My best friend Lily and I met in high school. Ever since then, we had spent New Year’s Eve together. We’d watch together on TV the New Year celebration in Times Square, a the world-renowned tradition for millions to welcome the new year. Every year,   thousands of people will gather in Times Square New York in person on New Year’s Eve counting down to the new year, with celebrations and performances after midnight. And we’d always say that one day we should go there ourselves.

Then we both went to college. Struggling through exams and schoolwork, we had little time to meet up. We missed each other terribly and decided it was time: to finally go to New York ourselves, to be present at the New Year’s celebration, and to do something fun together.

We worked out our schedule, bought tickets for everything and, most importantly, planned how to survive the long hours of waiting in the biting cold before the celebration — we wanted the best spot possible, and there’s only so much space, so we had no choice but to get to the Time Square early.

When the big day finally arrived, it became snowy and colder than any cold we had ever experienced. Actually it was one of the coldest New Year’s Eves on record. Everyone thought we were going to back out.

But we didn’t. We didn’t make it that far to back out.

We woke up and set off early. And, of course, we did freeze along the way, but we kept cheering each other up. Once we got there, we found our way to the line pretty quickly, considering everyone else was pushing their way in the same direction. We got in line and waited to finally get into our area in the Time Square, which thankfully was pretty spacious and close to the stage.

One morning this summer holiday, I was running on the road when I saw an elderly foreign lady waving her phone at me, speaking to me in a foreign language. Obviously, she didn’t speak English at all. When I listened to her more carefully, I found she was speaking German. She was clearly lost and trying to walk to the house where she lived. She showed me screen shots of maps on her phone as if she wanted me to help her find her way home. Actually, I learned some German in my spare time because our school will have German classes the next term. However, I was so poor at it that it was almost useless in practice.

I studied nearby and I knew my classmate, Lisa, who was good at speaking German. So I decided to telephone her. “Hi, Lisa. I came across a German lady. Do you have time to come and act as a translator now?” I said and then sent her my location, Unfortunately, Lisa answered, “Sorry, Belle. I’m shopping now. I can reach your place in about half an hour.” Hearing that, I had to tell her that I could manage myself.

Suddenly, an idea flashed through my mind. I downloaded a translation app and used the voice function to translate what the lady said into English. Just in this way, I learned that she came here to visit her daughter who was new to the city to teach. And I also determined the address she needed to get to. It was not far from here to her house, so I offered to walk with her to her destination. She was greatly grateful to me and kept saying sorry for taking my time.

When we got to the house, her daughter just came back. She was as touched by my kindness as her mother. I kept reminding her that it was no trouble for me, and that I only intend-ed to make sure her mother got there safely.

Walking with the lady was more rewarding than running alone. Despite having to rely on technology to communicate due to the language barrier, I felt lucky to have been able to help her. When I left, I couldn’t wait to share the wonderful experience with Lisa.

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No sooner had I picked up my phone than Lisa called me.

When the German teacher entered the classroom in the new term, I felt I’d seen her somewhere before.

It was April 5th, a lovely spring morning. The air was fresh. The trees were green and the birds were singing happily. Police officer Tidwell left the station just after 8 a.m. on such a beautiful morning. He had spent a boring night on duty and was looking forward to his day of rest. By habit he took a short-cut down the path behind Dugby Hall road. It was quiet at this time of a day. Tidwell walked slowly, enjoying the fresh morning air. But after a minute or two he saw a man climbing down a drainpipe (雨水管) from an open bedroom window of Number 29. In silence, Tidwell crept into the garden. Tidwell watched for a while and waited for the man to climb down slowly off the wall. The man reached the ground and was dusting himself down when he felt his arm caught.

“It’s 8:15 on a Sunday morning,” said the officer, “and this sort of thing seems an unlikely adventure at such a time. Would you mind explaining?” Tidwell spoke with a serious voice of a police officer, holding the man tightly at the same time.

The man was obviously scared. He struggled for a while and then said, “I know what you are thinking, officer, but it isn’t true. This is a funny mistake.”

Tidwell did not believe his words at all but he said to the man, “It’s part of my job to take an interest in unusual events. I think you’ve just left this house in a manner other than the customary one. That may be quite innocent, but I’d like to make sure.” Tidwell took out his notebook and a pen. “Name, address and occupation and then, please, tell me your story...”

“Charlie Crane, lorry driver, from Nottingham, 51 Breton Street. My story…”

“Yes. What were you doing like a fly on that wall, Mr. Crane?”

The man explained that he had a breakdown yesterday and had to stay the night here.

“Mr. Crane, what are you doing here?” A woman’s voice came behind them suddenly.