The paper on my desk was yellow, with straight blue lines stretching across it. The lines repeated themselves all the way down the page. I counted them. Twenty-six straight lines ran across the paper. The yellow color reminded me of sunshine. In summer the sun is bright yellow like that, and the sky is blue like those lines. I loved blue — blue is for getting lost in...

“You haven’t written a word yet, have you?” Miss Perry had found me out. I hung my head, as in past years, and gave her the lines I’d given previous teachers.

“I don’t feel like it.”

The truth was that I wanted to write about something different. “Write about Your Best Friend,” demanded the assignment on the board. I didn’t have a best friend. I had a few friends, but I didn’t want to claim any of them as my “best” because I was afraid they might pick someone else. What if I picked a “best” friend and then someone different, who thought I was their best friend, heard my paragraph read aloud and then never spoke to me again? It was a stupid topic. I was disappointed in Miss Perry for choosing it.

I knew Miss Perry must have heard about me from my other teachers. I had already prepared myself for another year of listening to teachers scold me. I was only nine years old, but my ears had been dull to the voices of my elders. My teachers, my parents, and the school principal had all given me the “What are we supposed to do with you?” speech. That was probably what Miss Perry was about to say, too.

However, there was something different about Miss Perry.

I bet I was touched.

STOLEN WATCH

An old man was sitting in the park, enjoying the afternoon sunshine. A young man came around. He stood beside the old man, trying to have a chat with him.

“Sir! Remember me? I was your student, 20 years ago.”

“Oh! Son, I cannot see well these days and my memory is also becoming weak. That’s why I cannot recognize you. Come sit down. What are you doing now days?” the old man asked, making him sit lovingly.

The young man replied, “Sir, I have become a teacher just like you.”

“Wow! That’s a good thing, but a teacher’s salary is not much”, said the old man.

The young man replied, “Sir, when I was in 7th grade, an incident happened in our class. You saved me at that time.”

“What happened?” The old man asked with curiosity.

The young man replied, “Sir, there was a very rich boy in our class, while we all were not. One day he came wearing a very expensive watch and his watch was stolen. Do you remember anything?”

“7th grade?” asked the old man.

“Yes sir. That day when I saw his watch, I just liked it so much that I wanted it. So, during game period I saw him keeping his watch in his pencil box before leaving. When everyone left I picked it up. Then it was your period. When the boy came back and failed to find his watch, he complained to you about his stolen watch. You said that anyone who stole that watch should return it, and you would not punish him. But still out of fear, I didn’t dare to come forward and return that watch. Then you closed that door of the room and asked all of us to stand in a line with our eyes closed and said that you would check everyone’s pocket. No one would open his eyes until the watch was found, or else he would be expelled (开除) from school. We all stood with our eyes closed. You started checking everyone’s pocket one by one.”

The small Texas school that I attended carried out a tradition every year during the eighth grade graduation: it awarded a beautiful gold and green jacket, the school colors, to the student who had maintained the highest grade for eight years. The scholarship jacket had a big gold S on the left front side and the winner’s name was written in gold letters on the pocket. It would be a great honor for any of the students.

I was fourteen and in the eighth grade. I had been a straight A student since the first grade, and I had looked forward to owning that jacket. Even though I was quite athletic, there would never be a sports school jacket for me because of my poor family. This one, the scholarship jacket, was my only chance. But according to the school tradition, there was only one position for the top student, and Joann was my biggest opponent (对手), whose grades were enough to compare to mine. The school would make the final decision through teacher voting three days later.

One day, after a history class, another hour of sweating in basketball was coming up. Then I remembered my P.E. shorts were still in a bag under my desk where I’d forgotten them. I had to walk all the way back and get them. I was almost back at my classroom’s door when I heard the voices from Mr Schmidt, my history teacher, and Mr Boone, my math teacher They seemed to be talking about the coming voting. “Martha has straight As and you know it,” that was Mr Schmidt. Mr Boone said, “Yes, it’ tough. Joann’s father was dead in a car accident. We could say the jacket will be a huge encouragement to her ...”

The next morning, I walked into headmaster Mr Thompson’s office.

The day of the decision arrived, and the whole school gathered in the auditorium (礼堂).