“Anybody have a bandage (绷带)?” a voice echoed down the dorm hallway. That was a common scene frequently happening in our first week at college when we were all experiencing “forgot-this-or-that.” I had forgot to bring snacks for late-night hunger. Some poor girl in the dorm had apparently forgotten bandages. We all felt a little displaced.

Several months before, I sat at my high school graduation party admiring my gifts and battling waves of post-high school emotions. The usual and beloved inspirational books were lying in disorder around my feet, silently announcing the wealth of wisdom they wished to share. A small pile of personal checks lay nearby. Laundry items, desk supplies, sewing things - all well-intentioned and well-received. They would demonstrate their givers’ thoughtfulness over and over during my college career.

But one gift struck me as strange. I frowned when I opened it. A first aid kit? Inside it were a small packet of pills, pain-killers, creams, ointments (药膏), an insect sprayer (喷雾), a tape, pads of gauze (纱布)and bandages. Who would give that as a gift? “You’ll need that once you’re at school,” Mom pointed out. “You won’t have to chase down the campus nurse for every cough. ”I shrugged at this thought.

Not long after, in August, I packed my life into a borrowed truck and slipped the first-aid kit in with my luggage. I barely thought about it once I reached campus, busy unpacking, book-buying, scheduling and meeting new friends.

One day, I was peacefully sitting in my room, absorbed in preparing my studies. The quiet atmosphere was suddenly broken by a sharp scream, “Anybody have a bandage? Emily got her arm burnt!” The voice echoed through the dormitory hall, instantly throwing residents into a state of confusion and alarm.

I remembered my little first-aid kit.

Years later, I received a party invitation from a young friend who was graduating from high school.

Spreading Joy

This past Christmas season began for me as usual on the day after Thanksgiving, Black Friday. My mom, sister, and I had gotten up early to go shopping. As we were driving out of a store parking lot, we caught sight of a dreadfully thin woman sitting on a walker. She was clearly homeless, with bird feathers stuck into her gray hair, and a dirty yellow raincoat.

That homeless woman got us thinking about what Christmas would be like for some one who has no place to call home. With no family to turn to and certainly no presents to open on Christmas morning, these people have nothing to look forward to but the cold and lonely place where they choose to camp. Even though we live in sunny California, the temperature can still fall below freezing on winter nights. Where would this woman sleep when the sun went down?

Sadly, homeless people are a common sight in our town. On our way home, we passed countless people pushing shopping carts overflowing with their belongings and people standing in the center dividers of roads holding cardboard signs with “Just Hungry” written on them.

The next day, my mom had a great idea. While we were out Christmas shopping, we purchased some blue tins (罐) of sugar cookies and a few boxes of candy canes. When we got home, I helped my mom carefully ti e each tin with a red ribbon and tape a candy cane on top. Next, we wrote “Call 211 for Help” on notes and taped them to the bottoms of the tins. “Not only will we be spreading Christmas cheer, but now the homeless people will have a number to call and get the help they need,” my mom explained as we worked.

We put all the tins in the car and, whenever we went for a drive, we searched the streets for individuals down on their luck. Usually, the streets are crowded with people carrying sleeping bags, but somehow when you are looking for something, it always seems to disappear.

Eventually, we found a young man sleeping in the Lowe’s parking lot.

The day before Christmas, we drove around the streets again with our final tin.

We had moved to a new town for my husband’s work. After living here for just a couple of weeks, I was more than ready to pick up my luggage and move back home. I was lonely for a friend. My boy Samuel was lonely. My husband, Lonny, adapted just fine, but he was occupied with work most of the time.

I missed our old neighborhood. It had been like a closely knitted community where neighbors chatted over fences. Newcomers were welcomed with chocolate brownies (巧克力蛋糕) and carrot bread. It had been easy to find friends there.

Our new community was different. It seemed that family roots grew deep. Deep as the Mississippi River that flowed past this tiny river town. Breaking in was tough.

“I’m so alone here,” I said to Lonny one evening. Lonny is a good listener, and a problem solver. “What have you done to meet people?” he asked. “I go to the park every day. I even dropped by a book salon (读书沙龙) at the library the other day and came across a nice lady with a boy.”

“Sounds not bad,” he said. “Did you talk to her?” The answer was no. It wasn’t that people here were unkind. I just didn’t feel like initiating conversations, and I preferred minding my own business in a new environment.

A few more months passed and winter settled in. It was harder than ever to meet people. I began to feel bitter. I was tired of trying to fit in a place where we didn’t belong.

Lonny noticed my low spirits. “Amy, you look unapproachable, with your arms crossed and everything,” he whispered in my ear one afternoon. He and I were sitting in the yard. Samuel, our five-year-old was playing baseball next to us.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m not going to have friends here.” Just then Samuel looked up. He must’ve heard our whispers. “Mom’s right, Dad. We’ll never ever have friends here. And we just want to go back to our old home.” I sat there and looked at my tiny innocent son. His words mirrored my attitude. And I didn’t like the disturbing reflection.

That’s when I knew that I needed an adjustment.

One afternoon, Samuel and I ran into the lady with her boy again at the library.

George, owner of a popular restaurant, was known for his excellent food, which was much loved by his customers. Even though he was talented, successful, and wealthy, his employees feared him for his strictness.

Debbie, a new waitress at George’s restaurant, was hardworking, always serving customers with a smile. George was satisfied with her work. After about two months, George asked the night manager about Debbie, and the man had only good things to say about her. “She’s smart, quick, and efficient, and she deals with customers better than anyone! We are searching for an assistant manager, and she seems like a good candidate. She’s got great potential!”

However, one night, George caught Debbie in the act of stealing. Walking into the kitchen, he saw her putting a box carefully into her bag. “Debbie!” he called out. “Come to my office now!” He was seated behind his desk with a serious look as she entered. “Open your bag,” George ordered. Debbie’s face tuned red, and she opened her bag to take out two plastic boxes, shaking as she placed them on the desk. George opened them to find some leftover food and a piece of cake. “You’re fired,” he screamed out in anger. “Right now!”

“Please,” Debbie begged. “Please don’t! The food was just going to be thrown away…”

“It’s against the rules here,” George replied firmly.

“Please,” Debbie continued. “There’s something you don’t know…”

She said softly, “My son has leukemia (白血病) , and the treatments are more than I can afford. I’ve been taking the leftover food home to save money for his care.”

“Your son has leukemia…” George repeated. “Is this true?” Debbie showed him a photo of a young boy in a hospital bed, smiling bravely. George took a deep breath and looked at Debbie, and said more kindly, “The rules say you should be fired. I’ll talk it over with the night manager. Let’s discuss this tomorrow.”

Debbie was very worried, but she had no choice.

George said he made a decision after careful consideration.

On my son Andrew's 15th birthday, I took him to a shoe shop near our home in Toronto to get a pair of shoes. Andrew is nonspeaking autistic (自闭症) and prefers to go shopping when it's not busy.

Andrew got new shoes for his 15th birthday. As we headed toward the door, I told the sales assistants it was Andrew's 15th birthday today. "Happy birthday and have fun," the sales assistants replied.

Instead of having Andrew point to the "thank you" symbol on the picture chart he carried with him, I paused and held up his letterboard.

For ten years, we have carried around a picture chart, which Andrew uses to communicate. It contains images that match his most important and most used words: people, places, food, greetings and activities. Over the years, neighbourhood kids, friends, cousins and classmates have studied the pictures and the strips at the top of the chart that contain even more "representations" of Andrew's life.

Years ago, we discovered that Andrew could communicate more than his basic needs through the use of a letterboard—by pointing to individual letters on an alphabet grid (网格) to spell out words. It's a simple but profound tool. We have attached a letterboard to the back of his picture chart to spare us the trouble of carrying multiple charts and boards.

Using the letterboard requires significant time and effort for Andrew, but we persevere (坚持) because we know it gives him an opportunity to share more of who he is than what can be conveyed through basic pictures and words.

And so, instead of rushing out of the shoe shop door. I held up the letterboard and asked Andrew how he'd like to respond.

After a moment of silent consideration, Andrew slowly pointed to the letters on the board.

On our way home, I thought a lot.

Most people think that procrastination (拖延症) is a negative habit. But people like me who routinely put off doing assignments, are likely to defend our “slower” approach to getting tasks done.

I'm the only procrastination in my family. My parents and sister were all born with the “do it right now” gift. They are always in a rush, as if closely rushed by an invisible deadline. Personally, I prefer a more relaxed pace. When my parents voiced their concern about my tendencies, saying “Don’t put off until tomorrow what you can do today,” “No way!” I responded, confidently presenting my research as a defense. It said people procrastinated when they need to solve a problem or commit to a topic or project. In these cases, delaying a decision can be beneficial. This was because our minds continue to reflect on problems even when we were not actively thinking about them, which could lead to more creative solutions. My findings filled me with satisfaction and pride. My method of getting things done was just as good as my sister’s…or so I thought.

At school we’d been talking about architecture and design. As part of the final assessment my teacher Mr. Smith announced an exciting project that each student would have a month to complete. We were expected to choose our materials, construct a small building and make use of things we had learned in class. Not only would the winners receive extra credit, but the winning constructions would be proudly displayed in the cafeteria. “I have no clue how I could get it done,” my friend Nate sighed in despair. I didn’t say anything. Not because I shared his anxiety-but because I was not nervous at all. I loved hands-on projects! Picturing my brilliant work exhibited in the cafeteria, I was fully convinced that I would definitely produce something that could impress everyone. So relaxed was I that I didn’t give it a second thought for weeks.

Before I knew it, I had only one day left for the project.

That taught me a great lesson.

Six hundred anxious parents and relatives sat in the school hall waiting for the talent show to begin. Jane sat alone in the crowd. It seemed everything she did lately, she did alone. Over the past several years the unexpected downward spirals (逐渐下滑) had destroyed her marriage and seriously threatened her financial situation, leaving her exhausted and hopeless. She worried how she was going to provide a future for herself and her eight-year-old daughter, Renee.

Renee had one passion—to learn Irish dance. For several years, with a borrowed CD, she had taught herself a few steps and had even danced in front of both her first and second grade classes. This year, despite their situation, Jane had somehow managed to squeeze enough from her budget to pay for Renee’s dancing lessons. For four months Renee had practiced, determined to perform in this talent show.

Renee could not have been more excited or looked more beautiful than she did tonight in her borrowed Irish costume and shoes. Full of confidence, she was ready to dance! As the program moved through each performance, Jane was anxious and wondered how her little third grade daughter would respond to such a large audience. In her short eight years, Renee had never faced such a challenge.

Finally, it was Renee’s turn. Jane held her breath as the curtain rose and the spotlight piereed (穿透) through the darkness and onto her daughter looking so small and alone on the stage. The audience greeted her with polite applause and the music began.

Renee fell quickly into step with the cheerful Irish tune. Her joy was evident as she danced and spun (旋转) in circles around the stage. A few in the crowd began to clap with the music. More joined in until the entire audience, caught up in the beat, was clapping along with Renee as she danced lightly.

But wait! Jane wanted to shout. What happened?

The music shouldn’t have stopped!

In the silence of that hall, Renee danced on and on.

American football can be pretty competitive. From old opponents to fan drama, it’s just another part of the game. There have even been all-out violent fights in the name of defending your team. However, one high school football player Mario Hoefer showed that his love for the sport didn’t take priority over helping a person in need.

One afternoon in September, Charles City High School football team Mario was on faced nearby New Hampton in a Friday football game. Mario was captain of his team and Carter the quarterback of the opposing team.

It was really foggy and awfully hot. Filled with excited audience in the stands, the stadium felt like a heated steamer. Every player was we win sweat even during the warm-ups. All this meant the game would be a tough one and a test or the mind and body of both teams.

Soon the game began and for the first three quarters, each team seemed to have a chance to win and they took the lead by turns. So exhausted was Mario running back and forth that he cramped (抽筋) up twice. Each time he got a cramp near the New Hampton sideline, his teammates came to his assistance and stretched his leg to ease the cramp. Though feeling uncomfortable and worn out, Mario soldiered on as Charles City protected a slim lead and New Hampton attempted a late comeback.

In the fourth quarter, Mario saw his teammates across the field break up a crucial pass intended for Carter. Mario was about to cross over to the other side of the field to high five his teammates when he noticed that beside him, Carter fell onto the ground, screaming in pain, his eyes wide open and a look of panic on his face. Carter grabbed his left calf (小腿肚), trying to move his leg in different positions. Judging from Carter’s desperate expression, Mario realized Carter was possibly experiencing an unbearable cramp just as he himself had gone through minutes before. But the New Hampton players were farther away from the quarterback.