Miss Zhong  Location:TX 

    A few weeks back, my roommate stumbled upon a Chinese Christian church. Everyone in the church showed exceptional warmth—the ministers and pastors’ wives often provided us student workers with free daily essentials. There was Aunt Meilan, who once cooked a giant pot of curry so soul-warming that I almost cried. After delivering the curry to our door, she led my first-ever prayer session before dinner, which was a quietly miraculous experience. My roommate told me that they’d attended several prayers already, finding them comforting too.

    Recently, a woman from the church messaged our group: "Do you need anything from Houston’s Chinatown? I’m heading there." True to her word, she delivered self-funded supplies to our doorstep the next day. Though I missed her message and requested nothing, her kindness moved me deeply. However, I kept my trust measured—acquaintances remain strangers; convenience shouldn’t dissolve caution.

    Lately I’ve notched up small victories at work—consistently hitting daily targets. This morning, when scrolling through my phone, I discovered my manager’s 11 PM message from yesterday: “Perfect completion of today’s goals!” That achievement earned me a spin on the reward wheel today—and I landed multiple prizes! This wonderful experience has kept me driven every single day since.

    I've been working the early shift for the past few days. This morning, something alarming happened: I had set my alarm for 5:00, but the volume was likely too faint, so I never heard it and slept straight through until 6:30. Salvation came when a roommate’s phone ring woke her—"Don’t you work today?" she mumbled. Panic spiked—I’d need 30 minutes to bike there by 7:00! But when I checked my phone, I found a glimmer of hope: the manager had sent a text message at 11 PM yesterday, adjusting my shift to 7:30 AM. This finally put my mind at ease, as I still have some time to get to work and wouldn't be late. To be honest, I really hate the feeling of being late, as it ruins my mood for the entire day.

    One benefit of working morning shifts is finishing relatively early, typically around 4 or 5 PM. Recently after clocking out, I have frequently gone alone to sit by the seaside, quietly observing the scenery. Gazing at the boundless ocean—deep and blue—I recall animated films or movies from my childhood featuring mermaids and sea adventures.

Miss Xie  Location:New Mexico

    This week flashed by, packed with events both normal and special. One incident left me with lingering unease: My friend left her backpack in a spot where everyone deemed secure. She then left for a moment, and when she returned, her backpack was gone.

    Later, we reviewed the surveillance cameras showing thieves who made no attempt to cover their faces, but they were unfamiliar to us all. Reporting to the police that night proved impossible, because no officers were available for immediate dispatch at night. So we could only file the report the following morning.

    A full day passed with no investigative leads emerging, an outcome we'd anticipated yet remained powerless to change. What’s more, the other night in this week brought a different challenge: My bedroom door autolocked and jammed irreversibly, resisting all key attempts. So in the early hours of the morning, I found myself wretchedly dismantling the doorframe just to regain entry.

Mr. Huang  Location:WI

    As dusk gently saturated the horizon, the closing whistle echoed sharply. Laughter and voices in the pool area faded like receding water, leaving only the pool’s surface gleaming with a tired yet tranquil blue in my vision. Cicadas wove a dense sonic net along my walk back that enveloped my limbs and lingering alertness. When I lay down and closed my eyes, sunlight reflections from the water still flickered restlessly behind my eyelids. Yet my fingers unconsciously mimicked the rhythm of CPR compressions, a pulse that seeped into deeper dreams. I realized then that guardianship weighed heavier than physical endurance—it was the mind’s silent rehearsal of crisis within every calm, a submerged current of vigilance.

    During a chaotic afternoon, a sudden cough pierced the water’s surface. My leg muscles snapped taut like bowstrings until I saw the splashing teenager surface unharmed. Only then did I release a held breath, though cold sweat had already bloomed on my uniform like a tide-stain of adrenaline. Heat radiated from the training ground. Yet when the faint pulse line on the mannequin’s cardiac monitor finally steadied under sustained compressions, it felt as if true life struggled forth from my aching arms—a rebirth forged through exhaustion.

Mr. Wu  Location:VA

    Another week passed swiftly—time truly flew when routines settled. With over half of my internship days in the U.S. gone, I found that accustomed routines accelerated the days. After my new Chinese friend moved in, we’ve done everything together: we jogged together every morning, took evening walks after work, and shopped at supermarkets jointly.

    Since he came from Xinjiang province, China, he shared Xinjiang customs with me, and we often exchanged hometown foods. I never expected to eat Xinjiang pilaf in America—an absolute delight! At work, we had a 15-minute break hourly. My colleagues and I fully utilized these intervals for exercise or basketball.

    Regular physical activity enabled us to connect more closely with community members. Whenever I started my shift, residents who saw me offered friendly greetings and high-fives. Everyone in this neighborhood was so warm-hearted, which made the work environment quite pleasant.

MIss Yang  Location:VA

    After completing my first month interning at the surf shop, I finally explored the coastal area thoroughly. Last week I joined a dolphin-watching tour with a local captain whom regular customers recommended. When I watched dolphins leap from the water at dawn, the sight deeply moved me. I also experienced parasailing; the aerial view of the emerald coastline was so magical! Then I understood why seasoned surfers at our shop always said, "Coastal life means nothing without adventure."

    Back at work, these personal experiences helped me recommend local activities to tourists more vividly. I even compiled a "hidden-gem beach guide" and posted it near the checkout counter, which unexpectedly received positive feedback. What’s more, at work, I handled most rental and sales transactions independently, working with greater ease.

    After each shift, I lingered at the beach daily—either practicing paddling with shop boards or watching sunsets on the sand. This internship has given me far more than I ever anticipated.