Caught in a flood

Mary and her parents were downstairs in the living room. Mary was looking through the windows at the endless rain outside. It had been raining non-stop for three days. She had never seen a storm this bad. It was making her nervous. The wind roared the rain beat on the roof and windows. Dad was listening to a weather report on the radio, while Mum was putting their important documents and disaster supplies into a bag.

“Mum, Dad,” said Mary suddenly, “I think we should leave here right away!”

“No” said Dad. “It’s too late! The radio says the city has already been flooded.”

“We can drive our car through the floodwater! Let’s just leave! I’m really scared!” cried Mary. “We can’t do that, honey,” explained Mum, “otherwise the moving water could wash the caraway!”

Mary walked to the door. She was curious to see how much water there was outside.

“Don’t open the door!” shouted Mum and Dad at the same time. “The water may flood in!”

Dad moved the dinner table against the door, in case the floodwater forced the door open. Mum waved to Mary to sit on the sofa. “Mary, don’t worry. Everything’s going to be OK,” she said softly, trying her best to comfort Mary. Her voice was calm, but Mary could tell she was worried too.

Without saying a single word, Dad walked to the sofa, sat down and hugged his wife and daughter. The sudden silence in the house seemed to make the wind and rain more frightening outside. What could they do?

Para 1: After a brief discussion, Mum and Dad made a decision.

Para 2: Finally, the rain stopped.

Avoiding people in a small town requires the skills of a spy. So Brad Ryan moved like a ghost, taking precautions to stay far away from the woman who he thought had broken his heart. He had not seen or spoken to Grandma Joy for six years.

One day, he received a call from his mom, saying his elder sister had announced her engagement and a wedding date had been set for a Duncan Falls church. Brad’s heart sank. because Grandma Joy would be there. But he loved his sister, and there was no way he’d miss the wedding.

Despite Joy Ryan’s first name, there were lots of sufferings and regrets instead of joy in her life, She grew up in a home with no electricity, running water or plumbing. She attended a one-room schoolhouse, And she suffered the loss of two sons. She was a widow (寡妇)for 14 years, She lived a small life that stopped at the edge of the county line. And she’d never had the chance to see what she called the great outdoors other than a trip ta see relatives in Louisiana.

“My earliest memory of her is when I was 3.” said Brad. “We’d walk to Blue Rock State Park, which is close in her house She’d help me lift rocks in the creek (小溪)to find crawfish. We’d hold them in our hands and talk about how beautiful it was being in nature. No one in my family thought like that.”

However. as Brad entered adolescence, he was growing emotionally distant from his family. with occasional quarrels. One day. a violent conflict broke out between Brad and his father. Brad turned to his grandma, hoping for help or just a kind word. But he got neither. He found Grandma Joy is in his father’s side. “That was the end of my relationship with Grandma Joy.” he said

At the wedding venue, on seeing Grandma Joy. thin and gaunt (憔悴的). Brad found himself thinking a lot about her and the happy time they spent together. It puzzled him why that memory in particular stayed with him. Now grandma. 78, walked unsteadily into the Duncan Falls church.

Brad hesitantly walked over to her.

After that day, Brad decided not to leave any regrets in his grandma’s life.

I was packing lunch for my two children and myself when I suddenly began to doubt whether this was necessary. It was so early in the day it was still dark outside, and I was making sandwiches. I thought about just sending lunch money and getting an extra half hour of sleep. Being a single mom, I needed all the shut-eye I could get.

So why was I adding this stress to my life? It’s all because of genetics (遗传).

I remember my grandmother telling me how, many years ago, she packed leftovers (剩饭) for my grandfather’s lunch. He loved them but always seemed to come home hungry. Finally after much questioning, he admitted he had been giving away half his lunch to a co-worker who had none of his own. From that day forward, my grandmother always sent extra—just in case.

With five kids in school at the same time, my mom didn’t have time to pack lunches. We ate cafeteria food, which was fine with us. In the world of our primary school, it was not cool to bring your lunch from home. There was an exception to the no-pack rule, however. As a punishment, we were forced to bring our own lunch for however many days my mom chose to keep us. My time of suffering came in third grade. I had broken the rules. For four days, my noontime dinner consisted of a cheese and mustard sandwich, a bag of chips and one lonely cookie. By Friday my mom changed her mind. And although I still brought my lunch from home, she packed it for me.

That afternoon I opened my lunchbox to find my favorite egg salad sandwich, a choice apple and a whole giant cake with a note taped on top: “Just in case you want to share.” To my 10-year-old eyes, that cake looked big enough to feed the world. I was in heaven as I offered piece after piece to my friends. It was the best lunch of my life.

As I continued packing lunch for my kids, I thought about my grandmother and mother.     

I emptied my own packed lunch on the table and divided it between the children, then made two more sandwiches.