As I prepared for my Level 8 Royal Conservatory of Music piano exam, memories of previous disappointing marks filled me with dread and anxiety. The mere thought of booking the exam made me feel completely strained. However, fate had other plans in store for me.

Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse, my trusty 10﹣year﹣old electric piano malfunctioned. The middle C note played as an F﹣sharp, and multiple other keys were out of tune.

Despite my distress, my father refused to buy a new piano and instead urged me to be more resourceful. Initially, I was at a loss without my beloved electric piano. But after struggling for a few days, I was determined to find every available piano room on campus. After discovering hidden pianos in corners, I spent countless hours practicing. As my exam drew near

One day, while practicing in a piano room, one of my teachers walked in and offered me a mini exam. To my surprise, I found a place where I could be anyone.

Playing the piano became my escape from the anxieties of adolescence and allowed me to express myself freely. When it was time to play in front of the examiner, I no longer feared judgment. Instead, I only feared not being able to represent all my hard work. As the lights came on

Eventually, I received my mark. Not only did I achieve a rarely given "well done", but I also discovered a newfound appreciation for music. Whenever I feel discouraged, some lessons are best learned the hard way.

Last weekend I made my first visit to a remote village, home to one of our students, Tombe. Another teacher and I walked for two and a half hours to get there—first, up a mountain from where we had fantastic views, and then down a shaded path to the valley below. When we arrived at the village, Tombe's mother, Kiak, saw us coming and started crying "ieee ieee". We shook hands with all the villagers. Everyone seemed to be related to Tombe.

Tombe's father, Mukap, a man with a strong jaw and a wrinkled forehead, led us to his house, a low, round bamboo hut with no windows, with a door just big enough to get through, and with grass sticking out of the roof—this shows it is a man's house. Such housing is dark inside so it took time for our eyes to adjust. Fresh grass had been laid on the floor and there was a platform for Jenny and me to sleep on. There was a fireplace in the centre of the hut. The only possessions I could see were one broom, a few saucers, a kettle, cups, pans, and a couple of jars.

Mukap built a fire outside and laid stones on it to heat. He then placed the hot stones in an empty oil drum with kau kau（sweet potato）, ripe corn, and greens. He then covered the vegetables with banana leaves and left them to steam. It smelled delicious. We ate inside the hut sitting round the fire. I loved listening to the family talking softly to each other in their language, even though I could not participate much in the conversation. Luckily, Tombe interpreted for us.

Later. I noticed a can standing upside down on the grill（烤架）over the fire. After a while. Tombe threw it out of the doorway. Tombe told me that the can was heated to dry out the leftover food. His family believes that leftovers attract bad spirits in the night, so any leftover food is dried up in a can and the can is then thrown out of the hut.

We left the village the next morning after many goodbyes and firm handshakes. My muscles were aching and my knees shaking as we dragged ourselves down the mountain towards home. That evening I fell happily into bed. It was such a privilege to have spent a day with Tombe's family.

In a heartwarming tale from Georgia, a 72-year-old senior recently celebrated his college graduation in cinema studies, an achievement made even more special by the presence of his proud 99-year-old mother.

Sam Kaplan of Lawrenceville decided to start on his educational journey at Georgia Gwinnett College in 2019, half a century after he had firstly chosen not to get higher education following his high school graduation in 1969. The catalyst for his return to academia came when he heard a radio announcement about a degree programme in cinema studies.

Recalling that moment, Kaplan said, "I was driving down the highway when I heard about the degree programme. The next exit led to Collinsville, so I immediately exited, and within five minutes, I was enrolling in classes. I've always had a passion for writing and storytelling. I longed to transform my narratives into screenplays, but I realized I needed the basic knowledge to do so,"

Kaplan admitted that the journey was a mix of anxiety and excitement, but it proved to be greatly rewarding. He graduated with a 3.975 grade point average and perfect grade honours, majoring in cinema and media arts, and had desires to continue creating screenplays in the future.

"It was an exciting and nerve-wracking (神经紧张的) challenge. Re-recognizing myself with the art of studying and communicating with fellow students was a lot of fun," he told FOX5 Atlanta.

The most heartwarming thing of Kaplan's graduation day was the presence of his mother, 99-year-old Virginia Kaplan, during the ceremony. Virginia expressed her huge pride, saying, "I am so proud of him. He faced numerous challenges but insisted, and I am delighted, pleased, and extremely proud," the mother also added. "With his new degree, he's going to stand out in whatever he does. Who knows, I might even make an appearance in the movies."

We met Bailey 5 yeas ago. He was a standard poodle (髦毛小狗) born on Valentine's day in 2020, and came to us in a small blue box. His previous owner posted the news online and we adopted him. Our only request was that he behave calmly and be able to put up with the pushing and hugging of our eight-year-old daughter and six-year-old son. 

We were a sweet family: me, my husband, our children Angela and Tony. But for years. I'd felt that we wouldn't be truly whole if we didn't have a dog. Also, my husband worked for a commercial company and traveled around 200 days a year. and I knew that having a large animal sleeping by the door made me feel safer. 

The last piece of our purzle fell into place when we opened the box. With his dark hair and smart eyes, Bailey was beautiful. He was so small that he could fit in the palm of my hand, his big paws (爪子) resting at his sides. He was a little scared, too. As I pulled him close, I felt his heart racing, and 1 wondered if we had done the right thing by taking him away from his mother. But it was too late. Angela and Tony were already arguing about who would carry him and who had the right to bathe him. 

Over the following months, we spent countless hours watching Bailey play with his toys or roll around on the living room floor. Like most poodles, he was smart. He quickly mastered house-training and never chewed (咀) on our furniture or shoes. He considered himself one of us. 

One night we were sleeping in the bedroom when I heard some strange noise. {#blank#}1{#/blank#}

At that time, Bailey ran towards me. {#blank#}2{#/blank#}

A. I thought it was Bailey running and hitting something, so I kept lying in the bed and made an attempt to fall asleep again. However, the noise became louder and louder, which had already annoyed me. Quickly l got up from my bed. I opened the door and found Bailey running around the living room, trying to let all the things fall down. These abnormal behaviors really made me confused and a little afraid.

B. He firmly grabbed my trousers and pulled me to the kitchen. As I approached the kitchen could obviously smell a strong burning smell and immediately knew what had happened. When¹ aw the fierce fire in the kitchen, I dashed into my children's room like an arrow(前), waking them up at my maximum voice. Rushing out of the house together with my family. I called 911 and asked our neighbors for help at the same time. Fortunately both my family and my house were saved Thanks to our smart Bailey, we did escape from death.

C. Angela and Tony completed the delicious breakfast and they could not wait to bring it to me who slept in the room. Their father praised their hard-earned work with his thumb up, informing them that I was sleeping on the second floor. To my surprise, their hand-made food was so delicious that l would never forget it. Obviously. what they had done for me would be rooted in memory.

D. I nodded with a smile and encouraged the children to get started. Quickly. Angela volunteered to get the big box of com and prepared to make popcorn. At the same time, Tony. my smart boy. went to buy some paper bags. I ran to Bailey's home to invite him. Not surprisingly. Bailey was amazed at this great project and couldn't wait to come. To our delight, the popcorn they made looked great and tasted delicious. Finally. they packed the sweet popcorn in the paper bags together. Laughter and happiness filled this house.

In 2014, Amy collapsed from a brain hemorrhage (脑溢血) while working. After a year recovering at home, she 1 a course with the ambition to become a 2 .

However, occasional vision disturbance was still 3 , influencing the amount of 4 she could give to the course. Further complications (并发症) left the young artist almost completely blind, making it difficult to see a whole figure. It's particularly 5 because it seemed to 6 her optimism to be a painter! 

One morning, when watching the sunrise, she suddenly felt a sense of 7 . She realized that she may not 8 a whole face anymore, but it shouldn't stop her from putting what she could see on canvas (画布). The following years, she 9 her special art journey.

"Strangely, my experience has increased my 10 when drawing, enabling me to catch a character better," she explains. "People often speak highly of the detail and sensitivity of the character. I have more determination and appreciation for my 11 . These are 12 I wouldn't have had without everything I've 13 ." For her new touring exhibition, she has produced a series of artworks based on her visual experience. "In the 14 interaction between what I can and cannot see lies my perspective on the world."

Sometimes, we can turn a loss into a gain: something unique and individual that has been gifted to us by never 15 .