Bill, Frank, Dave and Tom were brothers. Every year they sent their mother expensive gifts on her birthday. They liked to show her how rich they were.

The eldest brother, Bill, had lots of money and wanted his mother to have the most expensive gift, but he didn't know what to buy. So he put an ad in the newspaper, "Wanted—the greatest gift for my mother”.

 About a week before his mother's birthday, a man came to his office. He brought a big bird, this bird can speak foreign languages and sing pop songs. The man made the bird talk in French and tell a joke in Japanese. Then the bird sang a beautiful song. The next day, Bill sent the bird to  his mother with a birthday card.

 The day after his mother's birthday, he called his mother, “Well, mother,” he asked, “what do you think of the bird?”"Oh, it's very delicious, dear." said his mother.

    My uncle has a very beautiful umbrella. He's had it for years. As he is very careful with it, so it still looks as good as new.{#blank#}1{#/blank#}He shook his head. "Then how did you get it?" I asked. "Well," he answered, "there's a strange true story about the umbrella. About ten years ago, I was walking along a quiet London street one evening when it suddenly rained. I had no raincoat or umbrella.{#blank#}2{#/blank#} And the people in the streets were fewer and fewer. As I was on my way to a party, I was afraid to get wet. So I stood in a doorway and waited for the rain to stop.

{#blank#}3{#/blank#} What was worse, there even wasn't a person around, and still it rained and rained. At last a young man came to the place where I was standing.{#blank#}4{#/blank#} As I hoped he would allow me to walk to the next corner with him, where I could get a taxi, I stepped out of the dark doorway where I had been standing.{#blank#}5{#/blank#} As I suddenly appeared before him, the young man was so shocked that he dropped the umbrella. He ran away and disappeared into the darkness. I picked up the umbrella and continued my walk. I knew it would be hard in this big city to find the owner, so I've kept it ever since."

    Miss Mitra didn't want to be a Sunday school teacher any longer. The students there were all rude and never listened to her. "I give up." She shouted at the students. "Cool." Rick said. He was the most impolite kid in this school. Two months later, Miss Betty Ray came to the school. She looked young. The students thought that she wouldn't stay very long.

    "Have any of you ever been out of state?" She asked in a friendly tone. A few hands went up.

    "Anyone has traveled to California?" One hand went up as the disrespectful(无礼的) laugh reduced.

    "Anyone visited outside the country?" No hands went up now. The silent kids were puzzled.

    Betty took a map of the world from her bag.

    "What else do you have there? Lunch?" Someone cracked.

    Betty smiled lightly and answered, "Cookies for later." "Cool," Rick quipped(困惑的).

    Then she pointed at a place on the map, "I was born here, and I lived here until I was about your age."

    "Is that Texas?" Someone asked.

    "No. Quite a long way from here. It is Mumbai in India."

    Betty fumbled again in her bag, this time pulling out some old wrinkled pictures along with a box of chocolate chip cookies. They passed the pictures around, viewing each with great interest.

    The kids studied them as they bit into the sweets.

    The hour quickly slid by as she told them her stories about faraway places and what the people were like there and how they lived.

    "Wow, this is as exciting as TV!" One young girl told her.

    Sunday after Sunday, Betty came to class, tying her lessons to their everyday lives. She told the kids how they could make a difference right now. The students grew to love her.

    Betty taught that Sunday school class for thirty years. At last, her hair grew into a natural gray.

    Every now and then, she received a letter from a former student. There was a doctor, a research scientist, a homemaker, a businessman, and many teachers among them. One day she pulled out a blue envelope from her mailbox. And there was a photo in it. Squinting her eyes, she smiled at the man in the photo, still seeing the boy in him. Standing in the rubble(瓦砾), in the city of Delhi, India, he came to help the homeless people in the earthquake. Some words were written in the upper part of the photo, "Because of you, I am here now."

    Bob was only seven years old. One night Bob was at home alone while his parents were out for a party. He had often stayed alone before, so he wasn't afraid. As he waited for his parents to return home, he watched a film on TV. His eyes became heavier and heavier as time passed by.

    Suddenly Bob's eyes opened wide- what was the sound in the next room? Bob heard the window being opened slowly. For a minute, Bob was so frightened that he could not move, and his body felt like ice. He knew that he couldn't lose his head and began to think of the things he could do.

    Again he heard the sound of someone trying to climb into his home through the window.

    Bob's drums were standing in the corner near the TV. "Wait, maybe there is something I can do," thought Bob. He beat his drums as hard as he could. The sound was so terrible that Bob surprised even himself. He also surprised the man in the window, who ran away as fast as possible. How clever he was!

It was raining heavily as I was walking up the hill towards the station at six o'clock on a Saturday morning. At this early hour there wasn't much traffic and there weren't many people. Just as I was crossing the road near the top of the hill, a car came around the corner. It was traveling very fast. Suddenly it hit a lamp post and turned over.

    I ran to the car to help the driver at once. He was badly hurt and there was a lot of blood on his face. A young woman hurried into the station and phoned for an ambulance, while I took care of the driver. Many people came to see what happened. A policeman arrived a few minutes later and asked me a lot of questions about the accident. After a while the ambulance arrived and the driver was sent to the hospital.

    On Monday morning I went to the hospital to see the man. The doctor told me that he was much better, and he would leave the hospital after a few day's rest.