My dad, George, only had an eighth grade education. A quiet man, he didn’t understand my world of school activities. From age 14, he worked. And his dad, Albert, took the money my dad earned and used it to pay family expenses.

I didn’t really understand his world either: He was a livestock trucker, and I thought that I would surpass (超过) anything he had accomplished by the time I walked across the stage at high school graduation.

Summers in the mid-70s were spent at home shooting baskets, hitting a baseball, or throwing a football, preparing for my future as a quarterback on a football team. In poor weather, I read about sports or practiced my trombone (长号).

The summer before my eighth grade I was one of a group of boys that a neighboring farmer hired to work in his field. He explained our basic task, the tractor fired up and we were off, riding down the field looking for weeds to spray with chemicals. After a short way, the farmer stopped and pointed at a weed which we missed. Then we began again. This happened over and over, but we soon learned to identify different grasses like cockleburs, lamb’s-quarters, foxtails, and the king of weeds, the pretty purple thistle. It was tiring work, but I looked forward to the pay, even though I wasn’t sure how much it would amount to.

At home, my dad said, “A job’s a big step to growing up. I’m glad you will be contributing to the household.” My dad’s words made me realize that my earnings might not be mine to do with as I wished.

My labors lasted about two weeks, and the farmer said there might be more work, but I wasn’t interested. I decided it was not fair that I had to contribute my money.

Grandma Agnes is ninety-nine years old and still live in the same house a he's lived in for more than sixty years. She was one of thirteen children raised on a farm. And now. she is rather set in her ways,

For twelve years, Grandma ages enjoyed the c or up any of her dog, Snoopy. The black and white spotted must was a constant presence in her home and her yard. During the time that she had Snoopy, Grandma Agnes started showing signs of dementia. My family worked together to keep her living independently but safe.

It was difficult for my dad the day he pulled the battery from her car to keep her from using her still valid driver's license, Every visit after that day, Grandma Agnes would insist that he buy her a new car battery because hers was dead again. Dad nodded and agreed to do it, knowing that the conversation would soon be forgotten.

Three years ago. Snoopy passed away, My dad. Aunt Carol and Uncle Ed thought of ways to ensure that Grandma Agnes would know that Snoopy was gone, They had burial service in the back yard with Grandma. Uncle Ed printed a picture of Snoopy with “Rest in Peace” written across the bottom and stuck it to the refrigerator, But on the daily visits. Grandma Agnes still asked about Snoopy, She accused the neighbors of taking her dog because she was sure that she heard bin barking from their yard.

Having a family member with dementia is heartbreaking and trying. For every visit I've made in the past five years, my dad has made a point to tell me that she probably won't remember who I am nor that my kids are her great grandchildren, I've sat through conversations where we patiently repeated answers to questions that were answered a few moment sago. Grandma Agnes is still there. and she's still her stubborn self. but she doesn't grasp the world around her, And yet she insists on living independently and asking about Snoopy constantly.

A few months ago, Uncle Ed came up with good idea and bought a robotic dog for Grandma Ages.

Everyone in our family is pleased that Grandma Agnes has been so kind to Snoopy.

Once, there was a poor boy. He made a living by selling things from door to door. Through this, he could earn some money to pay for his school.

One day, as he was walking from house to house as usual, he felt very hungry and weak. He felt that he couldn't walk even a few steps. He decided to ask for food at a house. So he knocked at the door. He was amazed to see a very beautiful young girl open the door for him. He asked the girl for a glass of water instead of a meal.

The young girl thought he must be hungry and thirsty. So she offered him a huge glass of milk. With a surprised look, the boy drank the milk very slowly. At once, he felt he was full of energy.

"How much do I pay you for this milk?" he asked the girl.

"I do not want any money for this," she replied. "Morn has taught me never to accept pay for a kindness."

The boy thanked the girl from the bottom of his heart and left the place. As the boy left that house, he felt stronger physically. He thought he must do something else to help others.

Years passed by quickly. Both the boy and the young girl grew up. In the girl's youth, unluckily, she fell ill. She suffered from an uncommon disease. It was hard for the local doctors to cure her. Even many doctors with rich experience didn't know how to cure her. Finally, she was sent to a hospital in a big city. There were many excellent doctors and the most advanced skills in the hospital.

Dr. Kevin was a well-known doctor. He was called in by the hospital to examine the girl. When he heard the name of the town that she came from, a strange light filled his eyes. Immediately, he rose and went down through the hospital hall into her room.

He recognized the girl at once.

Dr. Kevin asked the business office to pass the final bill to him.