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.

One day my grandfather gave me a gift — a piggy bank. It had an opening through which one could put money in, but the opening was not big enough to reach in and get the money out. The only way to get at the money was to break the piggy bank open. My grandfather explained that was the whole idea: the piggy bank would help save my money so that, at the end of the year, I might have enough for that bike I dreamt about. He asked if I would put some of the money he gave me into the piggy bank. I agreed immediately and promised that I wouldn’t break it open until I could afford my dream bike.

Whenever he gave me a little bit of money, he would say, “This is for spending. But you can save some and put it in the piggy bank if you want to save it up.” When he gave me larger amounts, it was clearly for saving in the piggy bank. For some time, this worked fine. I loved shaking the piggy bank and hearing the sound of the coins. As it became heavier, I grew more excited, dreaming about buying my new bike, and all the adventures I could have on it.

Whenever I wanted to take some money from the piggy bank to buy delicious ice-creams or beautiful pens, I would imagine riding my bike on the street, and thinking of that, my thoughts about ice-creams or pens went away. So for almost six months, I only put money into the piggy bank without taking any out. I thought I wouldn’t break my piggy bank for anything. But one day something unexpected happened. I saw a piece of news on the television that a serious earthquake (地震) had happened in a nearby province. As many houses were destroyed, a lot of children became homeless. Seeing their shabby clothes and crying faces, I was sleepless that night.

One afternoon after school, Mary and her brother, Keith, were eating at a cafe near their home. That afternoon, they had to share their table with another person. That person was a young lady in her twenties. After eating, she went to the restroom. Without realizing, she had left her cellphone on the table. Five minutes later, she came out and walked out of the cafe without looking back.

Mary saw the cellphone on the table. She quickly told Keith, “Keith, the girl left behind her cellphone.”Keith looked at the cellphone. It took his breath away. It was one of the latest models on the market. Keith had always wanted a cellphone. But his parents had told him, “You don’t need one. You can always use the house phone.” He stared at it for some minutes. Then, he said slowly, pausing on every word, “I want to take the cellphone.” Mary could not believe her ears. She only stared at her brother, “You can’t! What if the owner comes to look for it?”

After making the decision, Keith quickly got the cellphone and put it in his schoolbag. Then, he took Mary’s hand and led her out of the cafe quickly.

Once back home, Keith locked his room door with trembling (颤抖的) hands. Inside his room, he took out the piece of beauty. Oh, he liked it so much. He had his own cellphone. Soon, he was polishing it happily. But Mary told him, “Keith, you cannot keep the cellphone. What will you tell our father about this? He will ask you how you got the cellphone.” Keith said quickly, “I will say a friend lent it to me.” Mary said, “Now you are lying too. Oh dear! When had Keith turned so dishonest?”

Then, Mary saw a house phone number on the cover of the cellphone. “This is the girl’s phone number. Why don’t we just call this number? We will talk to her and ask her to come and take back her cellphone,” she was trying to talk some sense into him.

That night, Keith turned over in bed from time to time.

Mary was very happy to hear that.

In a class I teach adults. I gave the class homework that was to “go to someone you love within the next week and tell them you love them. It has to be someone you have never said those words to before or at least haven’t shared those words with for a long time.”

It doesn’t sound like a very tough homework until you realize that most of the men in that group were over 35 who were less willing to express their feelings. So this was a very challenging homework for some.

At the beginning of our next class, I asked if someone wanted to share what had happened when they told someone they loved them. I fully expected one of the women to volunteer, as was usually the case, but on this evening one of the men raised his hand. He appeared quite moved and a bit shaken.

As he stood up, he began by saying, “Five years ago, my father and I had a sharp disagreement and really never solved it since then. We avoided seeing each other unless we absolutely had to be at family gatherings. But even then, we hardly spoke to each other, So, last Tuesday by the time I got home I had convinced myself I was going to tell my father I loved him. It was weird (怪异的), but just making that decision seemed to lift a heavy load off my chest.”

“The next morning I was up bright and early. I got to the office early and completed more in two hours than I had the whole day before. At 9: 00 I called my dad to see if I could come over after work. When he answered the phone, I just said, ‘Dad, can I come over after work tonight? I have something to tell you. ’My dad agreed with reluctance (不情愿).”

“At 5: 30. I was at my parents’ house ringing the doorbell, praying (祈祷) that Dad would answer the door. As luck would have it, Dad did answer the door. I didn’t waste any time — I took one step in the door and said, ‘Dad, I just came over to tell you that I love you.’”

“It was as if a change came over my dad.”

“But that’s not even my point.

It was the first week of Lily’s middle school. The bell’s ringing brought her out of her daydreaming. She nervously gathered her books, preparing to reach another classroom for the next new class.

Lily followed the other kids and rushed into the hallway. Others walked in groups, chatted, and laughed, using the break to socialize. Lily, instead, walked alone along the wall of the hallway, with her head down. She was a shy girl, afraid to speak in front of other kids, and didn’t think others would like her.

Lily finally sat in Mr. Johnson’s Language Arts class nervously. “Welcome to Language Arts,” said Mr. Johnson. He told jokes as he talked about English. Lily forgot to daydream and laughed along with the rest of the class. “We’ll have some fun with language,” he said. “Just wait and see.”

Fun was far beyond what Lily desired. She just wanted to be like other kids—running with friends in the hallway, laughing and joking between classes. Reminded of her pimply (长粉刺的) face, she felt hopeless and disappointed.

“Take out a piece of paper,” the teacher continued, when pointing at words on the blackboard. “Write for the next thirty minutes on this topic.” Lily began writing crazily as idea after idea fought for recognition in her head. The final result was a short story about a beautiful beach house. As she wrote, she could smell the salty air, hear the crashing waves and feel the pull of the sand beneath her feet. For just a moment, she forgot where she was. She was lost in the story.

“OK, pass your papers forward,” said the teacher. “Let’s see what we have.” For the rest of the class time, the teacher read each individual work aloud. Lily originally thought it would be awkward. However, she was gradually attracted by the excitement in the teacher’s voice. “He’s actually enjoying this,” she thought. When the class would be soon over, there were still fifteen students’ papers not read, including Lily’s paper. Then, Mr. Johnson announced his decision, asking these students to read their work themselves in front of the class next class.

A week later, the bell rang and the Language Arts class began again.

After Lily finished her reading, the clapping from her classmates continued for a long time.

My family moved from Taiwan to a smalltown in central Georgia, where my dad got a visa for his family and a job. I had just learned English, and from what little I could gather from my friends. Santa Claus would come down one’s chimney and put toys in one’s stocking on Christmas Eve! What a great country, I thought. After I looked up “stocking” in my Chinese-English dictionary, I knew what I had to do and always expected that day.

Finally, the big day came. On that wonderful night, after everyone went to bed, I sneaked out of bed, took my longest, cleanest knee sock and attached it to a nail already on the mantel (壁炉). Obviously, the previous owners of this house were no strangers to this Santa character. Gazing at the sock and imagining the delicately-packed gift in it, I couldn’t help giggling (咯咯笑). For the first time, I found it hard to fall asleep.

And for the first time, I woke up before everyone else in the early morning. Then I headed straight to the fireplace and was even ready for what to say after seeing the gift. However, what happened next was the least thing I wanted to mention. On the nail was the empty and lonely sock. I was hit with the reality of the empty sock and the biggest lie ever told. I tried my best to holdback my tears but failed. Bursting into tears, I quickly took down the sock and stuffed it in the back of a drawer.

Every December since then, the topic of Christmas memories would unavoidably come up, and I would amuse my friends with my poor-little-me story. I had to make it as funny as possible, or else I would cry once again. I didn’t know whether any of my audience ever noticed the sparkling tears hidden in my eyes.

How could I know that Santa was just late? Nine years ago, on Christmas Eve, I heard a knock on the door when I was watching TV. Unwillingly, I dragged my feet and opened the door.

Outside the door stood an old man with a white beard and a red cap, holding a well-packed box.

Through tear-blurred eyes, I recognized the handwriting on the card.

Mary waited anxiously for her turn in the empty dressing room. Never had she been so nervous before. This competition was of great importance to her comeback. “If I can win today,” she said to herself, “I can dance on the national stage next month.” Three months ago, her left arm was seriously injured in a car accident. After the medical treatment, she began to recover slowly. She practiced over and over again in order to regain her dancing skills.

“Hi, Mary,” in rushed her friend Jessica. “How is your arm? Is it going to influence your performance?”

“I guess it can be tolerated for I am to win the match.” said Mary with a determined look.

“Admirable! But I hear that a girl called Linda is really gifted and strong. She can be your real well-matched competitor. Come on!”

After Jessica left, Mary decided to practice her most difficult spin (旋转). “If I don’t try harder, I won’t grasp this chance.” She thought. But her arm began to hurt, making her worried. “Mary, what makes you think you have a chance tonight?” she said to herself. After the pain was gone, she continued to warm up.

A slim girl hurried in and put down an equipment bag on the chair. Then, she took out her dance dress quickly and put it on skillfully. Seeing Mary, she smiled politely and said “Hi, I’m Linda. I am the next one to you!” Mary nodded in reply but felt uncomfortable. “This is just my competitor. Because of her, I may lose tonight.” Her mind was wandering when Linda let out a scream, “Oh, God, I can’t find my music tape!” Linda searched her bag but in vain (徒劳). “It may be missing on the way.” With these words, she then rushed out.

Suddenly, Mary caught sight of a black box under the chair where Linda put her bag.

My friend was tying to get me to ride a roller coaster — any roller coaster — at Wonderland amusement park in Toronto. But the click, click, click of the cars climbing up the tracks made me fear. The stop at the top, before falling with people’s screams, seemed terrible.

My friends were still trying to persuade me, and I was still saying no, when I suddenly saw a familiar face, one I bad never seen outside a television set. It was Jennifer Capriati - a popular tennis star at the top of her game, already winning titles at the age of fourteen. She was my heroine. I pulled out a pen and the only paper that I could find and walked to her.

She was weaving her way through a rope that led to a ride called the Jet Scream. I was running quickly because I didn’t want to pass up the chance to meet her face to face, but I was also a bit nervous, so I waited at the exit to calm down and get closer to her as she came off the ride.

I watched her climb into a giant spaceship that started to slowly rock. It was soon swinging around in nearly a full circle, putting the screaming riders at unnatural angles. The Jet Scream is the type of ride that could easily make me throw up in two seconds, and I couldn’t bear to watch.

Several minutes later,she got out from the exit, laughing and talking with her brother. I focused on her walking toward me. I looked down at the ground. She walked past. It was more difficult to talk to a star than I thought, but I had to take the chance. I called her name, not very confidently, but more like a question, “Jennifer?” She turned around. Her eyes met mine. Our eyes actually met!

“Would you mind signing for me?” I asked, handing the pen and paper toward her. Her hand wrote over the paper and said, “You are the first person who has recognized me in the park so let’s take a roller coaster together.”

Hearing her invitation, my heart was filled with mixed feelings.

My friend caught up with me and asked, “Are you sure that you want to take a roller coaster?”