It was unusually quiet in the emergency room on December 25. I didn't think there would be any 1 , sighing (叹息)about having to work on Christmas. Just then five bodies 2at my desk, a pale woman and four children.

    “Are you all3?” I asked. “Yes,” she said weakly and lowered her head.

    But when it came to 4their problems, things got a little strange. They all claimed to have headaches, but the headaches weren't 5by the normal body language of holding the head or trying to keep it still.

    Something was wrong. Our hospital policy,6, was not to turn away any patient. I explained it might be a little while 7a doctor saw her. She responded immediately, even a bit 8“Take your time,” and then added, “It's warm in here.”

    Then, I checked their registration（登记，注册） form out of curiosity. No address—they were  9.The waiting room was warm. I went back to the nurses' station and mentioned we had a homeless 10in the waiting room. The nurses, complaining of11on Christmas, turned to sympathy for a family just trying to get 12on Christmas. The team went into action, much as we do when there's a 13emergency. But this was a Christmas emergency.

    We were all 14a free meal on Christmas Day, so we took back that meal and prepared a big dinner for our15.We needed presents. We 16from different departments candies, fruits and other things 17that could be presents. Just like we 18the physical needs of the patients, our team worked to meet the needs of a family who just wanted to be warm on Christmas.

    19, as the family walked to the door to 20, the mother came running back, gave me a hug and whispered, “Thanks for being our angels today.”

    I had introduced myself to others by saying, “Hi, I am J's mother” or “A's mom” rather than my own name. Another mother 1 asked me, “And do you have a(n)2?”

    My friend 3 me a few days before. I kept on talking for five minutes about my 4 When I 5 she asked, “So, is there anything going on with 6?”

    At first, I didn't understand 7she was asking me that. Hadn't I just told her what was going on with me? But then I realized that 8 I said had actually been about myself. It was all about my kids. I love being a mom. The kids were my world.9 it was my kids' world, and I just lived in it and 10it didn't fall apart.

    The phone call with my friend made me 11 that I needed to start thinking about who else I am 12 being a mother. I realized that to be a good 13 I also had to be my own person-not just someone who only 14 to take care of other people.

    I joined a club and started doing some volunteer work. I took a writing class online. I am now a regular 15to several magazines and write a monthly blog. I don't make a lot of money by writing, but I feel more 16 as a person. I am 17 and growing, and that makes me more 18 and a better mother.

Now when I 19 myself, I say, “Hi, my name is Randi,” and it feels 20 to be me.

    Jason, our son, was born one month early and so he was weaker than most children. My wife Margaret and I often comforted him as he faced many 1 in his childhood.

    In his seventh grade, Jason 2up for the school running team, which made me both proud and worried. One afternoon, Jason returned home in tears, covered all over with food. He threw his bag on the floor and shouted: “I'm never going to 3 again!” As we later learned, a few older students made fun of his performance on the playground and then threw 4 at him on the school bus on the way home.

    I called the school leader about what happened on the bus, and Jason never experienced that again. He stayed on the team, even though the trouble 5.

    One day in October, we had a heavy 6.As the other kids exercised in the gym they noticed one runner—Jason—7 around the snow-covered playground.

    A few weeks later, Jason had something to tell us. “Mom, Dad, sit down,” he said. I was ready for the8.

    He told us that each month, students chose an “athlete of the month”. The coach would list the top athletes, and the other students 9 for the winner. Jason's name had never been listed.10 that day, one of the students said: “Sir, I would like to choose Jason for athlete of the month.”

The coach looked surprised.

    “He works 11 than any of us, Sir,” the student continued.

    “Does everyone 12 with this?” the coach asked.

Tears formed in Jason's eyes as he told us what happened next. “Mom ... Dad ...13 in the team put their hands up.''

His mother and I, also in tears, looked on as he14showed his certificate (证书).

    Whenever I am sad, I think of this story. I remind myself that challenges are not overcome (克服) by15 but by patience, determination, and faith.

    Jason is in university these days and often holds the highest mark in his class. He is also training in martial arts. I am completely sure he'll wear a black belt someday, and wear it proudly.

    Hello, Mr. Wi-Fi. Life without you is next to impossible now. We're happy to sing your name from morning till evening, sometimes till dawn. 1 I know you help me, sometimes you're making me do things with 2 attention. Many times I promise myself that I'll 3 my feelings towards you, but you're 4 me closer and closer...You've entered both my home and my 5, You're just a window for our 6 and information. But we people aren't 7 only with the window. So we open all our 8 for you. Is this a(n) 9 or some kind of attachment? If this is an illness, is it curable？And if this is an attachment, will you 10 me the lifelong togetherness?

    We want you all the time. Can't you take a few days off so that both you and I can   11？You're a poison—not a slow one but a super 12 poison which holds our mind and makes us dance 13 its tune. Nowadays you're so 14 that anyone can buy and make you our 15. You'll never worry about our health but we'll 16 be concerned about your “health”.Because you accompany us everywhere and never let us be alone.

    If you were a 17 person made of flesh and blood (血肉之躯) would we love you the same? You 18 us with your great talents and we even can't get rid of you. We're all your 19. Sometimes I wonder how people in the previous generations 20, but if they did why can't we?

Finding Home

    "I hate New Orleans! I wanna go home!" I 1 to my mother as we moved boxes. 2 , going home was not easy because my home was 1, 100 miles away.

    I was born and 3 in northern Virginia. Virginia was my home, and I never expected that to 4. In 2014, my family experienced a tragedy (悲剧), so my parents decided to move to my mom's hometown of New Orleans.

    Only three months after my parents made the 5 to move, I found myself moving boxes into our new house. My announcement to my mother that I 6 the new environment was partly motivated by how hot it was, but it was mostly due to the fact that I felt like my entire life had been turned upside down. 1,100 miles away from everyone and everything I had ever known, I was 7. To make matters worse, I was starting high school in two weeks Beginning high school is a scary 8 on its own.

    I spent my first few months in New Orleans, 9 wanting to go home to Virginia. But after a few months of missing home, I 10 that I had a choice. I could continue thinking about how much I missed my old home, 11 I could start trying to build a new home right here. I chose the latter.

    As soon as I stopped giving all my 12 to how much I missed Virginia, I was able to begin accepting the love that people were already giving me. I joined some clubs at school, which gave me the chance to make friends. My neighbor taught me how to cook some New Orleans food, and I found a wonderful 13 of fellow cooks and neighbors. Overall, I seized every possible opportunity to 14 myself and to rebuild my life.

    Because of my resilience (复原力) in creating a new home for myself and the 15 that people have shown to me, home is right here.

You can't imagine how crazy I was about football when I was young. For years my life followed a(n) 1: I slipped out of the house, played football until dark and instantly I was infected with malaria. Football was so appealing that I was willing to 2 anything —injuries, punishment, and even sickness—to play it. Soon enough, my mother would rush me to the Sijuwade Hospital. There, the doctor said I needed to be 3 .

My dad often spent the night with me in the hospital while my mother 4 my sister at home. Then came the happiest 5 when my father told me wonderful stories.

My father was a(n) 6 storyteller. In the hospital, he would tell me a story or two, or, sometimes, if he was not too tired, many in response to my request. He 7 bicycle sounds and the howl of the wind so vividly that the pictures would never 8 from my mind. So happy were these moments that I sometimes wished to   9 my hospital stay.

Because of my mom's strict supervision, it became 10 difficult to steal out. No longer sick, no more stories. 11, I broke into my father's room one evening.

"Dad, you tell me stories only when I'm sick."

My father laughed, "You are already eight and can read by yourself!"

He 12 me a book and said, "Go and read that. It'll tell you stories."

I remember that night clearly. I opened the book and read what turned out to be the most 13 story that I had ever read.

What I discovered that night 14 my life. I became thirsty for books and became a voracious（求知欲强的）15 . I read in the mornings, at nights and in between. Through reading, I felt as though I were on the magical journey to the endless.