Jenna, a popular girl from Westwood Middle School, had graduated first in her class and was ready for new1 in high school.

However, high school was different. In the first week, Jenna went to tryouts{#blank#}1{#/blank#}(选拔赛) for cheerleaders{#blank#}2{#/blank#}(啦啦队队员). She was competing against very talented girls, and she knew it would be2 for her to be selected. Two hours later, the3 read a list of the girls for a second tryout. Her heart was down as the list ended without her name. Feeling4 , she walked home carrying her schoolbag full of homework.

Arriving home, she started with maths. She had always been a5 maths student, but now she was struggling. She moved on to English and history, and was happy to find that she didn't have any trouble with those subjects. Feeling better, she decided not to6 maths for the time being.

The next day Jenna went to see Mrs Biden about being on the school7 . Mrs Biden wasn't as8 as Jenna. "I'm sorry, but we have enough9 for the newspaper already. Come back next year and we'll talk then." Jenna smiled10 and left. "Why is high school so11 ?" she sighed.

Later in maths class, Jenna devoted herself to figuring out the problems that had given her so much12 . By the end of class, she understood how to get them right. As she gathered her books, Jenna decided she'd continue to try to fit in at her new school. She wasn't sure if she'd13 , but she knew she had to try. High school was just as her mum had said, "You will feel like a small fish in a big pond14 a big fish in a small pond. The challenge is to become the15 fish you can be."

In 2015 my husband and I spent some days traveling in Sahara Desert. I was super 1 to ride a camel for the first time and spent a night in a tent in the desert.

2 , the ride started with me hanging upside down from the saddle (鞍) with one3 in the air. Bob, my camel, had decided to stand up4 I could settle in. I held onto the saddle5 as the guide pushed me up onto the camel's back. Bob6 a sound of disapproval and we rode off. I thought it would be bumpy (颠簸的); but it was a very7 journey all the way8 the fact that the camel in front was having a bad case of gas.

After dinner, we returned to the tent for sleep. Even in several thick blankets, I was 9 from head to toe while my husband fell asleep straight away. Thankfully, I drifted into dreamland gradually, only to be 10 by an unusual noise, followed by a(n)11 smell. I tried to go back to sleep, but another unpleasant smell and more 12 , which went on for hours.

After what felt like a 13 night, it was time to rise to watch the sunrise. I dragged my sleepy body out. There, 14 just outside was Bob, who made direct eye contact with me and I promised I 15 a broad grin on his face.

Dora Kellert was the school's spelling bee champion, winner of the reading contest at the public library three summers in a row and the playground grand champion in chess. She was a straight-A student.

Though Dora was talented, she was no good at sports. She could not figure out in which direction to kick the soccer ball. She was no good at baseball or basketball either. It wasn't until last year, when she was eleven years old, that she learned how to ride a bike. And even then she had to use training wheels.

"I'll never be good at sports," she thought one day as she lay on her bed staring at the shelf her father had made to hold her trophies (奖杯). "How I wish I could win something, anything, even marbles (弹珠)."

At the word "marbles," she sat up, "That's it. Maybe I could be good at playing marbles." She jumped out of bed and found a can full of her brother's marbles. "Yes," she thought. "I could play marbles, and marbles is a sport." At that moment she realized that she had only three weeks to practice. The playground championship was coming up. She had a lot to do.

To strengthen her wrists (腕关节), she decided to do twenty push-ups on her fingertips, five at a time. By the end of the first set she was breathing hard. She did one more set and decided that was enough push-ups for the first day. She squeezed (握) a rubber eraser one hundred times, hoping it would strengthen her thumb (大拇指). This seemed to work because the next day her thumb was painful. She could hardly hold a marble in her hand, so Dora rested that day and listened to her brother's tips on how to shoot.

After school the next day she practiced three hours straight. After practice, she squeezed the eraser for an hour. Practice, practice, practice. Squeeze, squeeze, squeeze. Dora got better and even beat her brother for the first time.

注意：

1）续写词数应为150左右；

2）请按如下格式在相应位置作答。

Time flew and soon came the big day.

Dancing home, she placed the trophy on the middle of the shelf.

A farmer grew some vegetables in his garden. One day his wife was ill and he had no money. He had to sell some cabbages and carrots in the market. The next morning he took two baskets of vegetables to town. But it was raining hard that afternoon and there were few people in the street. When his vegetables were sold out, it was dark. He bought some medicine and hurried to his village. 

On his way home he saw a person lying on the snow. He placed his baskets on the ground and was going to help the person to get up. At that time he found it was a dead man and there was much blood on his body. He was so afraid that he ran away quickly, without taking the baskets with him. 

The next afternoon the farmer was sent to the police station. Having shown the baskets, an officer asked: "Are these yours?" "Yes, sir." the farmer answered timidly (胆怯)."Have you killed the man?" "No, no, sir." the farmer said in a hurry. "When did you see the dead man?" "About seven last evening." "Did you see who killed the man?" "No, Sir." The officer brought out a knife and asked, "Have you seen it yet?" "No, Sir." The officer became angry and told the policemen to beat him up and send him into prison. 

That evening the officer went on trying. Pointing to the knife, he asked again, "Have you seen it yet?" "Yes, Sir." The officer was happy and asked, "When and where?" "I saw it here this afternoon, sir."

I've been writing now for 34 years. It all started when I was just 18 years. As a boy growing up, I probably read hundreds of books. I read mysteries, science fiction, thrillers, and just about any other type of book I could find. I had a thirst for knowledge that never seemed to disappear, no matter how many books I read over the years.

Then suddenly, I found that I too had ideas of my own that I wanted to write and share. I wanted to share things that were full of goodness, love, joy, and happiness. I tried to ignore my desire at first, but as any writer will tell you, once ideas awaken inside of you, they don't leave you alone until you write them down. I didn't have a computer, or even a typewriter, but I grabbed a pen and a notebook and wrote down everything that was burning inside of me.

When I was finally done, I didn't know how to share my work with the world. There was no Internet back then, no smartphones, and no social media. However, I sought out the editor of my local newspaper and asked if he would like to print what I'd written. He was a good man, full of both wisdom and kindness. He not only printed my first story but agreed to publish anything else I was willing to write.

After that, of course, nothing could stop me. I continued to write new articles each week, which were published in different local papers and later on the Internet. Years later I even self-published two collections of my stories in book form.

Through my writing, I slowly became a better person. Writing allowed me to discover the goodness and light that exist in us all. I also found that we are all writers whether we put pen to paper or not.

With every choice we make, with every thought we think, and with every action we take, we are writing our own life story.