One day, I went to my favorite cafe for lunch. I 1 a burger and went to the outdoor seats. While waiting for my meal, a homeless man on a bicycle stopped to ask if there was a grocery store nearby. After I gave him 2, he asked if I had 3 from Santa Clara University. (I was wearing a SCU T-shirt. )I told him, yes. Little did I know that this 4 response would lead to a 90-minute conversation. The man, Michael, told me he was very intelligent. 5, drug use had ruined both his formal education and his pursuit of 6 in his work. He drifted from one topic to another, 7 the fact that I was ready for my lunch.

    He clearly had more of a 8to talk than I did. I made every 9 to give him my full attention, never 10 our talk would go on and on... Eventually, I did eat my meal, bite by bite 11 responses in our conversation. Michael was a bit strange. 12 his interests and viewpoints. We had little in 13, but he was fascinated with talking with, as he 14 it,“intelligent people.” I have to admit, I wish our conversation had been 15 to ten or fifteen minutes, but when Michael finally 16 off, he thanked me for listening so 17 to him and for my 18 to talk with him for so long. It was then that I 19 that, just maybe, that was my purpose in life for today … to be there, in that place, at that time, to 20 in that conversation.

    When I was eight, I wrote my first poem. My mother read and cried, “Buddy, you didn't really write this beautiful poem!” Shyly, but 1, I said yes. She poured out her 2.“It was nothing short of talent!” “What time will Father be home?” I asked. I could 3 wait to show my work to him. I spent quite some time 4 for his arrival. I wrote the poem out in my finest flourish(花体字), drew a fancy border around it and 5 I placed it right on my father's plate on the dining table. My father had begun his motion-picture career as a writer. I was sure he would be able to 6 my poem.

    At almost 7 o'clock my father burst in. He seemed 7. He circled the dining-room table, complaining about his employees. 8 he paused and glared at his plate. “What is this?” He's reaching for my poem. “Ben, Buddy has written his first poem!” my mother began. “And it's beautiful, absolutely amaze...” “If you don't mind, I'd like to decide for myself.” Father said. I 9 my head as he read that poem. It was only ten lines. But it seemed to take hours. Then I heard him dropping the poem back on the table. Now came the moment of 10. “I think it's terrible,” he said. I couldn't look up. My eyes were getting 11.

    “Ben, these are the first lines of poetry he's ever written,” my mother was saying. “He needs encouragement.” “I don't know why.” My father held his ground. “Isn't there enough 12 poetry in the world already?” I couldn't 13it another second. I ran from the dining room crying. Up in my room I 14 myself on the bed and cried the worst of the disappointment out of me.

That may have been the end of the story, but not of its 15 for me. I realized how 16 I had been. I had a mother who said, “I think it's wonderful!” and a father who drove me to hear with “I think it's awful.” Every one of us needs that mother force, from which all creation flows; and yet the mother force alone is 17. It needs the balance of the force that 18, “Watch. Listen. Review. Improve.”

    Those 19 voices of my childhood ring in my ears through the years, like two opposing winds blowing me. 20 the two poles of confirmation and doubt, both in the name of love, I try to follow my true course.

    I remember believing in Santa when I was a very young girl. However, as I grew older, I learned many 1 that “proved” his nonexistence. Always 2 by nature, I was determined to use 3 to decide whether Santa Claus was 4

    The first year of tests5 when I was 5. I decided that if I 6 all night on Christmas Eve, I could see if Santa really came down the chimney. 7,that was a useless 8. I fell asleep that year, and when I woke up, I saw a 9wrapped present under the10.

    At age 7, I came up with another test to see if Santa was real. That year, I didn't send out my Christmas letter to Santa because I wanted 11 for Christmas, but this turned into a plot. By then, I 12 knew Santa wasn't real, but I wanted enough 13 to support this. That year was 14, because on Christmas Eve, my mother dragged me to our local Wal-Mart and led me around the toy section. I 15 to say a word, but did let my eyes 16 on a ballet set. I 17 that “Santa” wouldn't know what I wanted because he shouldn't be able to read my 18. However, mother would know everything that caught my eyes in the store. If I got the ballet set the next morning, I would have my evidence. Christmas morning, there was the ballet set, sitting under the tree again. 19 I didn't use it much, mother ended up returning it a few days later. She 20 Santa was generous enough to leave a receipt. That was the end to my task to discover the existence of Santa.

    We all love our parents and turn to them when we're in need, but would you like them to hear the 1 you have with your friends in the school playground or lunch queue? Social networking sites, such as micro-blog, blog and the Facebook, have actually become 2 of the school hallways(走廊), so would you add your parents as “friends” and allow them to 3 your online 4 and conversations with friends?

    In the past the generation gap included a technology gap, where children were 5 with latest technology and parents were left behind, content to continue their day-to-day lives as they always had because they had no 6 to be good at new technology. 7, more and more parents are beginning to 8 just how important social networks are in their lives. This realization has given many parents the 9 to educate themselves about social networking sites.

    These days many people are 10 to social networking sites because they can choose who they have around them; there's also a certain amount of control over 11 that we don't get in real life. Sometimes we feel that privacy is 12 when we must accept a “friend” request from a parent or family member.

    It's a difficult choice whether or not to allow a parent to become a part of our 13 lives. On the one hand we don't want to “refuse” their request because that might hurt their feelings or make them feel you have something to 14. On the other hand if you do accept, then you could have a(n) 15 of being watched and no longer feel 16 to comment or communicate the way you did before.

    A recent survey suggested that parents shouldn't take it personally if their child ignores their request: “When a teen ignores a parent's friend request, it doesn't 17 mean that they are hiding something, but it could mean that this is one part of their life where they want to be truly 18.” Perhaps talking with parents and giving explanations would help soften the 19 if you do choose not to 20 them to your friends list.

    Even though it was only October, my students were already whispering about Christmas plans. With each passing day everyone became more 1, waiting for the final school bell. Upon its2  everyone would run for their coats and go home, everyone except David.

    David was a small boy in ragged clothes. I had often 3 what kind of home life David had, and what kind of mother could send her son to school dressed so 4for the cold winter months, without a coat, boots, or gloves. But something made David 5. I can still remember he was always6 a smile and willing to help. He always 7after school to straighten (使变直)chairs and mop the floor. We never talked much. He 8just simply smile and ask what else he could do, then thank me for letting him stay and slowly9home.

    Weeks passed and the 10over the coming Christmas grew into restlessness(骚动) until the last day of 11 before the holiday break. I smiled in 12as the last of them hurried out the door. Turning around I saw David 13standing by my desk.

    "I have something for you" he said and 14from behind his back a small box.15it to me, he said anxiously, "Open it" I took the box from him, thanked him and slowly unwrapped it. I lifted the lid (盖子)and to my 16saw nothing. I looked at David's smiling face and back into the box and said, "The box is nice, David, but it's 17."

    "Oh, no, it isn't" said David. "It's full of love. My mum told me before she died that love was something you couldn't see or touch unless you know it's there."

    Tears filled my eyes 18I looked at the proud dirty face that I had rarely given19to. After that Christmas, David and I became good friends and I never forgot the meaning 20the little empty box set on my desk.

    Haze Mabry has just turned 80 years old, and on his birthday, just like every other day, he reported to Pike County Elementary in Georgia where he works as a cleaner, prepared to clean.

    But to his1, that day was different from any other day. Just as he was settling in for a day of work, he was2by more than 750 people, including students, teachers and staff,3the hallways.

    The students had made handmade4and banners(横幅), and they all sang happy birthday and shouted his name as he5by.

    "They're like my children ," Mabry said in a(n)6with The Washington Post ."I'm like the old lady in the shoe."

    Mabry makes a point of interacting(互动)with the7when he can ."I know the little faces, but I don't know every8,"Mabry said ."Some of them make you know them."

    The unexpected celebration at school9Mabry how valued(珍视) he is by students and teachers alike ."He's the most10person in this whole building ,"said teacher Lori Gilreath, who11his surprise ."He won't brag(吹嘘) on himself, but it doesn't12what he's doing or where he is, he will13stop what he's doing to take care of a child if that child is having a14day."

    Haze spent the whole following weekend15the pile of handwritten cards he16!

    Maybe we can't all organize something as17as this birthday celebration, but it's a18:take any chance you get to make someone's day19, and let them know how they are valued! It can make much20.