Mike was an 11-year-old boy. He was the only son to his parents. His father was a carpenter and his mother was a housewife. Although they weren't rich, they led a happy life.

Mike’s school was located a mile away from his home. Mike’s birthday was coming in a week. He requested his father to buy him a bicycle so that he could go to school by bicycle. His father also promised to buy him a bicycle so that he needn't walk to school anymore. Mike felt so happy.

The birthday boy woke up happily with his parents wishing him with all smiles. He was glad and expected that his father would gift him a bicycle. His father gave him a nicely-wrapped gift. Mike opened it and saw a set of books. Although he was a little unhappy as he did not receive a bicycle, he thanked his father. Mike’s father was depressed as he did not have enough money to buy Mike a bicycle. He promised to his son that he would buy him a bicycle soon.

After a week, when Mike was walking on his way to his home back from school, he saw a boy riding a bicycle. Mike felt that the bicycle was too small for the big boy. Suddenly, the boy crashed into a post around the corner and skidded (滑行) in the street. Mike rushed to him and recognized that the boy was his schoolmate, Sam.

Sam was injured badly and there was no one nearby to help him except Mike.

Sam and his parents thanked Mike for the timely help.

It’s Best To Just Be Yourself

There is nothing like being young and eager to meet a pretty girl. I was sixteen when it first happened. Her name was Mary; she was one grade ahead and the most beautiful girl in the entire school. I was smaller than the rest of the guys my age but had many friends. I would walk by her locker (储物柜), act cool and do just about anything to gain her attention.

Nothing worked.

I often pondered to myself, How would such a beautiful and amazing girl ever fall for a guy like me? I constantly thought that if I were a “cool guy,” she would eventually have to notice. Once, I “accidentally” dropped my letter jacket by her feet, just so she would note my varsity (校队) pins一and me.

She only laughed.

Then, at a weekend gathering one evening, she was there with all of her frightening friends. I decided that this had to be it; I couldn’t live with myself one second more without at least trying to talk to her. I checked my ego at the door and decided to be myself. She was alone outside for one moment, and all I can remember is that she was so incredibly beautiful it made me dizzy. I walked up to her and said, “Hi, I’m Mark. You seem really nice; can we talk? “My belly rolled with butterflies while my head rushed with anxiety.

Time stood still for a moment.

She replied, “I know who you are; you’re different when your friends aren’t around. “And then she smiled and said, “I’m walking up the street to meet a friend. Would you like to go? “I could hardly breathe: How could this beautiful girl ever talk to a guy like me? Needless to say, we walked and talked, and she was everything I thought she would ever be. We giggled about the world and how stupid our friends and we were.

Then, to my amazement, she gave me her phone number.

We two close friends later went on to separate world-class colleges and feelings between us faded.

“Hey! Ms. Woodall!”

It was Saturday. My daughter and I were touring a model home in a new development where she and her husband had just purchased a small plot of land. She was showing me something in the backyard-the kind of landscaping she was imaging, I think—when I heard that familiar twang (鼻音) call out my name.

I turned around. Standing in the yard was a little boy, stocky, brown-haired and dusted with a fine layer of dirt. “William!” I cried in surprise. “What are you doing here?

“I’m helping my daddy lay sod (草皮),” he answered proudly, sticking his chest out. William’s father owned a lawn sodding company.

“This is William,” I told my daughter. “One of my students. He a joy to have in class.” The seven-year-old beamed, the blazing Florida sun bouncing off his round cheeks.

It was true. Little William was a delight. He adored plants and animals and playing outside during break time. And even though he struggled with his reading, he never once complained. There was a brightness he brought with him wherever he went.

I’d never forget the day in class when another student was having trouble understanding the lesson. “Don’t worry,” William told her, eyes wide and sincere. “Sometimes, second grade is really hard.” He was a gentle soul, wise beyond his years.

Still, I couldn’t help but worry. Despite his steadfast determination, William’s grades were poor. Some days, I wondered if he’d be able to pass.

“See you Monday, Ms. Woodall!” he said, running to his father’s side. My daughter and I waved, but William stayed on my mind for the rest of the weekend.

Back at school, William’s grades showed no sign of improvement. Until the last few weeks of the year, when we studied the lifecycle of plants, William excelled. As a class project, each child planted a sunflower seed in a container. Planting the seeds was exciting for many of the students, but most kids had little patience for the growing part and forgot to care for their sunflowers-to-be.

But unlike them, William had great enthusiasm all along.

About a month into the summer vacation, I happened to drive by the school.