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<title>Reader's Digest Asia Magazine - My Story</title>
<link>http://www.readersdigest.com.my/rd/rdhtml/en/magazine/mag_archive.jsp?ccid=51</link>
<description>Reader's Digest Asia - My Story</description>
<lastBuildDate>Wed, 26 Nov 2008 10:51:00 -0000</lastBuildDate>

<item>
<title>The Grand in Grandmother</title>
<link>http://www.readersdigest.com.my/rd/rdhtml/en/magazine/mag_content.jsp?cid=6679</link>
<description>When I was growing up, my parents took teaching jobs in a remote town in Quezon Province </description>
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<item>
<title>My Unexpected Teacher</title>
<link>http://www.readersdigest.com.my/rd/rdhtml/en/magazine/mag_content.jsp?cid=6678</link>
<description>During my first seven semesters as a medical student at Gadjah Mada  University </description>
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<item>
<title>Newton's Lore</title>
<link>http://www.readersdigest.com.my/rd/rdhtml/en/magazine/mag_content.jsp?cid=6681</link>
<description>Grantham is a market town in the English county  of Lincolnshire  . Its most famous son is Sir Isaac Newton, one of the foremost scientists in world history. A statue of the great man stands proud and erect in the town centre, with the name ''Newton </description>
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<item>
<title>Romance in the Wash</title>
<link>http://www.readersdigest.com.my/rd/rdhtml/en/magazine/mag_content.jsp?cid=6397</link>
<description>"You don't understand! You are going to make me die an old maid! You don't even know what romance is!" </description>
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<item>
<title>The Medicine for Grief</title>
<link>http://www.readersdigest.com.my/rd/rdhtml/en/magazine/mag_content.jsp?cid=6266</link>
<description>It was a story I heard often during my two weeks in Northwest Afghanistan with a team of volunteers from Singapore and Malaysia. It was June 2002, seven months after the Taliban had been driven from power.  </description>
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<item>
<title>Plane Rides Make Fathers Cry</title>
<link>http://www.readersdigest.com.my/rd/rdhtml/en/magazine/mag_content.jsp?cid=6269</link>
<description>Having raised five children, I knew that it would be better to let his emotions cool down and pursue the matter later, rather than force the truth out of him then and there. </description>
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<item>
<title>My True Love</title>
<link>http://www.readersdigest.com.my/rd/rdhtml/en/magazine/mag_content.jsp?cid=5754</link>
<description>Almost 30 years ago, Khin Khin Lay and I were medical students in the town of Mingaladon, 17 kilometres north of the capital Yangon, then called Rangoon. We were together all the time - attending lectures and tutorial classes, doing laboratory experiments and studying bedside cases. </description>
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<title>I Designed a Dog</title>
<link>http://www.readersdigest.com.my/rd/rdhtml/en/magazine/mag_content.jsp?cid=5295</link>
<description>While working with the Royal Guide Dog Association of Australia as its puppy-breeding manager in the early '80s, I received a request from Hawaii. A vision-impaired woman there, whose husband was allergic to dog hair, had written to our centre in the hope that we might have an allergy-free guide-dog. </description>
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<item>
<title>Standing By</title>
<link>http://www.readersdigest.com.my/rd/rdhtml/en/magazine/mag_content.jsp?cid=5264</link>
<description>I knew Jefri* for only a few years, but I came to like him very much. I originally met him through my husband Danial*. They went to school together, and later, when Danial went overseas to pursue his engineering degree, Jefri stayed in Malaysia and attended a local university.  </description>
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<title>My First Day in a Refugee Camp</title>
<link>http://www.readersdigest.com.my/rd/rdhtml/en/magazine/mag_content.jsp?cid=5108</link>
<description>The whispers and giggles woke me up. I felt the cold, hard surface of the table on which I was sleeping, and sat up quickly. Across the room, curious children peeked over the open window’s edge. Feeling a little embarrassed to be caught sleeping on the table, I waved them off and got myself together – refugee camp or not, I still needed the first few minutes of the day to myself.  </description>
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<item>
<title>The Old Bicycle</title>
<link>http://www.readersdigest.com.my/rd/rdhtml/en/magazine/mag_content.jsp?cid=4682</link>
<description>In a village in Selangor, Malaysia, where I grew up, coconut trees shaded the wooden houses, where fathers bowed to the earth working the paddy, mothers stayed at home and their children ran around barefoot. </description>
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<item>
<title>On the Beach</title>
<link>http://www.readersdigest.com.my/rd/rdhtml/en/magazine/mag_content.jsp?cid=4455</link>
<description>When the phone call came through, it took but a moment to dash the hopes I’d held for days. I thought I’d had an excellent chance of landing my dream job, but it wasn’t to be.  </description>
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<item>
<title>From Small Things</title>
<link>http://www.readersdigest.com.my/rd/rdhtml/en/magazine/mag_content.jsp?cid=4415</link>
<description>I’m sure many great, powerful and rich people think about how they can make a difference in the world. There are so many big problems, and they require big solutions, right? </description>
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<title>My Mother's Hands</title>
<link>http://www.readersdigest.com.my/rd/rdhtml/en/magazine/mag_content.jsp?cid=4277</link>
<description>I remember sitting at the kitchen table in our Kuala Lumpur home when I was eight, watching my mother fix dinner. Before doing anything else, she would always take off her silver wedding band and place it on the counter. I remember playing with it, running my fingers over the grooves of the simple design.  </description>
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<title>Two Mothers, One Message</title>
<link>http://www.readersdigest.com.my/rd/rdhtml/en/magazine/mag_content.jsp?cid=4047</link>
<description>Every time somebody asked me about my future ambitions when I was growing up in Pakistan, I always replied, “I want to become a doctor.” The white coat and stethoscope attracted me so much – I would play with my toy doctor’s kit for hours and hours.  </description>
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<title>One Thousand Jiaozi</title>
<link>http://www.readersdigest.com.my/rd/rdhtml/en/magazine/mag_content.jsp?cid=3569</link>
<description>My love for jiaozi goes back to my childhood in Yantai, Shandong Province. Each year as the Lunar New Year drew nigh, Mum would exhort me and my six brothers and sisters, ''You must be good and obedient, or else you will not be allowed to taste my special New Year jiaozi.'' At that time, we were poor and needy; with seven children to be fed, we knew well what that gourmet deprivation meant. We behaved ourselves and waited with great expectation for the magic day to come.  </description>
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<title>Time Travels</title>
<link>http://www.readersdigest.com.my/rd/rdhtml/en/magazine/mag_content.jsp?cid=3304</link>
<description>The dining set was made of dark hardwood with cushions covered in red leather. It was the perfect hiding place for hide and seek. Lying flat across the seat of two chairs tucked underneath the table, I was invisible. If anyone peeked under the table, they would see nothing but table and chair legs.  </description>
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<title>Healing the Wounds of War</title>
<link>http://www.readersdigest.com.my/rd/rdhtml/en/magazine/mag_content.jsp?cid=2980</link>
<description>One day in January 1945, Mother asked me to prepare our horse and caretela carriage so she could go see a doctor. While I was in the fields looking for the horse, I came upon several men chasing a Japanese soldier. Forgetting my task, I immediately joined the chase.  </description>
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<item>
<title>Hope Times Two</title>
<link>http://www.readersdigest.com.my/rd/rdhtml/en/magazine/mag_content.jsp?cid=2852</link>
<description>with the arrival of our beautiful twin girls, we were on top of the world.After spending the day at the hospital, my mother and I went home at about 9 pm, while my sister-in-law Elmira, who had travelled from Moscow to be with us, stayed on with Nafisa and the babies.  </description>
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<title>Growing Up in Five Minutes</title>
<link>http://www.readersdigest.com.my/rd/rdhtml/en/magazine/mag_content.jsp?cid=2851</link>
<description>I liked to think of myself as a grown man, but consternation was eatiaway at my bravado like a starved piranha devouring its prey. The storm grew stronger. The lights went off. The clock struck nine. I began to cry.  </description>
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