1 . How often one hears children wishing they were grown up, and old people wishing they were young again. Each age has its pleasures and its pains, and the happiest person is the one who enjoys what each age gives him without wasting his time in useless regrets.

Childhood is a time when there are few responsibilities to make life difficult. If a child has good parents, he is fed, looked after and loved, whatever he may do. It is impossible that he will ever again in his life be given so much without having to do anything in return. In addition, life is always presenting new things to the child — things that have lost their interest for older people because they are too well-known. But a child has his parents, he is not so free to do what he wishes to do; he is continually being told not to do things or being punished for what he has done wrong.

When the young man starts to earn his own living, he can no longer expect others to pay for his food, his clothes, and his room, but has to work if he wants to live comfortably. If he spends most of his time playing about in the way that he used to as a child, he will go hungry. And if he breaks the laws of society as he used to break the laws of his parents, he may go to prison. If, however, he works hard, keeps out of trouble and has good health, he can have the great happiness of building up for himself his own position in society.

4 . For years going home for the holidays has been bittersweet. I appreciate the opportunity to spend quality time with my mom but it is painful for me to see her house littered with stuff.Clothes bought but never worn, and new items in their original packaging carelessly purchased and never used. It’s evident that seeing the stuff on a daily basis reminds my mom of a time when shopping was her way of spending money.

I didn’t fully understand the extent to which my mom was suffering until this week, when I saw piles of clothes on her bed. “How do you manage to sleep every night with all that stuff, Mom?” I asked. To my horror, she replied, “I do it because I know I have to get rid of all this stuff eventually; I am punishing myself by sleeping with them until I do that. ”

Shocked and upset, I gently explained to her that punishing herself was only to make things worse,and that everybody deserves a place to sleep in peace, no matter what mistakes they’ve made. I suggested she move all the stuff upstairs, leaving her room comfortable to sleep in.

With patience and her slow but steady guidance, I helped her go through some of the piles and move them upstairs. For the rest of the week I stayed there, she was in a better mood and was excited about going through the rest of the house to finally get rid of her stuff—past mistakes and painful times. The items brought back painful memories as we inspected and moved them, but I kept reminding her that removing them would allow her to move on and heal. We finally sold so many things and took bag after bag to charity.

The stuff is just a sign of the destructive patterns of self-hatred on past mistakes. Only through the act of self-forgiveness can we bring about a chain reaction of reorganizing—both of the house and heart.

5 . There is a song by the great Jamaican singer Bob Marley called So Much Trouble in The World. Marley understood that part of the reason why there are so many problems in the world is the lack of tolerance between people. The UN understands this too— that is why it made November 16th “International Day for Tolerance”.

But first, what is tolerance? According to French philosopher Voltaire, “Tolerance is the consequence of humanity. We are all formed of frailty (脆弱) and error; let us pardon each other’s fool— that is the first law of nature.”

Very often, people do not realize that they are intolerant. This is because intolerance has a lot to do with ignorance. For example, the UN’s campaign is in part about the treatment of females by males. But often, the behavior of men toward women is intolerant because men do not put themselves in the shoes of women.

It is worth thinking a little about the words “tolerance” and “intolerance”. Are they the best words to describe the evils of which we are speaking here? To agree to be “tolerant” of someone is not necessarily a very respectful thing. When someone is tolerated, it implies that there is something wrong with them.

Still, what Voltaire said stands: We humans are not perfect and this weakness is something that we all share. That is the reason we should be tolerant. It is a little like generosity. We can give things to another person, and we can also give our forgiveness.

6 . A young woman went to her grandmother and told her about her life and how things were so hard for her. She did not know how to deal with the problems. It seemed that one problem was solved and a new one would come up. She was tired of life and wanted to give up.

Her grandmother took her to the kitchen. She filled three pots with water and put each on a fire, and soon the water boiled. She put carrots in the first pot, eggs in the second one and some coffee beans (豆子) in the last one. About twenty minutes later, she turned off the burners. She took the carrots and eggs out and put them in different bowls. Then she poured the coffee into another bowl. And then she asked her granddaughter what she saw.

“Carrots, eggs and coffee,” she replied. Her grandmother asked her to feel the carrots. She did and said that they were soft. The grandmother then asked her to break an egg. After taking off the shell, she found the hard boiled egg. Finally, the grandmother asked her to taste the coffee. The granddaughter smiled as she tasted it, and then she asked, “What does it mean, grandmother?”

Her grandmother explained that each thing had faced the same boiling water. Each reacted differently. The carrot had been strong and hard. However, after twenty minutes in the boiling water, it became soft and weak. The egg had been fragile (易碎的). But after sitting through the boiling water, its inside became hard. The coffee beans were special, however. After they were in the boiling water, they had changed the water.

“Which are you?” she asked her granddaughter.

7 . My father loves his garden. He planted some seeds in it. But at that time, I didn’t understand why working in the dirt excited him so much.

Unfortunately, in early May, my father was seriously injured in an accident. He had to stay in bed for a while. My mother had several business trips, so she couldn’t take care of the garden. I didn’t want my father to worry, so I said that I would take care of his garden until he recovered. I assumed that the little plants would continue to grow as long as they had water, and luckily it rained fairly often, so I didn’t think much about the garden.

One Saturday morning, my father said to me, “Christine, the vegetables should be about ready to be picked. Let’s have a salad today!” I went out to the garden and was upset to see that many of the lettuce leaves and carrots had been half eaten by bugs. There were hundreds of bugs all over them!

I panicked for a moment but then I quietly went to the nearest store to buy some vegetables. When I gave the salad to him, he said, “Oh, Christine, what a beautiful salad! I can’t believe the carrots are this big already. You must be taking very good care of my garden.” I felt a little bit guilty.

Coming home, my mother saw the bag from the supermarket in the kitchen. I was embarrassed, and I admitted Dad wanted a salad but the garden was a disaster. I didn’t want to disappoint him so I went to the store. She laughed but promised to help me in the garden and weeks later I was finally able to pick some vegetables.

I carefully made a salad and took it to my father. He looked at it with a hint of a smile, “Christine, the carrots are smaller in this salad, but they taste better.”

Now, I better understand how putting a lot of effort into caring for something can help you appreciate the results more, however small they may be. Perhaps this was one of the reasons for my father’s love of gardening.

10 . When I was growing up, I had an old neighbor, Dr. Gibbs. He didn’t look like any doctor I’d ever known. He never invited us to play in his yard, but he was a very kind person. When Dr. Gibbs wasn’t saving lives, he was planting trees. He owned a large field and wanted to make it a forest.

The good doctor had some interesting ideas about planting trees. He never watered his new trees. Once I asked why, he said that watering plants spoiled them, and that if you watered them, each baby tree would grow weaker and weaker, so you had to make things difficult for them and pick out the weaker trees early on. He talked about how watering trees made for shallow (浅的）roots, and how trees that weren’t watered had to grow deep roots in search of water under the earth by themselves. Deep roots were very important. So he never watered his trees. He’d planted an oak and, instead of watering it every morning, he’d beat it with a rolled-up newspaper. I asked him why he did that, and he said it was to get the tree’s attention.

Dr. Gibbs died several years after I left home. Every now and then, I walked by his house and looked at the trees that I watched him plant about twenty-five years ago. They’re very big and strong now. I planted some trees a few years back and carried water to them for a whole summer. After two years of caring too much, whenever a cold wind blows in, they shake a lot.

Every night before I go to bed, I check on my two sons. Mostly I pray (祈祷) that their lives will be easy. But lately I’ve been thinking that it’s time to change my prayer. I know my children are going to face difficulties. There’s always a cold wind blowing somewhere, so what we need to do is to pray for roots that reach deep into the brave heart, so when the rains fall and the winds blow, we could face it strongly and won’t be beaten down.