A month before my first marathon, one of my ankles was injured and this meant not running for two weeks, leaving me only two weeks to train. Yet, I was determined to go ahead.

I remember back to my 7th year in school. In my first P.E. class, the teacher required us to run laps and then hit a softball. I didn’t do either well. He later informed me that I was “not athletic”.

The idea that I was “not athletic” stuck with me for years.   When I started running in my 30s, I realized running was a battle against myself, not about competition or whether or not I was athletic. It was all about the battle against my own body and mind.A test of wills!

The night before my marathon, I dreamed that I couldn’t even find the finish line. I woke up sweating and nervous, but ready to prove something to myself.

Shortly after crossing the start line, my shoe laces (鞋带) became untied.So I stopped to readjust.Not the start I wanted!

At mile 3, I passed a sign:   “GO FOR IT, RUNNERS!”

By mile 17, I became out of breath and the once injured ankle hurt badly.Despite the pain, I stayed the course walking a bit and then running again.

By mile 21, I was starving!

As I approached mile 23, I could see my wife waving a sign.She is my biggest fan.She never minded the alarm clock sounding at 4 a.m.or questioned my expenses on running.

I was one of the final runners to finish. But I finished!And I got a medal.In fact, I got the same medal as the one that the guy who came in first place had.

Determined to be myself, move forward, free of shame and worldly labels (标签), I can now call myself a “marathon winner”.

I spent my childhood collecting and pressing four-leaf clovers（四叶草）into books at my mother's house. I started with big cloth-and-leather-bound books. When I ran out of bound volumes，I began to slip my treasures into anything I could find，such as old fiction paperbacks and cookbooks. The same is true in my house today. Shake a book，and a treasure just might fall into your hand.

A few years ago，in Nova Scotia，my husband and I pulled off the road for a picnic. The ground was thick with clovers. Some shoots had four，five，or even six leaves. I lined them up on the picnic table to admire. To me，it was simple. The differences in their shapes made them stand out，breaking the pretty pattern of the common clovers with three perfect leaves.

Two summers back，while waiting for an airport shuttle in Munich，I found a tiny four-leaf clover in a traffic circle and put it in my passport. On the way home，my husband and I were upgraded to business class. All of my friends owed it to the clover. I think it's some likely that we were upgraded because a flight was postponed，which left us trapped in two cities for several hours.

People disagree about whether the luck comes for finding or possessing a clover. Some believe that the luck is lost if the four-leaf clover is shown to somebody else，while others think that the luck doubles if it is given away. I believe that positivity is compounded by sharing. I feel lucky to find the clovers so often，but I don't think they influence my life anymore than it does to share any thing a little special with a friend or a stranger.

There was a boy and his family was very rich. One day his father took him on a trip to a place. He wanted to show his son how poor people were there. They spent several days on a farm. There were many poor families living on the farm.

On their way home, the father asked the son, “How was the trip?” “It was great, Dad,” the son answered. “Did you notice how poor people were there?” asked his father. “Oh, yes,” said the son. “So, tell me,” said his father. The son said, “Well, we have one dog and they have four. We have a pool in our garden, while they have a river that has no end. We have expensive lanterns, but they have stars above their heads at night. We have only a small piece of land to live on ,while they have the endless fields. We buy our food, but they grow theirs. We have high walls around our houses to protect us, but they don’t need walls, because their friends will protect them.”

The father had nothing to say. Then the boy added, “Thank you, Dad, for letting me see how poor we are.”