Mother, will you and Father come back this year?

Killing the family animal for the Spring Festival has been a time-honoured tradition in rural China.

Why do other parents remember their children’s birthdays? Why are my parents always forgetting about mine? The more I thought about it, the sadder I felt. Eating the delectable treat, I found tears welling up in my eyes, trickling down my cheeks, and eventually running all over my face in a torrent.

Full of appreciation to Miss Meng, I practised my English pronunciation on the repeater before bed almost every evening. The day before the exam, Miss Meng gave me her best wishes.

The girl wept as if a river bank had been burst. Hearing the loud free sobs, Mengqing smiled to herself. She exited the toilet, fully convinced that the weeper would feel all right after the vent.

Every day before my parents made it home, I prepared rice and dishes for them. Thanks to my new role in the kitchen, Mother did not need to bother about cooking any more after work. Thus, she was able to take the time to put her feet up and relax. I felt proud.

What gave him away was that he was reading the book upside down. It dawned on me that he was not a straight guy. The very thought sent chills down my spine, but I told myself to stay calm.

Looking back on the experience, I realise that I was not as firm as I had thought. It is no use crying over spilt milk. It is a blessing that the aborted run has taught me to think twice before I give up in future lest I rue it. If I have trouble carrying on with what I have set my mind upon, I will stay the course and go the extra mile.

I made a very foolish blunder at the sports meeting. My folly cost a girl a chance to win. I owe her an apology.

The invisible bond between Mum and me helped me sense intuitively that she was in danger the very day she was in an accident.