I have been worrying for weeks now about what to give my mother for Mother's Day. For most people, this is a modest problem, solved by the purchase of a bathrobe or a box of candy. For me, however, Mother's Day represents an annual challenge to do the impossible—find a gift that will make neither Mama nor me feel terrible.

Expensive gifts which Mama defines as costing over $10 are out, because they make Mama feel terrible. "This is awful, " she once said, examining an apron. "I feel just terrible. You shouldn't have spent that much on it." Inexpensive presents - under $10—please Mama, but they make me feel terrible.

The story always goes this way: a gift given to Mama will bounce swiftly back to me. If I buy her something wearable, she perceives in an instant that it could be let in here, let out there, and it would fit me perfectly. If I give her a plant, she cuts off the top for me to take home and root in a glass of water. If I give her something edible, she wants me to stay for lunch and eat it.

Papa, a sensible man, long ago stopped trying to shop for Mama. Instead, on Mother's Day, her birthday, and other appropriate occasions, he composes a short romantic poem in which he tells of their meeting, unforgettable things, and marriage. After nearly 30 years of poems, Papa sometimes worries that the edge of his poetic inspiration has dulled, but Mama doesn't complain. She comes into the room while he is struggling over a gift poem and says, "It doesn't have to rhyme as long as it's from the heart."

This year, finally, I think I, too, have found a painless gift for Mama. I am going to give her a magazine article, unrhymed but from the heart, in which I wish her "Happy Mother's Day" and tell her there's nothing Papa or I could ever buy, find, or make her that would be half good enough anyway.

Picture a proposal (求婚) and romance, and rings come to mind - not a conversation about organs. But when Craig asked Sadie to marry him in Naples in 2018, it was kidneys that resulted in the talk of marriage.

It had all started with snoring. When the couple moved in together in 2010, Sadie realized Craig's night-time noises were a problem. At first it didn't seem to be serious. But after months of examinations, he was diagnosed as IgA Nephropathy, a chronic kidney disease, says Sadie. “It was incurable and would have a long-term impact on his health. “The diagnosis was a bomb - we were facing the fact that this would change his life.”

Unfortunately, by 2016 his condition was worsening. Craig recalls: “I was getting incredibly tired. I'd come home from work and fall on the sofa, asleep for hours." Still, it came as a huge shock to them both when in March 2019 the couple were told that Craig had two options: a kidney transplant or dialysis.

Sadie remembers. “This wasn't a decision for five years' time - he had to make it now. He's Australian, So all his family were on the other side of the world. My response was clear and immediate - you can have one of mine.”

Craig says: “When I saw her reply, I was struck with guilt. Sadie is such a selfless person, I wasn't surprised that she wanted to help.” After witnessing the terrifying reality of dialysis, Sadie became more determined to do so.

Sadly, because they had different blood types, Sadie couldn't be a direct donor but then they learned about the Kidney Sharing Scheme. “It's a bit like a kidney swap-shop based on blood, tissue and antibody tests,” says Sadie. Then finally, with the help of the scheme, in May 2019, they were matched. On July 10, 2019, they both checked into hospital and both operations went smooth.

“Sadie is the most amazing, selfless person I’ve ever met. Now we can live life again, together, and it’s all because of her.” Craig says.

It feels like every time my mother and I start to have a conversation, it turns into an argument. We talk about something as simple as dinner plans and suddenly, my mother will push the conversation into World War III. She’ll talk about my lack of a bright future because I don’t plan to be a doctor. And much to her disappointment, I don’t want to do any job related to science, either. In fact, when I was pushed to say that I planned to major(主修) in English and communications, she nearly had a heart attack.

“Why can’t you be like my co-worker’s son?” she bemoans all the time. Her co-worker’s son received a four-year scholarship and is now earning 70,000 dollars a year as an engineer. I don’t know what to answer except that I simply can’t be like Mr. Perfect as I’ve called the unnamed co-worker’s son. I can’t be like him. I’m the type of person who loves to help out in the community, write until the sun goes down, and most of all, wants to achieve a career because I love it, not because of fame (名声) or salary.

I understand why my mother is worried about my future major. I’ve seen my mother struggle to raise me on her small salary and work long hours. She leaves the house around 6:30 am and usually comes home around 5 pm or even 6 pm. However, I want her to know that by becoming a doctor, it doesn’t mean I’ll be successful. I’d rather follow my dreams and create my own future.