One sunny afternoon, I was playing in the backyard when I noticed a beautiful shiny piece of paper lying on the table. It was leftover aluminum foil (锡纸) from a package my mum had opened. I picked it up and was immediately attracted by its sparkling appearance. Curiosity got the best of me, and I couldn’t help but ask my dad about it.

“Dad, what is this paper called? It’s so shiny and beautiful!” I inquired, holding the aluminum foil up for him to see.

My dad chuckled and replied, “That’s. called aluminum foil, and it has many uses.”

Naturally, my curiosity was piqued (激发), and I eagerly asked, “What can it be used for?”

My dad smiled and said, “Why don’t you research it yourself? It’ll be a great opportunity for you to learn something new. ”

With a sense of excitement, I grabbed my phone and started researching on the Internet. I found out that it is a type of metal paper called aluminum foil, which is moisture-proof(防潮的). As I looked through the information, an idea popped into my head. What if I put some water in a small aluminum foil container and heated it in the microwave? Would the water boil?

Unable to resist the urge to experiment, I cut a piece of aluminum foil and folded it into a small square container. I added some water into the container and placed it in the microwave. With my eyes wide open, I anxiously watched the aluminum foil container, filled with anticipation. But before I could see any changes in the water, suddenly a burst of fire erupted from the microwave, surprising me. I quickly rushed to unplug the appliance and collapsed onto the floor, feeling a great fear.

What is a family? Why does it matter? What does it teach us that we can’t learn on our own? These questions seem especially relevant in the holiday season when it is often our tradition to gather as families and celebrate together.

I don’t recall getting many gifts from them. I remember the sense of belonging, of being part of something that assured me I was loved and not alone.

I delighted in the laughing, playing and fighting with my crazy cousins.I watched my granddad and uncles sit on the porch , rain or shine, smoking and joking, arguing about politics and trying to solve the problems of the world.I listened to my grandmother, mother and aunts stir   pots on the stove and talk about their lives, hopes, dreams and disappointments, and gossip about any sister who failed to show up.The food was always plentiful and delicious. But for me, the food was never the highlight. The highlight was simply being together.

A family should be always separated？

When it comes to“together”, it occurred to me that

No matter how small you are, you can also give help or support to others. I didn5t understand these words until I saw my grandfather weep that day.

I grew up in Southern California, and my family often went to Disneyland, Knott's Berry Farm, and Sea World. The highlight of those park visits for me was always the evening activities» when there would be fireworks.

As I grew older and more observant, I noticed that my grandfather would go missing just before the fireworks were scheduled to start and reappear shortly after they finished. I asked my mother about this and was told that Grandpa didn't like to hear the noise of the explosions. They reminded him of the war and his fellows who died in the war. So every time there was fireworks 9 he would go inside the bathrooms until they were done. I felt surprised because my grandfather was such a strong man.

One summer night, somewhere near my tenth birthday, my family and I exited a ride just in time to hear over the loudspeakers, “In only two minutes, the lights will be turned off around the Rivers of America, and Disneyland will present their fireworks in the skies over the park.” At this moment, Grandpa was just in front of me, and when he heard the announcement, he started jogging ahead without a word to anyone. Without really thinking, I took off after him, against the orders of my mother, who repeatedly called after me to stay with the rest of the family. Grandpa, unaware that I was behind him, tried desperately to walk through the masses of people who were stopped in the street waiting for the show to begin.

As he tried to reach the restrooms, the first shell broke in the skies above us. Grandpa paused and looked up, just looking as if he had been hit by a shot. And then he kept moving forward. As shell after shell burst overhead, he struggled forward and almost fell over before he could sit onto a bench nearby.

Instantly, I went forward and was by his side.

When the fireworks show ended, he straightened suddenly and wiped the tears.