As I stood in line waiting to cash out at a “pack your own” kind of store, where customers pack their items by themselves, I stared at the customer in front of me reading the magazines. She was young, but she already had a tired look to her, with head bent forwards—as if life had beaten her down too many times.

Her face looked pale from extreme tiredness. Her winter coat was thin and unbuttoned. The well-worn scarf around her throat probably did little to protect it from the cold weather. Her hands turning a few pages, were rough and red. When I looked down at her boots, I could see a small piece of a clear plastic bag partially visible through a hole in her left boot.

The items in her cart (购物车) included the cheapest cuts of meat and some things like rice and potatoes. There were also lots of noodles. Day-old bread, inexpensive soap, and tissues on sale—well, almost. In a far corner sat a little toy and a pretty dress that was 50 percent off.

She continued to look at the magazines as we waited, and more people lined up behind us. She finally took one out and turned it over several times, trying to find a price before finally turning to me.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” she began in a shy and nervous tone. “But can you tell me how much this is? I forgot my glasses at home.”

“Of course” I said with a smile.

When I finally found the small print and told her, she shook her head and put it back.

“They’ve become so expensive, haven’t they?” I said sympathetically.

“Next!” The cashier called in a gentle voice before she could answer, and she moved forward to begin her transaction(交易)

When told the cost, the woman’s face paled.

I approached the cashier and whispered “Include her removed items in my bill, please.”

Two men, who were both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room. One man had to spend all his time lying flat on his back. His roommate was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour a day and his bed was next to the room’s only window.

The men talked for hours on end. They talked about everything in their life. But always, the best subject was the time when his roommate described all the things he could see outside the window.

The man lying on the bed would live for those one—hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activities and color of the outside world. His roommate had said out of the window was a park with a lovely lake. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Lovers walked arm in arm among flowers of every color. Old trees graced the landscape, and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance. As the roommate by the window described all this in detail, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine the scene.

One warm afternoon the roommate by the window described a parade passing by. Although the other man could not hear the band, he could imagine it in his mind as his roommate by the window described it.

Unexpectedly, an alien thought entered his head: Why should he have all the pleasure of seeing everything while I never get to see anything? It didn’t seem fair. As the thought fermented(发酵), the man felt ashamed at first. But as the days passed and he missed seeing more sights, his envy became resentment and soon turned him sour. These dark thoughts made himself unable to sleep. He should be by that window and that thought now controlled his life.

One night the man, whose bed was near the window, died peacefully during sleep.

But when he took his first look out of the window, he found it faced a blank wall.

“Mom! I’m home!” John closed the door and dropped his books on a nearby chair. “Hi, John, home already?” His mom turned around.

“It’s spring. I was thinking more of our annual spring cleaning,” John’s mom suggested. “Tomorrow is Saturday. Let’s do some cleaning, okay?” “Okay,” John agreed unwillingly.

The next day, they cleaned upstairs, downstairs, inside, outside, until everything was spotless. Tired, they sank into the couch. Pointing to Grandpa’s chair, John’s mom exclaimed, “Oh my! That old chair has got to go. We’ll buy Grandpa a new one.” John’s grandpa lived with them since Grandma had died. “John, Let’s take the chair to the curb (马路边). Tomorrow the garbage truck is picking up on our block.”

As they attempted to move the chair, Grandpa walked by dragging his feet through the door and quickly blocked their way. “Oh, no!” he protested. “You can’t take my chair.”

“It’s old and worn. We’ll buy you a new one,” John’s mom argued.

“No,” John’s grandpa persisted, trying to push his chair back into place. “I don’t want a new one,” his voice trembled.

John’s mom had to give up and said she would discuss it with John’s dad, who was still at work. John’s mom left the living room to prepare the dinner. With a sigh of relief, the old man sank into his chair and closed his eyes.

“Grandpa, why won’t you let us get rid of the chair? It’s so old,” John asked his grandpa when his mom left the room.

“You don’t understand, John,” Grandpa shook his head from side to side. After a long pause he said, “I sat in this chair, with your grandma right here, when I asked her to marry me. When I sit in this chair and close my eyes I feel she is near.” Grandpa softly stroked (轻抚) the arm of the chair. “And the night your father was born, I sat in this chair. I was nervous and scared when they placed the tiny baby into my arms, yet I was never happier.” A smile flashed across his old face.

“I think I’m beginning to understand,” John said thoughtfully. “The chair gave you comfort and warmth. This is not just a chair. It is more like a friend.” However, that night when John and his grandpa were asleep, John’s mom and dad carried the chair to the curb.

The next morning, when John came downstairs, his grandpa stood by the window and looked outside sadly.

Seeing John rescue the chair from the garbage men, his mom turned and looked at John’s grandpa.