Everything was put neatly into my suitcase．I'm a flight attendant．I'm so organized，my half of the closet could be a display at The Container Store．My husband's half of the closet？Just thinking about it made my head ache．I carried my suitcase downstairs．Bill was in the kitchen cooking．Looking at the messy kitchen，I shouted，“Why do you have to be so messy？” Bill looked hurt，“What？” I sighed and left for the airport．

    On my last flight，an elderly couple had the seats in my section．They held hands during takeoff．Later I caught them looking into each other's eyes．Something about that look was familiar．Then I realized：it was the look Bill and I had worn in our wedding photographs．I couldn't resist asking them about the secret of their long-lasting marriage. “Have fun together，”the man said, “and never take each other for granted．”

    His words circled in my head long after we landed．Bill wasn't perfect．But then，was I？I kept complaining about his messiness and forgot his kindness，his ability to see the bright side of every situation-qualities that ran so much deeper，the reasons I had married him in the first place

    I took out my cell phone and called Bill. “I miss you already.” I said．“I miss you too，Kim，” he said．As soon as my flights were over，I rushed home．Bill met me at the door．"I have a surprise for you．"he said and led me into the kitchen．I glanced around the room．He really had worked hard．In spite of the fingerprints on that microwave floor，I could see our reflection in it：my husband and I，our smiles glowing with love for each other，just like in our wedding photos．

    One night, the first floor of the house suddenly caught fire. The fire was big, and soon became a sea of fire. On the second floor lived a little girl and her grandmother; the little girl's parents had died, and she lived together with her grandma. In order to rescue the little girl, the grandmother was burned to death, leaving the little girl crying for help loudly.

    How could people enter the house? At the very moment, a man carrying a ladder rushed to the flames and entered the house through the window. When he appeared again in the eyes of the people, the little girl was in his arms. He gave the child to the crowd, and then disappeared into the night.

    This little girl had no family. Two months later a meeting was held to find a person to adopt the girl. A teacher was willing to adopt this child, and said she could give her the best education; a farmer wanted to adopt this child, saying that village life would let the child grow up healthily and happily; a rich man said, “I can give the child everything that others can do.”

    A lot of people who wanted to adopt this child said a lot about the benefits of their adopting the child. But the little girl's face had no expression. At this time, a man, through the crowd, walked straight to the little girl, and opened his arms for the little girl. People were puzzled, and they found that the man had terrible scars on his arms. The little girl let out a cry, “This is the man who saved me!” She suddenly jumped up and buried her face in his arms and sobbed. Naturally the man adopted the girl.

    Skillswise Delivery Services

    Christmas Job Opportunities

    Aged between 16 and 65 years? Need some money for Christmas?

    Are you available to work at short notice?

    Can you work early in the morning or late at night? We are looking for careful and patient people to help to sort and deliver parcels in the Reading area from late November until the end of December.

    Pay for weekdays, including Saturdays and Sundays, will be

Ages 16 to 17—-£4.80 per hour.

Age 18 and over—- £ 6.10 per hour.

    So if you have good communication skills and are able to work as part of a team, we would like to hear from you.

    To get an application form, please write to:

    Elaine Grey, Personnel Officer, Skillswise Delivery Services, Windsor Road.

    Reading, RGS 4BR

    Tel:0118 932 814 (24 hr. answer phone)

    Closing date: 10th November

    Suddenly another thought went through Kate's mind like an electric shock. An express train was due to go past about thirty minutes later. If it were not stopped, that long train, full of passengers, would fall into the stream. “Someone must go to the station and warn the station-master,” Kate thought. But who was to go? She would have to go herself. There was no one else.

    In wind and rain she started on her difficult way. Soon she was at the bridge that crossed the Des Moines River, a bridge also built of wood, just like the bridge across Honey Creek. The storm had not washed this away, but there was no footpath across it. She would have to cross it by stepping from sleeper(枕木) to sleeper. With great care she began the dangerous crossing, sometimes on her hands and knees, hardly daring to look down between the sleepers into the wild flood waters below. If she should slip, she would fall between the sleepers, into the rapidly flowing stream.

    At last-she never knew how long it had taken her-she felt solid ground under her feet. But there was no time to rest. She still had to run more than half a mile and had only a few minutes left. Unless she reached the station before the express did, many, many lives would be lost.

    She did reach the station just as the train came into sight. Fortunately the station-master was standing outside. “The bridge is down! Stop the train! Oh, please stop it!” Kate shouted breathlessly.

    The station-master went pale. He rushed into the station building and came back with a signal light. He waved the red light as the train came into the station. It was not a second too early.

    To foreigners Chinese food isn't a meal. It's an experience. Failing to order the right food and struggling with chopsticks are only parts of the adventure every time I sit down in a restaurant.

    In one of our favorite Sichuan restaurants, it took 3 waiters and 15 minutes for us to order only our drinks. I simply wanted water, but my dad wanted to try the fresh juice they had listed on the menu. There were two problems, however. There were neither pictures nor English on the menu. After several hand gestures, he ended up ordering just a coca cola to simplify things.

    One of our most embarrassing moments was at Xiabuxiabu, a very famous hotpot chain. As soon as we walked in, the entire restaurant seemed to stare at us. Uncomfortable already, we had the most difficulty ordering our meal, since there were so many steps to the whole process. Fortunately, the waitress was very patient and successfully gave us our food. Although it was not the best food I had in Beijing, it was certainly entertaining dropping things into the boiling pot of soup. Once, I tried picking up a dumpling to show my father and dropped it onto his pants. I looked behind me, and people were laughing secretly at my chopstick skills.

    No matter how many difficulties we have regarding food, our experiences give the best stories to tell. The servers are always understanding of our situation and their friendliness is exceptional. They always greet us with a big smile even when they realize they have to clean up the noodles slipped through our clumsy chopsticks.