When I was growing up，I was embarrassed to be seen with my father. He was badly crippled (跛脚)，and when we would walk together，his hand on my arm for balance，people would stare，I would be ashamed of the unwanted attention.

    It was difficult to walk together—and because of that，we didn't say much as we went along. But as we started out，he always said，“You set the pace. I will try to follow you.”

    Our usual walk was to or from the subway，which was how he got to work. He went to work sick，and even in bad weather. He almost never missed a day，and would make it to the office even if others could not. It was a matter of pride for him.

    When snow or ice was on the ground，it was impossible for him to walk，even with help. At such times my sister or I would pull him through the streets of Brooklyn，N.Y.，on a child's sleigh to the subway entrance. Once there，he would try to grasp handrail until he reached the lower steps that the warmer tunnel air kept ice free. In Manhattan the subway station was the basement of his office building，and he would not have to go outside again until we met him in Brooklyn on his way home.

    When I think of it now，I am surprised at how much courage it must have taken for a grown man to suffer from shame and disability. And I am also surprised at how he did it—without bitterness or complaint.

    He never talked about himself as an object of pity，nor did he show any envy of the more fortunate or able. What he looked for in others was a “good heart”，and if he found one，the owner was good enough for him.

    Now that I am older，I believe that is a proper standard by which to judge people，even though I still don't know exactly what a “good heart” is. But I know the times I don't have one myself.

    He has been away for many years now，but I think of him often. I wonder if he sensed my reluctance to be seen with him during our walks. If he did，I am sorry I never told him how sorry I was，how unworthy I was，how I regretted it. I think of him when I complain about my troubles，when I am envious of another's good fortune，when I don't have a “good heart”．

    At the beginning of the century there was a big farm called Hollywood Ranch. It was near Los Angeles in California. A few years later Hollywood was one of the famous places in the world. From the 1910s to the 1950s Hollywood was the film center of the world. Every family knew the names of its film stars—Charlie Chaplin，Greta Garbo，Bergman and hundreds more.

    The reason why people went to Hollywood to make films was the sun. At first people made films in New York on the east coast of the United States. But then they heard about Los Angeles where there are 350 days of sun every year. As they made all the films by sunlight，the west coast was a much better place to work. Also near Hollywood you can find mountains and sea and desert. They did not have to travel far to make any kind of film.

    When TV became popular，Hollywood started making films for television. Then in 1970s they discovered people still went to the cinema to see big expensive films. After twenty years they are still making films in Hollywood and people watch them all over the world.

    I used to be ashamed 1my grandma. I know that's a terrible thing to say，but it was true until today，so I have to2it.

    The3started when my friend Katy found grandma's false teeth floating in a glass on the bathroom sink. I was so used to seeing them that I4took notice of them. But Katy shouted，laughing and 5to talk to them. I had to get down on my knees and6her to shut up so my grandma wouldn't 7and get hurt.

    After that happened，I8there were a million things about grandma that were embarrassing (令人窘迫的).

Once she took Jill and me out to Burger King.9 ordering our hamburgers well done，she told the person behind the counter，"They'll have two Whoppers (巨无霸) well to do." Jill burst out laughing，but I almost10.

    After a while，I started wishing I could11grandma in a closet. I even complained to my parents. Both my parents said I had to be careful not to make grandma feel12in our home.

    Then last Wednesday，something happened that13everything completely. My teacher told us to help find interesting old people and14them about their15for a big Oral History project. I was trying to think of someone when Angie pushed me gently.

"Volunteer your grandmother，"she whispered. "She's interesting and rich16experience."

    That was the last thing I ever thought Angie would say about my grandma.

    This is how I ended up on 17today interviewing my own grandmother before the whole school assembly. All my friends and teachers were listening to her18she was a great heroine. I was19of my grandma and hoped she would20know that I had been ashamed of her.