Growing up, my parents and older brothers all smoked. Being a child of the 80s, it was normal for the adults to be smoking inside and during trips in the car. There just wasn’t the same awareness of the dangers of second-hand smoke exposure that there is today.

I remember the day when I started smoking. I was 11. I was trying to impress one of the “bad boys” at school. I stole tobacco from my father and rather clumsily rolled a cigarette that I took to school with me. Smoking gave me a sense of autonomy and choice over my own life, and at 11 it was the ultimate act of rebellion. Soon I got addicted to it and was taking cigarettes from dad’s packets on a regular basis. I knew he never started counting them until he had less than half a pack left.

After a while I got caught smoking at school. My parents struck a deal with me: if I stopped smoking at school, they would purchase more tobaccos for me to smoke at home. This was perhaps a misguided attempt to keep me out of trouble. I jumped at the idea, and simply got smarter about smoking at school.

I smoked right through my teens and early 20s, spending thousands of dollars on cigarettes, sacrificing food and other necessities to ensure I had cigarettes.

I tried many methods to quit, but each time I would go back to smoking. I have always had a love-hate relationship with cigarettes. On the one hand, they were a friend to me when I had no other, one constant in my life I could rely on. On the other hand, I despised (鄙视) being dependent on something that was going to kill me.

I grew concerned about the effect my smoking would have on my children and I felt guilty putting cigarettes over other things that could have benefited my family. It is with great shame that I admit that I continued smoking even after having a daughter born with cystic fibrosis (囊性纤维). My daughter fights every day to breathe — and here I was intentionally causing damage to my lungs.

The turning point for me was an incredibly painful experience.

I set myself further little goals, such as only taking my e-cigarettes whenever I went.

Edison, a five-year-old boy had a nice holiday on the Big Island, Hawaii with his parents. The sun shone on the golden beach, and the sparkling sea unfolded in front of them. There were a large number of people on vacation, and the houses in the distance were neatly lined up. After Edison played for a while, he sat on the beach, enjoying the beautiful trees in the distance and listening to the cries of the seagulls (海鸥).

However, having recently returned from Hawaii, they were shocked by a TV news — a deadly wildfire on Maui steals Hawaiians’ homes and history. Scores of birds lay dead on the ground. Houses were burned to ruins, and cars were destroyed.

“Mum, do the kids have no toys or even a bed?” Edison asked sadly. “What shall I do to help them?”

“Will you donate your pocket money?” Mom asked.

“Sure, but that’s not enough. What about setting up a lemonade stand (柠檬水小摊) on the street? I think people are willing to buy something and give a helping hand.”

“Sounds great! My boy.” Dad agreed. “Besides pink and yellow lemonade, we can sell sandwiches, ice creams, candies and sparking water (气泡水).”

“Let’s start to make these things. It won’t take long.” Edison urged his parents.

The next few hours saw this family making sandwiches and lemonade, putting all the stuff on a stand, with a board saying “Food and Lemonade for Hawaii. One dollar per cup.”

“Will people buy our stuff?” Edison wondered.

Soon, drivers and passers-by stopped and made generous purchases. Even though the lemonade sold for 1 dollar per cup, they regularly paid 5, 10 or even 20 dollars.

“It is really considerate of you to do this. Please donate the change!” Touched by the behavior of Edison, people generously donated. “Thank you!” Edison expressed his gratitude to everyone who lent a helping hand.

With the collected funds, the family purchased essential supplies, such as food, water, blankets and toys. Though they were physically exhausted, they felt happy inside.

The family decided to go to the disaster-stricken island and offer their time and efforts.

My knees started shaking, yet my body froze. It felt as though my soul left my body and I had no control over it. Anxiously, I looked through the announcement posted on the wall of the locker room; my heart was beating harder and harder as I slowly saw all my friends' names on that list but could not find mine. I just couldn't accept that all my friends were on the team but I was not.

I was so convinced there was a mistake that I went and found the coach. But the coach just said, "There is always next year.” I could feel the hot, bitter tears building in my eyes, and I ran out of the room as fast as I could. As soon as I walked out, I saw my friends crowding into the locker room to look at the finalized team list. I heard them shouting and laughing as I slowly walked away, every one of them jumping around with excitement after seeing that they made the team. I felt dead inside, like nothing mattered.

After school, as I walked to the parking lot to get picked up, I saw all my friends gathered near the lot, celebrating and joking around. I detoured(绕行）around the side of the school to avoid them, trying not to think about being the only one in my friend group not to make the team.

I saw my father's familiar red Mazda pull up near the school lot, and I walked up to the car and got in. He smiled at me, turned on the radio, and started driving home. Then when we got home, he noticed my heavy steps and long face, and asked me what was wrong.

"Nothing. Well, it's just that all my friends made the school team. Everyone! Except me!" I said, not knowing how he would react.

“Well, what are you going to do about it? Are you just going to sit there and wait? "he asked.

Surprised, I didn't know what to say, and I just shook my head and went into my room.

After almost a year of practicing and training, I tried out for the team again.