might even pass out(昏倒)!”

“Oh, honey. Think about it... sharing the stage with Ana Wolff. What an honour!” Mum gently comforted her.

Elizabeth kept practising. “Beautiful flowers for... for a beautiful performance...” She presented the flowers to the cat, the dog, even the statue in the garden. Soon it was Saturday night, Elizabeth stood at the backstage, behind the heavy black curtains. Holding the bouquet(花束)of red roses, she felt her heart racing wildly and her stomach tightened with nervousness．

The lights dimmed, and Ms Wolff began her performance. She swayed and nodded with her fingers dancing across the keys. Soft sad parts, loud angry parts, parts that sounded fun to play. Drawn into the music, Elizabeth forgot for a moment about the six words she had to say. With a flourish(挥舞), Ms Wolff played her final note. Applause thundered through the hall. People jumped to their feet and cheered.

Ms Wolff smiled and bowed. Then she walked off stage and into the wings(舞台侧面). Almost immediately, she returned to the stage for a second bow.

Then came the frightening moment.

The audience cheered and clapped loudly for them.

Growing up, my parents and older brothers all smoked. Being a child of the 80s, it was normal for the adults to be smoking inside and during trips in the car. There just wasn’t the same awareness of the dangers of second-hand smoke exposure that there is today.

I remember the day when I started smoking. I was 11. I was trying to impress one of the “bad boys” at school. I stole tobacco from my father and rather clumsily rolled a cigarette that I took to school with me. Smoking gave me a sense of autonomy and choice over my own life, and at 11 it was the ultimate act of rebellion. Soon I got addicted to it and was taking cigarettes from dad’s packets on a regular basis. I knew he never started counting them until he had less than half a pack left.

After a while I got caught smoking at school. My parents struck a deal with me: if I stopped smoking at school, they would purchase more tobaccos for me to smoke at home. This was perhaps a misguided attempt to keep me out of trouble. I jumped at the idea, and simply got smarter about smoking at school.

I smoked right through my teens and early 20s, spending thousands of dollars on cigarettes, sacrificing food and other necessities to ensure I had cigarettes.

I tried many methods to quit, but each time I would go back to smoking. I have always had a love-hate relationship with cigarettes. On the one hand, they were a friend to me when I had no other, one constant in my life I could rely on. On the other hand, I despised (鄙视) being dependent on something that was going to kill me.

I grew concerned about the effect my smoking would have on my children and I felt guilty putting cigarettes over other things that could have benefited my family. It is with great shame that I admit that I continued smoking even after having a daughter born with cystic fibrosis (囊性纤维). My daughter fights every day to breathe — and here I was intentionally causing damage to my lungs.

The turning point for me was an incredibly painful experience.

I set myself further little goals, such as only taking my e-cigarettes whenever I went.