I will never forget the tenth summer of childhood with my grandfather in western Norway at the mountain farm where my mother was born. As a boy ,I always thought people simply bought whatever they need. Whether Grandfather knew this, I don't know. One day he said, ”Come, I have something for you.”

I followed him to a workroom. “You should have a toy boat. You can sail it at Storvassdal.” He said. Great, I thought,looking around for the boat. But there was none.

Grandfather pointed to a block of wood. “The boat is in there,” he said. Then he handed me some tools and showed me how to use them properly. “It'll be a fine boat,and you'll make it with your own hands,” he said,”No one can give you what you do for yourself.”The words rang in my head as I worked. Finished the boat. It wasn't much to look at ,but I was poud. Then I sailed it at Storvassdal.

We had to return to America. “You cannot bring that boat home with you,” my mother said. We already had too much baggage. Feeling sad, I hid my boat under a big rock at Storvassdal.

I said good-bye to Grandfather, not knowing I would never see him again.

In 1964, I went to Storvassdal with my parents and my wife and children. To my surprise,for 34 years my treasure stayed here,waiting for my return. I felt we three were togethet again although my grandfather had died 22 years before.

I carved "1930”and "1964”on its side and put it back.

I returned to the lake in 1968,1971,1977 and 1988. Each time I had the boat and carved the year,my grandfather seemed near.

My last trip to Storvassdal was in 1991. I brought my granddaughters: Catherine,13; Claire,12. I hoped they would understand the importance of the little boat and its simple message. At Storvassdal, Claire said softly, ‘Grandpa,someday I'll come back.' She added,”And I'll bring my children.”

B

    Tears filled my eyes when I stood in our room. I was washing new jeans and a shirt of my 16-year- old stepson(继子), Brett. He drank a lot last night. The clothing was already dirty.

    I was very tired. The clothes were just one thing. He had already kicked a large hole in his bedroom wall. Many windows were broken because of his breaking in to steal money. Brett came to live with us when he was 12 years old. During those four years I had dealt with Brett as patiently as possible, but inside I was feeling sad. Later, I cheered up again and continued parenting Brett. Still, Brett did not change his behavior.

    When Brett was nearly 18, my husband and I decided to send Brett to a boarding school that had very good result with troubled teenagers.

    At the graduation ceremony the graduates stood one by one to thank those who had helped them. Each graduate held a rose to give to the person who had meant the most to him or her.

    Brett spoke lovingly to me, “You did so much. You were always there, no matter what happened. You always showed me such love. And I want you to know that I love you for “it”.

    Surprised, I stood as Brett placed the white rose in my hand and hugged me hard. At that moment I realized the truth-although I had been angry in my heart toward my stepson, Brett had seen only my actions.

    My name is Lisa. I'm from America, but now my dad, my mum and I are in Shanghai. My dad and my mom are English teachers. But sometimes My father goes to learn Chinese. So he is a student, too. We are in No.12 Middle School.

    Mary, Liu Ying, Wang Haobin are my friends. Mary is from England and she is thirteen years old. Liu Ying is from the capital of China. She and I are fourteen years old. Her English name is Rose. Wang Haobin is from Wenzhou. But he likes Shanghai.

    One Thursday afternoon, when I was in Grade 9, a new boy came into my classroom. He was short and thin. He walked up to the teacher and told her, very seriously, that he was new. His name was Christian. He sat down, took a look at me, and then looked away. I didn't think he was very nice and I was sure he wasn't the type I would like to become friends with.

    During that year, I didn't talk to him much, but he smiled at me when our eyes met, always shyly. He never ate lunch with anybody, and he never talked to anybody but me.

    But one day I joined those unkind kids who were making fun of him. We made fun of him though I thought it was wrong.

    "Haven't you got any friends?" a kid asked Christian, who had walked past us alone, head down.

    "No, he hasn't got any friends. He's too stupid and shy," I said. Then Christian looked up at me with the saddest dog eyes I had ever seen. I felt very sorry at that moment.

    That night, I couldn't sleep because I couldn't get Christian's face out of my mind. In the weeks that followed, he never met my eyes in class and never smiled at me. It was really hard for me to decide to write him a note asking him to forgive(原谅)me. But I thought I should.

    The next day in class, I wrote him a note telling him how sorry I felt. About five minutes later, I turned and saw tears in his eyes."You will never realize what your apology(道歉)has meant to me, Jimmly, "he said to me. "I hope we can become friends."

    We had lunch together that noon and we had the best talk I had ever had. Over the years at high school, we were close friends.

    When I think back, I realize that, if I had not apologized, I would never have known what a lovely person Christian was.

    Apologies can really change your life, so never miss the chance to tell somebody you are sorry.