I first met Windy, a six-year-old girl, on the beach near where I lived. She was building a sand house there. She looked up, and her eyes were as blue as the sea. Every time when I felt unhappy, I drove to the beach.  

      "Hello, Miss Agnes," she said. I answered, but I didn't really want to stop her. "I'm building," she said. I saw that.

    "What is it?" I asked her. "Oh, I don't know. I just like the feeling of the sand." Oh, that's good, I thought, and took off my shoes to join her. A sandpiper (一种叫做鹬的水鸟) flew by. She told me that it would make me happy. I felt better then.

      A week later on my next visit, I learned that Windy lived in a cottage (小屋) and didn't go to school. Soon after that, my mother died, and I rushed to the beach to be alone. I didn't want to say anything when Windy came up to me. "Why?" she asked.

      I turned to her and shouted, "Because my mother died!" "Oh," she said quietly, "then today is a bad day."

      A month later, I went to the beach but couldn't find Windy. I missed her so much that I visited her house. I learned that Windy had died of leukemia (白血病), but she left a picture of a sandpiper for me.

This was our last trip before high school. I had been looking forward to it for weeks. But at the roller coaster, my stomach felt too tight to say anything at all.

The big girl beside us was Tasha, my best friend Dan's sister. We came here in her car. She was a singer. She was fantastic on the stage. Just the image of her up there made me think she was so cool.

Our roller coaster car pulled up, and my friends rushed forward, I felt my legs couldn't move. All I could think about was the roller coaster might fly off into the sky. Without a word, I turned, ran out of the line. I knew what people were saying about me, but I didn't care. I just kept moving past the crowd, found a bench near the bathrooms to sit down and put my head in my hands.

"Hey! Steve! Are you okay?" I looked up. It was Tasha!

"Oh, uh, yeah, I just started feeling, um, sick." I responded.

"You know, it's okay if you were scared. Everyone gets scared." She said.

"You don't." I said in a low voice. "I've seen you on that stage. You were fearless."

"I'm glad it looks like I'm not scared!" Tasha smiled. "But that's not true. I get really scared and nervous before I perform."

Before I noticed she was on the bench by my side, her words moved on.

"Hey, look, singing is important to me. And I want to share what I love with my people. So, even if I'm scared. I do it anyway. I push through the fear and just get up and do it. Is taking roller coaster important to you? "

"Yeah, it is. And I want to be able to look back and remember having fun with my friends. I don't want to remember running away and sitting alone by the bathrooms."

"Everyone gets scared, but brave people don't let fear control them." She looked into my eyes. Still being lost in what she said, I saw my friends coming towards me.

I got up and went with them to the coaster.

When we were leaving, Tasha took a photo of my big smile in front of the coaster. I put it on my door. It stayed there through all four years of my high school, a reminder* of what was more important to me than fear.

I'm Mary from England. Now I'm in a middle school in Beijing. I'm in Class 5, Grade 7. Look! This is a photo of our classroom. There are twenty-one desks and forty chairs in it. Two students share a desk. And there is also a desk for our teachers in the front of the classroom.

Our classroom is big and tidy. There are two maps in the classroom. They are a map of China and a map of Beijing. There are no computers in the classroom. But there is a bookcase (书架).There are many books in it. We can read them, but we can only take one book at a time. There are only a few books on our desks. Most of our books are in our desks. We like our classroom very much. What about yours?

My father was busy fixing Belinda's spaceship all afternoon. In the evening, I went to the landing place. "Dear Father," I said politely. "Have you found Belinda's parents yet?"

"Not yet, my dear." He shook his head.

I felt relaxed. I didn't want to meet Belinda's parents—they might be ten times as loud and bossy as she was.

But Belinda had followed me.

"Not yet?" she shouted. "Why not? I'll send them a message! They'll listen to me!"

Belinda ran to the radio. She shouted into it so loudly that I had to cover all my four ears. "Mummy! Daddy! I'm on an awful spaceship full of purple people! Come and find me now!"

"Poor Belinda!" my sister came and said. "Her parents must be missing her."

"Huh!" I snorted (发出哼声). "Missing her? You're joking! Who would want such a bossy kid back? They probably lost her on purpose."

Belinda's face clouded. I thought she was going to shout again, but she didn't. Instead, something very strange happened — her eyes began to water!

"Oh, help!" said Roa. "Is she dying?"

I felt terrible. "Don't die, Belinda! I didn't mean it."

Then Belinda opened her mouth wide and shouted, "What if it's true? What if they've gone away and left me here forever?"

We were all so busy comforting Belinda that we didn't notice the soft knock of a ship landing outside. We didn't see two tall people come out of it until Belinda ran out in excitement.

"Mummy! Daddy!"

Belinda's parents were even uglier than she was, but they looked polite. "Hello, dear," the female said. "We're sorry we kept you waiting."

We smiled as the three of them boarded their spaceship. "Goodbye!" shouted Belinda. "Goodbye! Thanks for taking care of our baby girl!" said her father.

None of us answered. We waved cheerfully as the ship took off and went far away into the stars.