The message was short. I read it three times: "Hey, Mom, can I come to see you guys?"I wrote back: "Yes!”He said he hoped to make it in time for dinner.　

 I made a quick run to the market, put sheets on the guest bed and set the TV to record the Warriors' game, so if traffic was awful, he wouldn't have to miss the first half. Then I began cooking, cleaning, watching the clock and listening for his footsteps coming up the walk.

 It's called waiting. I'm good at it. When he was a newborn, I'd wait for him to go to sleep. Soon then I'd stand by his bed waiting for him to wake up. I waited, as he learned to do things like walking , talking and feeding himself; throwing a ball, riding a bike and reading a book.

 I waited for him to start preschool, primary school, middle school and college.

 I waited with dread for him to start driving. And I waited up every time he came home late.

I wait for my son to grow up, but that doesn't mean the waiting game is over. It never really ends.

 Mothers wait for all kinds of reasons—good news or bad, happiness or heartache. But the waiting is soon forgotten, usually, the minute a long awaited child walks through the door.

 My boy will be here soon. But if he's late, I can wait. I'm good at it. And he's worth it. I will always leave a light on for him. 

    One day a dentist was starting his morning work. Suddenly a man ran in. His face was red and he could only say "Quick! Quick!" The dentist thought he must be very ill. His assistant helped to make the poor man sit in a chair. The dentist gave the man some medicine to make him sleep. Then, he looked into the man's mouth and pulled out all the bad teeth. As soon as the man woke up, he said in a low voice, "Quick, doctor, quick."

    "It's all right now," the dentist told him, "It's over."

    "You don't understand," said the man, "I came to tell you your house is on fire."

    Paulina Cortes is a teacher in San Jose, California. One day, she handed out masks (面罩) to farm workers in Lodi. She volunteered to do this because the air quality (空气质量) is still poor after a big fire.

    "I just got home and feel really tired now. Today I spent my day in Lodi handing out masks to farm workers," she wrote on the Internet. "I raised some money. Then I drove through San Jose and all the way to Salinas to buy enough masks I needed. This is important. The story here isn't that I handed out masks; it's that there are hundreds of people who are working in dangerous environments with no protection (防护). And no one even knows about it."

    Paulina also put some photos on the Internet, and they were picked up by the news. Many people were surprised at the news, and they knew what happened to those farm workers for the first time.

    The next day, Paulina added, "I traveled through Lodi and Stockton not just to hand out masks, but to help the farm workers understand the pollution. In Lodi yesterday the workers were picking fruit in such dangerous environments. None of them even knew this. Not too far from our homes, hundreds of people are working in these environments. I will buy more masks and send them to a Stockton farm worker. He helped me hand out masks yesterday."

    Thank you, Paulina, for caring and trying to make a difference.