That cold January night, I was growing sick of my life in San Francisco. There I was, walking home at one in the morning after a tiring practice at the theater. With opening night only a week away, I was still learning my lines. I was having trouble dealing with my part-time job at the bank and my acting at night at the same time. As I walked, I thought seriously about giving up both acting and San Francisco. City life had become too much for me.

As I walked down empty streets under tall buildings, I felt very small and cold. I began running, both to keep warm and to keep away any possible robbers (抢劫犯). Very few people were still out except a few sad-looking homeless people under blankets.

About a block from my apartment, I heard a sound behind me. I turned quickly, half expecting to see someone with a knife or a gun. The street was empty. All I saw was a shining streetlight. Still, the noise had made me nervous, so I started to run faster. Not until I reached my apartment building and unlocked the door did I realize what the noise had been. It had been my wallet falling to the sidewalk.

Suddenly I wasn’t cold or tired anymore. I ran out of the door and back to where I’d heard the noise. Although I searched the sidewalk anxiously for fifteen minutes, my wallet was nowhere to be found.

Where there is a will, there is a way.

Thirteen, for me, was a challenging year. I moved to a now town with my father, far from my old family and friends, I was terribly lonely and would cry myself to sleep each night. To ease my sadness, my father purchased an old horse for me at a local auction. I named him Cowboy.

Cowboy was undoubtedly the ugliest horse in the world. But I didn’t care. I loved him beyond all reason.

I joined a riding club and suffered rude comments and mean snickers about Cowboy’s looks. I never let on about how I felt, but deep inside, my heart was breaking. The other members rode beautiful, registered horses.

When Cowboy and I entered the events where the horse is judged on appearance, we were quickly shown the gate. No amount of preparation and love would turn Cowboy into a beauty. My only chance to compete would be in the speed events. I chose the jumping race.

One girl named Becky rode a big brown horse in the race events. She always won the blue ribbons. Needless to say, she didn’t feel threatened when I competed against her at the next show. She didn’t need to. I came in next to last.

The stinging memory of Becky’s smirks(得意的笑) made me determined to beat her. For the whole next month I woke up early every day and rode Cowboy five miles to the arena(竞技场). We practiced running and jumping for hours in the hot sun and then I would walk Cowboy home totally exhausted.

All of our hard work didn’t make me feel confident by the time the show came. I sat at the gate and sweated it out while I watched Becky and her horse charge through the course and finish in first place.