Alexa and Brittany were best friends. They’d known each other since Brittany moved next door in 2nd grade. They hung out almost every day after school when they were getting along.

They were very different people. Alexa did great with her school work, read a lot of books, and took ballet classes. Brittany, on the other hand, would rather play soccer, chat with other kids at school, and rarely sat still for long enough to finish reading a chapter of a book.

Often, Alexa and Brittany would play together at the park across the street. They’d play on the equipment, or play soccer. If it was raining outside, they’d go in one of their houses to play video games, or do their nails. Some days they could spend hours together without a single problem, but other days they just could not agree on what to do.

One day, Alexa said. “Come on, let’s play on the equipment. We’ve played soccer for the last three days!”

“They just cut the grass, I love playing soccer when the grass is nice and short. I don’t want to play on the equipment,” Brittany replied.

“We always do what you want to do, Brittany. It’s my turn to choose.” Alexa was getting frustrated.

“Fine, go play on the equipment by yourself! I’m playing soccer,” Brittany shouted.

Alexa left. She was really angry. When she got home, she realized she still had Brittany’s notebook. “Well, I’m not giving it back today. I’m too mad at her.” Alexa thought.

The next day at school, their teacher asked for their notebooks. Brittany didn’t have hers, and asked Mrs. Stone if she could bring it in tomorrow instead. Mrs. Stone let them have just one late assignment a month, but Brittany had already used hers. Brittany looked upset. Alexa was having an internal (内心的) conflict. She knew she should tell Mrs. Stone that she had the notebook, but she was still mad at Brittany for not agreeing with her at the park yesterday. At last, she decided to admit her mistake.

When it was time for lunch, Alexa talked with Mrs. Stone.

After school, Mrs. Stone sat down and talked with the two girls.

My best friend Carla Hernandez called me on Thursday afternoon. She asked me to meet her in the park near the playground five minutes later. She said she had a great idea! This worried me because Carla’s great ideas almost always meant big trouble for me!

I rushed outside and jogged to the park. When I saw Carla, my heart sank because her huge dog Perro was with her. I liked everything about Carla except Perro. I’d never had a pet, so I felt uncomfortable and nervous around animals. I was embarrassed to say that I was afraid of Carla’s dog. Carla smiled. “Isn’t this the perfect location for a pet show?” she asked. “All the kids in the neighborhood can show off their pets’ talents and demonstrate the things they do well. There are plenty of comfortable benches (长椅) for our parents and friends to sit on. And since you don’t have a pet to enter into the show, you will be the announcer.”

“I’m sorry,” I apologized, “but that’s impossible! Crowds made me nervous and unsure. Besides, I didn’t like animals, remember?” “That’s nonsense,” said Carla. “There’s nothing to be concerned about because you’ll be great!” Carla encouraged me to be brave and confident. But just then, Perro leaped up, slobbered all over (毫不掩饰地表示喜爱) me, and almost knock me down. “Down, Perro! Stay!” I shouted. Perro sat as still as a statue. “Wow, you’re good at that,” said Carla. She thought I was talented at giving orders to pets, and asked me to get started with her immediately because we would have a lot to do.

By Saturday morning I had practiced announcing each pet’s act a hundred times. I felt my heart pounding by the time the audience arrived. The size of the crowd made me feel even more anxious. When the show began, I announced the first pet, nervously. It was a bird named Butter whose talent was walking back and forth on a wire. When Butter finished, everyone clapped and cheered. So far, everything was perfect.

I was beginning to feel calmer and more relaxed.

This was a disaster, and I had to do something.

When I first met George, I was in my early thirties, trying to find something creative to getaway from the boring housework and raising little ones. My children, then aged three and five, were just entering kindergarten and school life.

At 55, George had recently retired and was seeking a rewarding hobby for his golden years. For both of us, painting was “it”, and we met at a local painting class. Thus we began a friendship that was to last for 25 years, until the day he died.

George was a man who lived life to the fullest; he worked hard, played hard and had an opinion about everything. He loved his family and friends, took pride in his fitness and health and walked three kilometers every day. And as the only male in a painting class full of women, George ruled the roost and we were his hens. He looked after everyone with the same attention.

He took to painting with a great passion and commitment, even transforming the spare bedroom of his home into a studio. His painting equipment was comprehensive — an easel (画架), quality paints, brushes, palette, canvases, charcoal pencils, etc. George housed many of these items in a red metal tool box with original shop sticker with the price. Not fancy, but shiny and very red.

For about six years, George and I studied together until the completion of the course drew us apart. We kept in touch as we lived within a couple of kilometers of each other. I would sometimes see him on his daily work or at local shops, and occasionally we’d chat over afternoon tea.

Last year,George was about 80 years old. He rang one day and asked me to come to his house. While his wife Dorothy served tea and cake, George explained that he was giving up painting and giving away all his stuff.