Jenny was a pretty eight-year-old girl.

One day when she and her mother were checking out at the grocery store, Jenny saw a plastic pearl necklace, by which she was totally defeated. How eagerly she wanted it! But when he saw the price, her heart sank a little. She gathered up her courage and asked her mother if she would buy it for her, her mother said, “Well, it is a pretty necklace, but it costs an awful lot of money. I can buy you the necklace, but when we get home we should make up a list of housework that you can do to pay for the necklace.” Jenny agreed immediately, feeling a burst of joy. So her mother bought the pearl necklace for her. Jenny worked on her housework determinedly and earnestly every day. Soon Jenny had paid off the pearls.

Jenny had a very loving daddy. When Jenny went to bed, he would read Jenny her favorite story. One night when he finished the story, he said, “Jenny, do you love me?” “Oh yes, Daddy, you know I love you,” the little girl said delightedly, with a broad smile on her face. “Well, then, give me your pearls.” Hearing that, Jenny froze there, an anxious expression twisting her face. “Oh! Daddy, not my pearls! But you can have Rosy, my favorite doll. Remember her? You gave her to me last year for my birthday. Okay?” “Oh no, darling, that's okay.” Her father brushed her cheek with a kiss, gently and calmly. “Good night, little one.”

A week later, her father once again asked Jenny after her story, “Do you love me?” “Oh yes, Daddy, you know I love you.” the little girl murmured softly, trying to escape from her father’s eyes. “Well, then, give me your pearls.” “Oh, Daddy, not my pearls! But you can have Ribbons, my toy horse. Do you remember her? She's my favorite.” The little girl begged. “No, that's okay,” her father said, smiling broadly and sweetly and brushed her cheek again with a kiss. “God bless you, little one. Sweet dreams.”

Several days later, when Jenny's father came in to read her a story, Jenny

Holding the plastic pearl his daughter offered, the father dragged out a blue box.

Beautiful Birthmarks: The Power of Acceptance

Whenever you hear the word “birthmark (胎记)”, you probably think of one of those black or brown spots you have somewhere on your body. However, for me, it’s completely different — I have them both on my lips and inside my mouth, which make them quite visible and, to me, ugly. When

I was young, these birthmarks kept making me feel extremely awkward and self-conscious (难为情的). As these birthmarks always drew a lot of attention, people often asked me, “What are those black marks on your lips?” When I told people that they were birthmarks, they usually said, “How strange！”

In pictures, I used to hide my birthmarks by pursing (噘起) my lips, so I would not have to deal with people’s questions. As I was growing up, the situation didn’t get any better. In the school, my classmates would always tease me, making me feel hurt and helpless. In society, I often encountered individuals who would inquire about my birthmarks even before they knew my name.

Such experiences left me feeling disheartened. I felt like people judged me by my appearance without considering my personality.

My birthmarks are caused by a genetic condition from my mom’s side of the family. My mom’s mom has birthmarks on her lips, and my mom’s uncle and my uncle have some on their bodies. I used to try to cover them up with makeup, but it never looked good. I even consulted a doctor, wanting to have surgery to remove them. But when imagining the process, I would get nervous and eventually give up.

Whenever I cried to my mom about them, she would always comfort me and say, “Learn to accept them and see them as beautiful birthmarks.” However, it wasn’t easy for me to accept my own birthmarks. Every time I showed my birthmarks, people would look at me with strange eyes. I began to regret why I had given up on the surgery and chosen to accept my birthmarks.

One day, I met my cousin, who also had a large birthmark on his arm._

From then on, when I met people, I began to change myself.

When Cassandra Ridder picked up her son Brody from school, the boy wasn’t his usual happy-go-lucky self.

Cassandra said that the sixth graders didn’t want to talk about his day and only wanted to listen to music. To lighten his mood, she asked him about his yearbook (毕业纪念册). Earlier that day, the mom had received an email, informing parents that students would be bringing their class yearbooks home. She was curious if Brody got lots of signatures.

But when she brought it up, her son got really sad. He said, “No, Mom, no one really signed my yearbook. I asked people and they either told me no or that they would do it later, and that they were too busy for me.”

When Brody handed over his yearbook, Cassandra’s heart sank. The page was almost empty, except for a couple of messages from his teachers and two students’ names. To fill in the space, Brody had written a note to himself that read “Hope you make some more friends”, and had signed his own name.

“I tried to make him feel better,” said Cassandra. “I told him that it might have just been a busy day, and to give people the benefit of the doubt. I told him that things will get better and to stay positive, and that no matter what, I would always be his friend.”

Upon discovering what happened with Brody’s yearbook, Cassandra decided to do something. That night, she wrote a post on the Internet for parents. She wanted to let the other parents know this was happening at the school and remind them they should talk to their kids about being kind to one another.

“My poor son feel sad. Despite Brody’s asking all kinds of kids to sign it, two teachers and a total of two students wrote in his yearbook, her post read.” So Brody took it upon himself to write to himself. My heart is broken.

Cassandra didn’t expect too much from the post.

The headmaster Mr Rudd also knew of Brody’s story.