My daughter Marissa loves to dance and is quite a good dancer. She inherited her dancing ability from my wife Angela.

Angela encouraged Marissa to dance from a very early age. I recall fondly how she would swing our daughter around the living room over and over to the song “Dancing Queen”. The two of them filled our living room with laughter and joy each time they danced together. Because of that, our daughter has always loved all types of dance, and she took classes in Irish dance, hip-hop, jazz and more.

I love music, and I will dance occasionally, but my dancing is awful! Every time I try to dance, two things get in the way: my feet.

A couple of years ago, Marissa was a bridesmaid in a wedding that my wife and I attended. It was a beautiful wedding on a bright spring day. At the reception, my daughter was dancing away. I was sitting at a table minding my own business when she talked me into dancing with her. That means she begged me to get off my chair and out on the dance floor.

When we got out on the floor, the DJ’s music took over my body. The problem was that it missed my hips and feet. I tried my best. As I began moving to the beat, I gave myself a silent encouraging talk. I thought of that famous phrase: Dance like no one is watching. That didn’t work! Everyone was watching. My brother-in-law was laughing so hard that I thought he would fall off his chair.

I tried my best to keep up with my daughter’s moves. Unfortunately, I was always at least two steps behind. She was performing a move, and I was just a fool! Her “Hips Don’t Lie”, and my hips didn’t even know what to say. If she was the dancing queen, then I would have been the court jester (小丑). I think you get the picture.

Despite my poor dance moves, we had a good time.

Dance gives us so many smiles.

The Belfast, Maine of my youth was not the coastal tourist village that it is today. At the time, McDonald’s hadn’t yet moved into town. Before the supermarket existed, Cottle’s, a food market where Mr. Proulx worked as the manager, was the only place where my mother could do her once-a-week shopping. Because we lived a few miles from Belfast, we’d usually combine the grocery trip with a visit to see my grandmother who always had cookies ready for us.

On one particular shopping day at Cottle’s, I stood behind my mother as she was unloading the grocery cart (购物车) and checking her items out at the register. The candy that displayed on either side of me were full of Life Savers, Clark Bars, Sugar Babies—you name it!

“Can I get some candies?” I asked. My mother rarely veered (转向) from her list so I wasn’t surprised with her response “No.” But I really wanted that candy!

I reached for a Sugar Baby package. My mother didn’t notice. So I thought she probably wouldn’t notice if I put them into my pocket. No one noticed my action—not my mother, not the cashier—no one! I did it! Wow! My very first shoplifting experience! How easy! How rewarding! Got my candy and didn’t need one penny to get it!

I sat in the back seat as my mother drove across the bridge to where my grandmother lived. Slowly, so as not to make any unnecessary noise, I opened my prize and carefully slipped a Sugar Baby into my mouth. No one piece of candy ever tasted so good!

Finally we pulled into my grandmother’s driveway. As I prepared to open my car door, I confidently slipped a few more Sugar Babies into my mouth.

“Keith, what have you got in your mouth?” I looked up at the rearview mirror (后视镜) and could see my mother’s eyes staring back at me. “I asked you a question! What have you got in your mouth?”

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Coming out of your comfort zone is tough in the beginning, chaotic in the middle, and awesome in the end… because in the end it shows you a whole new world. — Manoj Arora

“I’m sorry, Lisa, but Debbie and I are going to move back into the house. You’re going to have to find another place to live.”

I couldn’t quite believe what Neil, my landlord (房东), was telling me on that warm April night. I’m going to have to move? But I want to stay right here where I am. This is my home!

I had tears in my eyes, and so did he I had lived on the first floor of his Staten Island two- family house for more than twelve years— longer than I had lived in any place since my childhood home. Ever since I moved back to the New York City area in 2000 Neil had been like family to me.

Originally, Neil lived on the second floor of the house. But a few years ago, he had moved a few miles away into his wife Debbie’s hose. He rented out his old apartment to some young people. But after his company broke, he and Debbie had decided to sell her house and move back here.

Neil had never raised my rent, which was $750 a month, dirt-cheap for New York City. That was part of the problem. Neil was making a lot more money from the new tenants (租户) upstairs, so it made sense for him to keep those tenants and move into my apartment. Now, I was going to have to find a new apartment and pay more. He was very nice about it, and gave me six months to find a new place.

Nevertheless, I was worried. I was so upset that I got into bed, pulled the covers over my head and cried. It was only 8:30 p.m., but I just wanted to go to sleep and forget this was happening.

Around 12:30 a.m., I was so sad that I couldn’t sleep. So I called Jon, my best friend, a very positive person.

“Look on the bright side, and maybe you will find a place you like better,” he said.

As I started to find a new apartment, I began to think about new possibilities.