Now that Maria was a tenth grader, she felt she was too grown-up to have to go on family vacation. Last year, the family had driven three hundred miles to see their uncle in West Covina. After the first four days of doing nothing while the adults sat around talking, the kids finally got to go to Disneyland.

The parents gave each child five dollars. Maria’s younger sister, Irma, bought a Pinocchio coloring book. Her brothers, Rudy and John, spent their money on candies. Maria knew everything was overpriced so she saved her money. She sat on a bench, jealously (嫉妒地) watching other teenage girls who seemed much better dressed than she was. She felt stricken by poverty.

This year Maria’s family planned to visit an uncle in San Jose. Her father promised to take them to Great America, but she knew that the grown-ups would sit around talking for days before they remembered the kids. They would have to wait until the last day before they could go to Great America. It wasn’t worth the boredom.

“Dad, I’m not going with you this year,” Maria said to her father. He thought for a moment and said, “When I was a kid, we didn’t have money for vacations. I would be happy to go with my father.”

“I know, I know. You’ve said that a hundred times, ”she said in a sharp voice. The father’s eyes were fixed on her with a dark stare. It seemed as though time had frozen.

“Let the girl stay. She’s big now,” Eva, his wife, said. The father argued, but eventually (最终) agreed to let his daughter stay.

The family rose just after six the next day and was ready to go by seven-thirty. Maria stayed in her room. She wanted to apologize to her father but she couldn’t. She knew that if she said sorry to her father, she would break into tears. Her father wanted to come into her room and say “We’ll do something really special this vacation. Come with us, honey”, but it was hard for him to show his feelings.

They left at last, leaving Maria at home on her own.

“It must be from them,” she talked to herself.

I was eleven years old standing outside in just my underwear while I watched the house that I grew up in rapidly burn to the ground. A few minutes earlier I had been sound asleep in my nice,   warm bed when a scream woke me up.

My grandmother’s bedroom was just next to mine and my brother’s,   A fire had broken out there and awakened her. Hearing her my older brother had sprung into action. While I stumbled around in the smoke and darkness he ran from room to room quickly waking everyone in the house. The house,   however,   was over 50 years old and made of wood. Before we could do anything the fire consumed it. We all barely made it outside before the flames engulfed every room. I stood there shivering while the fire destroyed my books,   clothes,   and toys. I watched helplessly while my Mom cried and my Dad swore. I wondered what was going to happen to us now that we had lost all of our things. As I looked around,   though,   I realized something for the first time: The things that matter,   aren’t things.

I saw my older brother running across the swinging bridge by our house to get help. I saw my oldest brother who was on crutches from an earlier accident standing unsteadily on one leg. I saw my grandmother and Dad huddled together and my Mom holding our little dog in her arms.

I realized at that moment that we were all alive.

I still think of that fire in the night that helped me to become who I am today.

An 80­year­old man was sitting on the sofa in his house along with his 45­year­old highly educated son．Suddenly a crow(乌鸦) perched on their window.

The father asked his son，“What is this？”The son replied，“It is a crow.”

After a few minutes，the father asked his son the 2nd time，“What is this？”The son said，“Father，I have just now told you‘It's a crow.’”

After a little while，the old father again asked his son the 3rd time，“What is this？”

At this time some expression of irritation was felt in the son's tone when he said to his father with a rebuff.“It's a cow，a cow.”

A little while later，the father again asked his son the 4th time，“What is this？”

This time the son shouted at his father.“Why do you keep asking me the same question again and again，although I have told you so many times‘IT IS A CROW’．Are you not able to understand this？”

A little while later the father went to his room and came back with an old tattered diary，which he had maintained since his son was born.

On opening a page，he asked his son to read that page.

When the son read it，the following words were written in the diary：

“Today my little son aged three was sitting with me on the sofa，when a crow was sitting on the window. My son asked me 23 times what it was，and I replied to him all 23 times that it was a crow. I hugged him lovingly each time he asked me the same question again and again for 23 times. I did not at all feel irritated but I rather felt affection for my innocent child.”

After reading the diary，

Feeling ashamed，the son got down on his knees before his father.