With a wide smile on her face, 15-year-old Sirin eagerly rushed to her mom to show off her new painting. But Mom raised her eyebrows with eyes wide open, and spoke impatiently, “No time, baby. Right now I am busy with an important talk. Just wait for some time, OK?”

Holding her oil painting, she frowned (皱眉),and then searched for her dad. “Dad, see what I have done,” Sirin exclaimed cheerfully. Her dad turned around while adjusting his tie, grinned at her, and showed his thumbs up!

Immediately, Sirin replied angrily, “Dad, you haven’t seen it yet.”

He smiled at her saying, “No time, baby. I will see it later.” He just patted her back lovingly, kissed her forehead, and rushed for his office.

She was not a kid to be pleased with simple gesture or smile. She stood there for a few seconds, and then stormed off to her own bedroom. Hot air was blowing from her nostrils (鼻孔) ; her face turned into apple red. She threw the painting on the table, slammed the door and threw herself on her bed.

“Why is everybody so busy?” She recalled thousands of incidents that hurt her in preschool, middle school and even in high school too! She assumed at least her own family members would give some values to her thoughts, but they were no exception. Unconsciously, her eyes were filled with tears.

The knocking sound on the door put a sudden stop to her thought. Her mom was calling her for dinner. Sirin deliberately (故意地) came late to join them. She kept silent and didn’t look at anyone, scratching the table mat with her nail. Her mom was puzzled at the unusual behavior. Suddenly the morning incident came to mind. Softly, she asked, “ Honey, did I do anything wrong? ”

At this very moment, Sirin could no longer resist her anger.

When back from school the next day, Sirin was surprised to see her beautifully-decorated paining on the wall.

Arthur was messy. He didn’t try to make messes, but he didn’t try to clean up much, either. There were always small pieces of food on the table when he was done eating. His socks never made it into the hamper (洗衣篮). And he only picked up his toys when Mom threatened to throw them away. Most days, Mom followed Arthur around the house and cleaned up after him. She brushed the crumbs (碎屑) into her hand and threw them away after meals. She picked up his socks and made sure they got washed, dried and folded neatly before going back in the drawer. She often picked up his toys when he left them to do something else.

One day, Mom asked Arthur to pick up his toy trains. “Not right now,” Arthur said. He was reading a comic book. The trains had been on the living room floor since the morning.

“You know what, Arthur? I’m not going to ask you again. I’m done cleaning today.” And with that, Mom put her feet up on the sofa and picked up a book to read.

At dinner time, Arthur noticed that there was a big pile of crumbs at his place at the table. Mom’s spot was nice and clean. Arthur didn’t like the crumbs very much. After dinner, Arthur’s feet felt cold. He went to his room and opened his drawer, but the drawer was empty. “Mom, where are my socks?” Arthur called.

“There weren’t any socks in your hamper, so I didn’t wash them,” Mom said. Arthur felt unhappy. Now his feet would be cold, unless he wanted to wear dirty socks from the floor. He decided to stay barefoot.

When it was time for bed, Arthur said good night to Mom and turned to go upstairs. Arthur stepped right on his toy train in his bare feet. “Ouch!” cried Arthur. “That really hurt.”

However, Mom was still reading and said nothing.

“Mom?” said Arthur. “Tomorrow can you show me how to do the laundry so I can wash my socks?”

An 80-year-old man was sitting on the sofa in his house along with his 45-year-old highly educated son. Suddenly a crow (乌鸦) perched on the tree near heir window.

The father asked his son,“What is this?" The son replied,“It is a crow.”

After a few minutes, the father asked his son the second time“What is this?” The son said,

“Father, I have just now told you. It's a crow.”

After a little while, the old father again asked his son the third time,“What is this?”

“It’s a crow, a crow, a crow”said the son loudly and impatiently.

A few minutes later, the father again asked his son the fourth time.“What is it?”

This time the son shouted at his father, “Why do you keep asking me the same question again and again?IT IS A CROW. Are you not able to understand this?”

A little later the father went to his room and came back with an old diary, which he had kept since his son was born. On pernicious a page,he asked his son to read that pages. When the son read it, the following words were written in the diary:

“Today my little son aged three was siting with me on the sofa when a crow was siting on the window. My son asked me 23 times what it was, and I replied to him all 23 times that it was a crow. I hugged him lovingly each time he asked me the same question again and again for 23 times. I did not at all feel annoyed; I rather felt love for my innocent child.”

After reading the diary,

Feeling ashamed,the son got down on his knees before his father.

Holidays are not necessarily for fun or rest. Doing something meaningful can also gain special pleasure. When the final bell rang, the students were reminded that there was no school on Monday — the Labor Day. "Enjoy your extra day off," said the teacher to her class.

An extra day of fun suited Kayla just fine. She loved breaks. She wanted to go out to play with her friends. When the school bus dropped Kayla off, she ran into the house happily.

"How was school, Kayla?" asked her mom.

"It was great, Mom. I am excited about no school on Monday. "

"You just started back to school two weeks ago. Already in need of a break, huh?" asked Kayla's mom with a laugh.

Kayla slept in the next morning. Saturday was her favorite day of the week. It rained most of the day, so Kayla enjoyed playing video games inside. On Sunday, her friends came over and they played basketball for several hours.

Then it was Labor Day, you know, the extra day off that Kayla was so looking forward to. But Kayla was awakened early that morning by her dad. He told Kayla that in honor of Labor Day, the family would be cleaning both inside and outside the house. Kayla couldn't believe it. This was a holiday. A day when she was supposed to be enjoying freshly squeezed lemonade while playing in her tree house. As Kayla wiped her eyes, she began to wonder if this was just a bad dream.

"Kayla, your breakfast is ready. We have a lot of work to do today. Let's get a move on," said Kayla's mom. As she sat down at the kitchen table, Kayla asked her parents, "Are you serious about working today? Isn't Labor Day a holiday?"

"Yes, Kayla. It is," replied her dad. "But your mom and I thought working hard today would make you appreciate why Labor Day was observed in the first place."

At first, Kayla felt disappointed at her parents’ plan for the holiday. How eagerly she wanted to go to out to play with her friends! She was against the annoying plan from the bottom of her heart, but she had no choice. First, Kayla was arranged to wash the breakfast dishes. After that, she was asked to give their puppy a bath. She knew it was a hard task, which needed a lot of tiring, careful and patient work. She has begun the work with great unwillingness.

But things began to change as she was doing the jobs.

I woke up after surgery with my leg bandaged beyond recognition, with tubes coming out of various limbs(肢体），with my mouth dry and my mind confused.

The operation had required two bone transplants to fill the chunk(组块）I'd broken (it was in a million pieces, a doctor said). They'd inserted a titanium rod, a dozen or so screws. I wouldn't walk for three months, optimistically. I couldn't drive. I couldn't navigate the steps in our house. I couldn't even shower on my own.

I would be sent home to California with a machine designed to train my leg to regain its range of motion. I would sit in it for six hours a day, and when I wasn't sitting in the machine, I would be at physical therapy or limited to bed rest.

I was not thinking normally on my IV drip(静脉滴注） but my mind was clear enough and I turned to my husband Adam and asked,"How are we going to manage?" Who would get the kids to the bus at 7:15 a.m., since my husband was in his office by 6 am, each day? Who would deal with the dogs,who relied on my companionship and long walks? Who would prepare dinner?Who would drive to tennis practices and softball games and sleepovers?

＂We'll figure it out," Adam said. I nodded, because what was the alternative? But nowhere in any of my Vicodin-infused cells did I believe him. Not even a tiny bit.

I posted about my accident on Face-book. An image of me with tubes up my nose,and a picture of my leg,wrapped and swollen.

Friends' responses flooded in asking for ways they could help.

Both my children and husband learned to be autonomous and considerate.

During lunchtime , Emma suggested going to the zoo to feed the animals and her mom agreed. “We’ll stop by the bakery and pick some day-old bread up if you’d like. Now hurry and eat and then we’ll go. It’s going to be a lovely day. Grandma is coming with us. She’ll be here any minute,” Mom said.” Go and get your shoes on and then we’ll go.”

Emma ate her lunch and then ran into her room to get her shoes. The problem is that she could only find one of them. She looked under her bed, but all she could see were dirty towels and pants. She moved some of her toys out of the way, but still couldn’t find the other shoe. After she’d checked everywhere she could in her room, she ran into the kitchen. “Hi Gran,” she called to her grandma who had just arrived. “Mom, I can’t find my shoe. Will you wait while I look for it?” she asked.

Thinking about how many times she’d told Emma to clean her room up, her mom whispered something to Gran and then said to Emma, “ You will have to stay home. Your dad and I will take Ryan to the zoo. Gran will stay here with you.”

“No, Mom. Please wait for me. I want to go to the zoo, ” Emma cried.

“I’ m sorry. Emma. I’ve told you a dozen times to clean your room and you ignored me. You can’t find your shoe now. It’s your own fault for not doing as I asked. You will stay home with Gran. ”

Emma ran into bedroom, sobbing. Her mom came to the door. “ Emma, clean your room before I get home. I’ve told Gran not to give you any sweet until you finish cleaning.” She went out to the car with Ryan and Emma’s dad and then they drove away.

Emma cried for a long time and then she wiped the tears from her eyes and started to clean her room.

When her mom, dad and Ryan returned home, they went to Emma’s room.

My Dad’s Best Flower

I remember my first home was a small apartment on the second floor with a lovely and spacious balcony. When my mom was busy in the kitchen, she let me stay on the balcony watching the kids playing in the street. On that balcony I played sometimes with my elder sister, Maria. She was seven years old and when my mom was absent, she was like a mother to me. The balcony was a great hobby place for my father. After his work he used to grow carnations (康乃馨) in flower boxes. His carnations were red, pink and white, and everyone appreciated them for their beauty.

He took care of them with so much love and devotion. He dealt carefully with his flowers like a mother taking care of her baby. Many times I sat on the floor of the balcony for hours observing him and his lovely flowers with patience. He was always doing something on that balcony. He was watering them every day, cleaning the balcony floor, changing the potting soil and when the stems were thick, strong and high enough, he started his improvement operation attentively like a doctor.

My dad took a tiny knife and with his left hand he held the stem of the carnation and measured the height. Then he made a small mark on the stem with his finger. Afterwards he made a sharp cut with the knife, just enough to fit in again of barley (插穗的芽). Then he bandaged the stem with a small bandage. His job was then to water the plants and to take care of them. “No one should touch them,” he said to Mom. Every day, when he came home from work he went straight to the balcony.

Mom used to tell us, “Do not touch Daddy’s flowers.” For us it was a fascinating experience to watch how the small stems were growing and making flowers. When the carnations had grown big enough, my dad enjoyed watching them every day. We the kids did too.

One day, my elder sister, who loved Dad very much, had a great idea.

When my dad arrived, he went as usual, straight to the balcony and saw his flowers lying on the floor like dead animals.