When I was 8 years old, I decided to run away from home after a quarrel with my mother. With my suitcase packed and some sandwiches in a bag, I started for the front door.
My mom asked where I was going. "I'm leaving home," I said.
"What's that you're carrying?" she asked.
"Some clothes and food," I replied.
"If you want to run away, that's all right," she said. "But you came into this home without anything and you can leave the same way."
I threw my suitcase and sandwiches on the floor and started for the door again.
"Wait a minute," Mom said. "You didn't have any clothes on when you arrived, and I want them back."
This infuriated me. I tore my clothes off — shoes, socks, underwear and all — and shouted, "Can I go now?"
"Yes," my mom answered, "but once you close that door, don't expect to come back."
I was so angry that I shut the door forcefully and stepped out of my home. Then I noticed that down the street two neighbor girls walking toward our house. I was so shy that I saw the big spruce(云杉) tree in our yard and jumped under the low-hanging branches. A pile of dried-up brown needles(针状物) were beneath the tree, and you can't imagine the pain those sharp needles caused to my body.
After I was sure the girls had passed by, I dashed to the front door and banged on it loudly. "Who's there?" I heard.
"It's Billy! Let me in!"
The voice behind the door answered, "Billy doesn't live here anymore. He ran away from home."
Glancing behind me to see if anyone else was coming, I begged, "Aw, c'mon, Mom! I'm still your son. Let me in!"
The door inched open and Mom's smiling face appeared. "Did you change your mind about running away?" she asked.
"What's for supper?" I smiled back.
