There are many kinds of friends. Some are always 1 you, but don't understand you. Some say only a few words to you, but understand you. Many people will step in your life, but only 2 friends leave footprints (脚印).

    I shall always recall (回忆) the autumn and the girl with the 3.She will always bring back the friendship between us. I know she will always be my best friend.

    It was the golden season. I could see the yellow leaves 4 with the cool 5. In such a season, I liked walking alone in the leaves, 6to the sound of them.

    Autumn, for others, is a/an 7 season, while for me, it is an annoying season.The free days always get me 8.But one day, the sound of a violin9 into my ears like a stream (小溪) flowing in the mountains.I was so surprised that I jumped to see what it was. A young girl, standing in the wind, was 10 in playing her violin.

    I had11 seen her before. The music was so nice that I listened quietly. Lost in the music, I didn't know that I had been 12 there for so long but my existence (存在) did not seem to disturb her.

    Leaves were still falling. Every day 13 I passed by the lawn, I would see her playing her violin. I was the only listener. The autumn seemed no longer lonely and life became 14. 15 we didn't know each other, I thought we were already good friends. I believe she also loved me.

    Autumn was nearly over.One day, when I was listening carefully, the sound suddenly 16. To my astonishment (惊讶), the girl came over to me.

    “You must like violin.” she said.

    “Yes. And you play very well. Why did you stop?” I asked.

Suddenly, a 17expression appeared on her face and I could feel something unusual.

    “I came here to see my grandmother, but now I must leave. I once played very badly. It was your listening every day that 18 me.” she said.

    “In fact, it was your playing 19 gave me a meaningful autumn,” I answered, “Let's be friends.”

    The girl smiled, and so did I.

    I never heard her play again in my life. I no longer went downstairs to listen like before. Only thick leaves were left behind. But I will always remember the fine figure (身影) of the girl. She is like a 20—so short, so bright, like a shooting star giving off so much light that it makes the autumn beautiful.

    My 4-year-old son now enjoys posting letters. He has formed the 1 of drawing pictures, writing his name on them, and then  2 the artwork in an envelope. He then insists on 3 his handwork to the neighbors, and a mail box he 4 belongs to the elderly couple who live next door. To be 5, I didn't think much of it, but I had 6 to warn my neighbors of the drawings 7 appearing in their letterboxes—I just didn't have the 8 to do so, because I was a little busy recently.

    On Tuesday of last week, I was walking down to school to collect my son when I 9 Mary, my elderly neighbor, 10 at her mail box. She said, “Jodie, is it your little son that has been posting items in my letterbox to me?” I was at once 11, “Oh yes, Mary, it is. I'm sorry. I meant to tell you…” She cut me off, “Jodie, I just love his mail. I've 12 every item he has sent. You don't know how much 13 the letters has made my day. I just love them.” While I was walking down to school after our 14, many thoughts came to me. Mary doesn't have a lot to fill her days, 15 she was a mother to a number of children herself who receives fairly regular visitors. The small 16 of getting some mail—pictures drawn by the hand of a young child—has brought 17 to her days, just as my visit to my grandparents does.

    I have decided that my son should 18 this practice. He should also start sending some items to his grandparents in Perth as well. It will most 19 make their day.

    It's doing the little, simple things that can often make a big 20 in someone's life.

    I want to share a moving story with you. A friend, who started up and ran her own youth 1 group, lost her husband because of cancer 2 years ago. Almost after he 2 she found out that she had3too. She is still going strong and her 4is working well for now. She always has a smile and kind words for everyone, just as she usually did during the5 days.

    One of the 6 I have had over the years is to -take photographs7 candid(偷拍的) shots of people laughing and smiling. I have a great headshot of the fried and her husband, from about a year or 2 before he died. They 8have the loveliest smiles in the photo. An idea came into my mind when I 9the photo. So I ordered a(n)10 of it and put it into a nice frame for her. I gave it to her last night at a meeting of the theater group. I didn't know if she would like it, so I was very 11 of how it might go.12 there were floods of tears from her and a few other friends, we all had lots of hags and 13 It was a friendly and warm 14that I hadn't had for many years.

    My friend said, “It is one of the nicest 15 I have of him and, though I normally16pictures of myself, I love this one.” She couldn't17 me enough and was really shocked that I had done such a(n)18 thing for her. I felt it was only a 19 effort on my part, but it20 an amazing result.

    Everyone has something that he or she cherishes a lot.

    Dad had a green comb. He bought it when he married Mum. Every night, he would hand me his 1 and say, "Good girl, help Daddy clean it, OK?"

    I was 2 to do it. At age five, this dull task brought me such 3. I would excitedly turn the tap 4 and brush the comb carefully. Satisfied that I'd done a good job, I would happily return the comb to Dad. He would 5 affectionately at me and place the comb on his wallet.

    Two years later, Dad started his own 6, which wasn't doing so well. That was when things started to 7. Dad didn't come home as early and as much as he used to. Mum and I became 8with him for placing our family in trouble. With 9 , an uncomfortable silence grew between us.

    After my graduation, Dad's business was getting back on track. On my 28th birthday, Dad came home 10. As usual, I helped him carry his bags into his study. When I turned to leave, he said, "Hey, would you help me 11 my comb?" I looked at him a while, then 12 the comb and headed to the sink.

    It hit me then: why, as a child, 13 Dad clean his comb was such a pleasure. That routine meant Dad was home early to 14 the evening with Mum and me. It 15 a happy and loving family.

    I passed the clean comb back to Dad. He smiled at me and 16 placed his comb on his wallet. But this time, I noticed something 17. Dad had aged. He had wrinkles (皱纹) next to his eyes when he smiled, 18 his smile was still as 19 as before, the smile of a father who just wanted a good 20 for his family.

    I had ever been invited to see a performance. That day I met a brave and talented boy I would never1. The young musician, Mr. Patrick Henry Hughes, was rolled onto the stage in his wheelchair and began to play the2. His fingers danced across the keys as he made beautiful3. He then began to sing as he played, and it was even more4. I was seeing something5in his face. It was something that I6can't explain. And his smile was magic!

    He was born with no7and a pair of paralyzed（瘫痪的）legs. As a child, he was fitted with man-made eyes and8in a wheelchair. Today, Patrick is a junior. His father9classes with him and he's made nearly all As.

    But more than his10musical talent, it was Patrick's "attitude of gratitude" that11my soul. On stage, between songs, he talked to the12about his life and about how blessed he was. He said, "God made me blind and unable to13. BIG DEAL! He gave me the ability, the musical14I have and the great opportunity to meet new people."

    I15a quote, "Life is not about waiting for the storms to pass; it's about learning to16in the rain!"

    I thought that's it! We all17adversity(不幸）in our life. However, it's not the adversity, but how we react to it that will determine the joy and18in our lives. During19times, do we spend too much time we feeling sorry for ourselves, or can we, with gratitude,20how to dance in the rain?

I grew up hiking and climbing mountain s a lot. It was my dad who accompanied me and taught me how to hike and climb mountains. On our first hike, our group ran ahead without us. Dad and I ended up 1 the path toward the top. This was the 2 part of the climb, where we had to climb rocks. I was scared not to have the path to tell us where to go. Mainly, I was afraid that Dad would fall off the mountain when he went 3 to seek for the best way for me to climb up. I was grateful for his 4 . He always made me feel like I was safe with him — even when he insisted that we should not 5 .

When we were close to the top, we 6 some hikers. One of them crouched (蹲) down on a rock, grasping at branches of a bush. His face was 7 and looked frozen, like a statue. Dad asked what was going on. The man 8 told him that he was frightened of 9 . In my 7-year-old mind, I thought, "But, you're climbing a mountain!" Dad always helped people in trouble. He told the man to 10 him while he led him to a spot below that was 11 by trees, with no view of the valley below. Dad told him to wait there for his group of hikers to come back and 12 him up. Dad taught me sympathy and to help others in need whenever I can.

When we finally reached the top and 13 our group, we sat on the highest point, looking at the breathtaking scenery. I was so 14 we hadn't stopped halfway. Dad taught me, "Don't give up, especially when you're almost there." This has been a valuable 15 that has got me through some big challenges in my life.