The nervous-looking young man had waited for a few moments—outside the jeweler's before he got enough courage to enter. He was warmly greeted by a young assistant. James felt a rush of blood to his face as he explained he would be bringing in his future wife to choose a birthday present. The assistant listened carefully and told him he'd better buy a necklace. He wasn't used to buying jewellery and was a little worried about over-spending. After some discussion as to a reasonable price and the type, the assistant showed him dozens of necklaces and helped him to choose. At last James chose one and left the shop promising to return at five o'clock. When, half an hour later than planned, James did return to the shop with his future wife, Laura, the assistant acted as if she had never seen him before. When she was asked to show them some necklaces, she first brought out some inexpensive ones for them to choose, and then gave them the one she had prepared. A choice was soon made and they went away satisfied. James would certainly come back to buy what he wanted.

    I've loved my mother's desk since I was just tall enough to see above the top of it as Mother sat doing letters. Standing by her chair, looking at the ink bottle, pens, and white paper, I decided that the act of writing must be the most wonderful thing in the world.

    Years later, during her final illness, Mother kept different things for my sister and brother. “But the desk,” she said again, “is for Elizabeth.”

    I never saw her angry, never saw her cry, I knew she loved me; she showed it in action. But as a young girl, I wanted heart-to-heart talks between mother and daughter. It never happened. And a gulf opened between us. I was “too emotional”. But she lived “on the surface”. As years passed and I had my own family, I loved my mother and thanked her for our happy family. I wrote to her in careful words and asked her to let me know in any way if she chose that she did forgive me. I posted the letter and waited for her answer. None came. My hope turned to disappointment, then little interest and, finally, peace—it seemed that nothing happened. I couldn't be sure the letter had even got to Mother. I only knew that I had written it, and I could stop trying to make her into someone she was not.

    Now the present of her desk told me, as she'd never been able to, that she was pleased that writing was my chosen work. I cleaned the desk carefully and found some papers inside—a photo of my father and a one-page letter folded and refolded many times. She had given me an answer in a way she chose. Mother, you always chose the act that speaks louder than words.

    It was a Sunday and the heavy storm had lasted all night. The morning after the storm, though, was beautiful: blue skies, warm air and a calm, inviting sea touching the shore gently.

    My father realized it was a good day for fishing and invited my sister and me to go with him. I was only 14 and fishing had never been my thing, but I decided to go all the same. I'm so glad I did.

    On the road to the harbour we could see the terrible destruction on the coast, but the harbour itself was in fairly good shape. After all, it was protected by the arms of a bay that had only one tiny channel to the sea. As we got on board, we noticed two big hums(脊背)in the distance.

On approaching them, we saw it was a mother whale with her baby. We couldn't believe it –—there aren't any whales along the coast here. The storm must have driven them across the ocean into the bay, in which the still water was so badly polluted that nothing could survive.

The little baby whale—-actually as big as our boat—-was obviously stuck and could not move. The mother dived under the water and came up suddenly, making big whirlpools(漩涡)and waves. “She's trying to help her baby, but on the wrong side,” my father said. At this point, my father moved our boat in a semicircle to the other side and, heading the boat towards the baby whale, pushed it gently. With our several gentle pushes the big hump turned over and disappeared under water. Then it swam up right beside its mum. They struggled in their desperate attempts to escape but missed the exit and started heading in the wrong direction. We hurried up to the whales and tried to lead them towards the bay channel. Slowly, they let us lead them, sometimes rising from the water right beside us to breathe –—and to give us a trusting(信任的) look with those huge eyes. Once they hit their first part of clean water flowing straight from the sea, the mum gave us a wave with her tail and off they swam into the distance.

    In the excitement it had felt like only a few minutes, but we had been with those wonderful animals for almost an hour and a half. That was the simple and lasting beauty of the day. Nearly four decades later, I still look back fondly to that golden day at sea.

    It's not easy being a teenager– nor is it easy being the parent of a teenager. You can make your child feel angry, hurt, or misunderstood by what you say without realizing it yourself. It is important to give your child the space he needs to grow while gently letting him know that you'll still be there for him when he needs you.

    Expect a lot from your child, just not everything. Except for health and safety problems, such as drug use or careless driving, consider everything else open to discussion to help them grow up more independently. If your child is unwilling to discuss something, don't insist he tell you what's on his mind. The more you insist, the more likely that he'll clam up. Instead, let him attempt to solve things by himself. At the same time, remind him that you're always there for him should he seek advice or help. Show respect for your teenager's privacy (隐私). Never read his mail or listen in on personal conversations.

    Teach your teenager that the family phone is for the whole family, which can make them more mature. If your child talks on the family's telephone for too long, tell him he can talk for 15 minutes, but then he must stay off the phone for at least an equal period of time. This not only frees up the line so that other family members can make and receive calls, but teaches your teenager moderation (节制). Or if you are open to the idea, allow your teenager his own phone that he pays for with his own pocket money or a part-time job.

    I'm a speaker and give hundreds of speeches every year. I spoke about appreciation (感激) last month and I used this quote by Albert Schweitzer "Sometimes our light goes out but is blown again into flame by meeting with another human being. Each of us should express the deepest thanks to those who have relighted this inner (内心的) light."

    I asked my audiences to shut their eyes and think about someone who, at some time in their lives, has relighted their inner light. Then I left the room in silence for several minutes. It was always a meaningful experience as they remembered the joy they felt from another person.

    One day, a gentleman came up to talk with me and thanked me for creating a new awareness (意识) in him. He said he thought of his eighth-grade history teacher because she was everyone's favorite teacher and had really made a difference in all of their lives. Several days later, the gentleman found his history teacher and he wrote to her. The following week he received this letter:

    Dear John,

    You will never know how much your letter meant to me. I am 83 years old, and I am living all alone in one room. My friends are all gone. My family's gone. I taught 50 years and yours is the first "thank you" letter I have ever gotten from a student. Sometimes I wonder what I did with my life. I will read and reread your letter until the day I die.

    The gentleman was sad, "She is always the one we talk about when we have a get-together. She is everyone's favorite teacher—we love her! But no one had ever told her until she received my letter…"