I sit outside of my daughter's nursery school classroom, patiently waiting for her. When the door opens, my daughter runs out with a broad smile. She 1 the excitement of school .

    “How was your 2?”I ask casually, while 3 wanting to hear every single detail. “It was so good, Mommy!” my daughter replies. That's it. That's all I 4.

    On the car ride home, I ask her a lot of questions. She answers me with a few words, but never goes into much 5. Usually she tells me that she wants to 6something else.

    It has only been a few weeks, but I still find it so 7 that my daughter has a whole morning in school without me. I 8 ask the teachers for details and I am often provided with the same 9 answers that my daughter gives.

    Now, three mornings a week, I close her classroom door behind me and she has her own 10. I am given some 11 of her days like apples glued onto paper trees and paint dirt under her fingernails.

    I know she 12 this privacy and the time to 13 a new environment and meet different kids. 14, I can't help but want to know about the details of her days. The ride home is the 15 time that she will provide me with some 16 about her morning.

    When we pull into the driveway, I change the 17 to something else. I am sure that my constant questions annoy her, so I try to 18 them to the car ride after school.

    I am 19 that my daughter doesn't quite know our driving route yet; she can't tell that I sometimes take the long way home, 20 we have those few extra minutes together.

    At the age of 13, I remember that my father would take me on short outings on Saturdays. On the way 1 from these trips, Dad frequently 2 at the Dairy Queen for 10-cent ice cream. Not every single time, just often enough. I couldn't 3 it, but I could hope and 4 from the time we started heading home to that 5 where we would either go straight for the ice cream or turn and go home 6. That corner meant mouth-watering excitement or 7.

    One day, we were 8 home, and I was hoping and praying for the beautiful sound of his 9. It came. “Would you like an ice cream today?” “That sounds 10, Dad!” But then he said, “It sounds good to me too, son. Would you like to 11 me today?”

    “Twenty cents!” I thought to myself, “I can afford it. I got 25 cents' pocket money and some extra for odd jobs. Well, 12 it is enough, ice cream isn't a good use of it.” Therefore, I said, “Well, in that case, I guess I'll 13.” My father just said, “Okay, Son.”

    But as we headed home, I realized how wrong I was and begged him to 14. But he just said, “That's okay, we don't really need one.” I felt 15 for my selfishness and ungratefulness. He didn't mind, or16 act disappointedly.

    From that I 17 generosity goes two ways and gratefulness sometimes costs more than “thank you”. On that day gratefulness would have cost 20 cents and it would have been the 18 ice cream I'd ever had.

    I'll tell you one more thing. We 19 another trip the next week. As we 20 the corner, I said, “Dad, would you like an ice cream today? My treat.”

    One morning last December, Bill McDonald read in the newspaper that a local man, Joe Day, was sick with lung cancer. That meant Day couldn't offer the splendidly lit, handmade Christmas displays which had1as many as 95,000 people to his house to admire them every2.

    It wouldn't be Christmas3Day's lights, thought McDonald. We must try to4him, McDonald decided.

    33 years ago when Day came home one afternoon from work, he found his five-year-old son Nicholas5for him, asking him to build a reindeer(驯鹿). Then they made it on the lawn together and 6up its cherry-red nose for the holidays.

    Each year, Day7 to his handmade works, placing the reindeer above his

    8and hanging so many lights9they were electric vines(藤) around his windows and doors. Finally thousands of lights, figures and models10his yard and extended to next door.

    Then11December 2009 when Day's cancer had spread to his liver(肝). After 19 rounds of chemotherapy(化疗) and 43 radiation treatments, he was12tired and depressed to celebrate Christmas.

    13McDonald called. “You don't know me,” McDonald said, “but I want to help you get your lights14.” McDonald gathered many people,15strangers, to set up Day's displays. For two days, more than 100 volunteers16in.

    On the evening of December 12, with crowds of volunteers cheering him on, Day17the switch(开关) and lit up the spectacle(壮观景象).

    Day's cancer is under18, and he looks forward to this year's Christmas. “In their hearts,” Day says, “people love to give.” He is19that his brilliant displays will continue to light up the darkness for many years to come20Bill McDonald has promise that he'll get the job done.

A Love Note to My Mom

    When I was a little girl, I would often accompany you as you modeled for fashion photographers. It was years later that I finally understood what role modeling 1 in your life. Little did I know you were 2every penny you earned to go to 3 school.

    I cannot thank you enough for 4 you told me one autumn afternoon when I was nine. After finishing my homework, I wandered into the dining room where you were buried 5 piles of law books. I was 6. Why were you doing what I do—memorizing textbooks and studying for 7? When you said you were in law school, I was more puzzled. I didn't know Moms 8 be lawyers too. You smiled and said, "In life, you can do anything you want to do."

    As young as I was, that statement kept 9 in my ears. I watched as you faced the 10 of completing your studies, starting companies with Dad, while still being a 11 and a Mom of five kids. I was exhausted just watching you 12. With your words of wisdom in my 13 mind, I suddenly felt unlimited freedom to dream. My whole world 14. I set out to live my life filled with 15 seeing endless possibilities for personal and professional achievements.

    Your words became my motto. I 16 found myself in the unique position of being either the first (woman doctor in Maryland Rotary) 17 one of the few women (chief medical reporters) in my field. I gained strength every time I said, "Yes, I'll try that."

    Encouraged by your 18 , I have forged ahead (毅然前行) with my life's journey, less afraid to make mistakes, and 19 meeting each challenge. You did it, and now I'm 20 it. Sorry, got to run. So much to do, so many dreams to live.

    Since I was young, my parents have encouraged me to watch the news every day to learn about major events in the world. And at school, my teacher urges us to study 1 so that we can one day become "global citizens".

    2, does simply having the skill of commenting on world affairs in fluent English make one a citizen of the 3? My experience in this summer school inspired me to 4 the answer, which would have been "Yes" if you had asked me this question earlier.

    In July, I 5 the PLE—Political science, Law and Economics—a session at the Yale Young Global Scholar Program. We had about 230 students 6 and about 45 percent of us were 7 students.

    We enjoyed lectures 8 by Yale professors and students. I was 9 with how the speakers stood on the stage. But more importantly, it was their 10 that impressed me most and made my experience in Yale especially 11.

    I talked to students from all over the world: a Palestinian girl told me the real living 12 of refugees (难民) in her country; a Greek guy 13 me to his country's government and people's attitude toward the debt crisis; a Mexican boy 14 the story behind his national flag, and how his country gained independence with me.

    By talking to them, I found myself opening a gate to a whole new world. I suddenly realized even if we're able to 15 different media and discuss world affairs in English, we're still 16. What really makes us think "internationally" is how we engage in 17 with people from different backgrounds and how we 18 their identities and opinions.

    If you were to ask me the question again, my answer would 19 be "No". To really 20 yourself a global citizen, open-mindedness and empathy are the real key.

    Paul looked out of the window of the classroom and sighed. The driveway was still 1 and it was getting dark. His dad had said that he would 2 him up by 5:30, but it was almost seven and Paul hadn't heard a word from him. Paul 3 to do some of his reading homework. 4, he couldn't help thinking of his dad. He knew that his dad had a 5 and a life, but he couldn't 6 why he was always breaking his 7.

    The next day at school, Paul didn't 8 his math homework. Paul's teacher noticed his unusually 9 performance and asked him why. Paul didn't want to 10 him. He knew that if he started talking a flood of 11 would pour out. He just wanted to be alone with his 12, so he sat there 13, not even looking at the teacher. "Well Paul, you can't have this thing 14 you up. The sooner you get it off your 15, the sooner you can heal."

    As Paul walked home from school, he 16 the things the teacher had told him. Paul knew that he hadn't 17 himself recently. Maybe he stopped doing his work because he was looking for 18 from his father. He realized that he wasn't just letting his dad 19 his plans, but he was letting him spoil his 20. He decided to take the teacher's advice.