Lily loved school. However, there was one class Lily worried about more than any other—art. She didn't know why she just wasn't any good at drawing, painting, or cutting.

Ms. Clay, the art teacher, stood at the front of the room. "Class, next Friday our school is going to have an art competition," she announced. Ms. Clay was a great teacher, and Lily liked her a lot. But this announcement made Lily nervous. "Everyone in the school will create a piece of artwork to show in the library. You can use the different types of artwork we have been studying." Ms. Clay was quite excited when she spoke while Lily found herself sinking lower in her chair.

Lily had the whole weekend to work on her project, but she could not think of anything to do. On Monday, Lily felt frightened, so after school Lily asked Ms. Clay if she could write an art paper instead of doing an art project.

"I understand this project scared you, Lily," Ms. Clay said. "Just remember, you can create any kind of art you want." Ms. Clay smiled at her. "Art is a person's way of expressing his or her feelings—it isn't always painting, drawing, or cutting. I know you will think of something very creative, and I can't wait to see it."

When Lily arrived home, she took out a piece of paper and a pencil. She remembered Ms. Clay's words. "Art is a person's way of expressing his or her feelings." Lily wrote the word "terrified" on her paper. She crumpled (揉皱) the paper and threw it to the side of her desk.

Then Lily stared at the crumpled ball. Suddenly an idea struck her.

Paragraph 1：

Why not create something out of crumpled paper?

Paragraph 2：

On Friday, Lily carefully carried her project into the library.

Eighty-year-old retired tailor, James McKay, spent Saturday night in prison after hitting 30-year-old Keith Smith over the head with his walking stick. McKay's wife, Laurene said that, while McKay is usually a（n）1 and pleasant person, he had been driven to this act of2 by literally getting wet just once too often. He could no longer3 it.

Smith lives above the McKays. He is a（n）4 gardener, and also a fish collector. Unfortunately, the water he5 over his balcony（平台）every day ended up on the McKay's floor, or too often, on the unsuspecting McKays themselves.

"For the last two weeks, since Smith moved into the flat above us, we dared not go onto our6 ," said Laurene. She added that it wasn't only the water7 their balcony from Smith watering his plants that8 them, but also the way he cleaned his fish9 . "We'd be sitting there happily reading our newspapers, when suddenly so much water would come from above that we'd be as wet as if we had10 with our clothes on! We could hardly11 the smell of fish!"

And on Saturday evening it was just too12 , "It was James' birthday," Laurene recalled, "and it was such a beautiful night to enjoy the starry night13 . I made him a birthday cake. The candles were a great sight as you can14 , but James didn't get to blow them out." Instead,

Smith15 one of his larger tanks over his balcony and both the McKays and the cake were wet through. "I have never seen him move so fast and I couldn't stop him. He was up there in a（n）16 ."

Smith is not going to take things further with the police. He has also17 to change his ways from now on. And what of James McKay? As he left the18 station,a large crowd of supporters sang him "Happy Birthday". "Definitely the most exciting birthday ever!" said the19 old man. "The best since my20 , I'd say!"

When I lived in Boston, I taught English as a second language to adult students from around the world. On the last day, they threw a nice party. I was amazed they had learned enough English {#blank#}1{#/blank#} （arganize） such an event altogether. At the end of the party, they proudly handed me a gift box. After the box {#blank#}2{#/blank#} （open）, I gently lifted a beautiful coat from it. "We went shopping for a new coat!" they all shouted {#blank#}3{#/blank#} wonderfully perfect English.

The year was 1937. I was seven years old. And I was with my father and mother, at a Chinese restaurant in Boro Park, Brooklyn. That was the first Chinese restaurant I ever ate at. I was always given food from the adults' orders.

I'm not sure when it was, but the time did come when I had my first order — Won-Ton soup, egg rolls and spare ribs. That made me excited. My father seemed to know the Chinese waiter, a young guy; his name was Jimmy. I remember being surprised that a Chinese man could have an American name.

Some months later, my father took me to a restaurant in Manhattan's Chinatown called The Rathskeller on Mott Street. This was my first time in Chinatown and I was very impressed by how different it was from Boro Park. We went there a few times. I just couldn't have enough of the food there.

In 1951, I was sent to work in the Hospital Treasurer's Office at Letterman Army Hospital. A colleague had an uncle who was a waiter at The Far East Cafe on Grant Avenue in the heart of San Francisco's Chinatown. Once a week, a group from the office would go there for lunch and my colleague's uncle would take good care of us. My favorite dish was Tomato Beef Chow Mein.

It wasn't until about 23 years later, in 1974, that I had my next serious relationship with the cuisine (菜肴) of China. I was lucky to take some cooking lessons provided by a famous Chinese restaurant's chef. Then my life entered a new phase (阶段). I didn't know it then, but some time later, it became clear to me that Chinese food would follow me through the days of my life.

I was so excited when Mrs. Burks announced we were going to the skating rink (溜冰场). I'd never been roller-skating and really wanted to learn how to skate. 

When we got there, everyone 1 inside. Some of us rented our skates and soon began lacing (系好鞋带) them up. Then, everyone but me 2 away from the wall and started skating.

3 onto the handrail (扶手), I pulled myself along the side as I tried moving my legs back and forth. After a few failed 4 , Mrs. Burks skated over to me.

"When you start to 5 , relax. If you struggle to keep from falling, you'll be more 6 to hurt yourself," said Mrs. Burks.

Mrs. Burks 7 for one of my hands. I took a deep breath and 8 her by the hand. As we moved away from the wall, she called out, "Get your 9 . Move your foot forward at an angle and then do the 10 thing with the other foot."

I tried to follow her 11 in every way. "That's good! You're moving your feet like you should. But remember to relax when you start to go down. Let's try again," Mrs. Burks said.

So I did. When I began losing my balance, I crumpled (倒下) to the floor, 12 . Mrs. Burks was right! It didn't 13 as much. I was able to get up faster and try again. 

Later I began to see how Mrs. Burks' guidance worked for other 14 . As long as I kept trying to do my best , I could learn something even when I 15 in those dark moments of my life. I could get back up, try again, and trust someone would be there to help me.

It was very late and everyone had left the cafe except an old man who sat in the shadow the leaves of the tree made against the electric light. In the day time the street was dusty,but at night the dew settled the dust and the old man liked to sit late because he was deaf and now at night it was quiet and he felt the difference,The two waiters inside the cafe knew that the old man was a little drunk,and while he was a good client they knew that if he became too drunk he would leave without paying,so they kept watch on him. 

"Last week he tried to commit suicide,"one waiter said. 

"Why?"

"He was in despair. "

"What about?"

 "Nothing. "

"How do you know it was nothing?" 

"He has plenty of money. "

They sat together at a table that was close against the wall near the door of the cafe and looked at the terrace(露台)where the tables were ll empty except where the old man sat in the shadow of the leaves of the tree that moved slightly in the wind. 

"The guard will pick him up,"one waiter said. 

"What does it matter if he gets what he's after?"

"He had better get off the street now. The guard will get him. They went by five minutes ago. "

The old man sitting in the shadow tapped his saucer with his glass. The younger waiter went over to him. 

"What do you want?"

The old man looked at him. "Another brandy,"he said. 

"You'll be drunk,"the waiter said. The old man looked at him. The waiter went away. 

"He'll stay all night,"he said to his colleague. "I'm sleepy now. I never get into bed before three o'clock. He should have killed himself last week. "

The younger waiter took the brandy bottle and marched out to the old man's table. 

"You should have killed yourself last week,"he said to the deaf man. The old man motioned with his finger. "A little more,"he said. The waiter poured on into the glass. "Thank you,"the old man said. The waiter took the bottle back inside the cafe. He sat down at the table with his colleague again.