I was unbelievably proud of my nine-year-old daughter, Emily. 1 to buy a mountain bike, she'd been saving her pocket money all year, as well as doing small jobs to earn extra money. By Thanksgiving, she had collected only $49. I said, “You2 have your pick from my bicycle3.”

    “Thanks, Daddy. But your bikes are so old.” She was right. All my girls' bikes were 1950s models, not the kind a kid today would4choose.

    As Christmas5 near, Emily and I went bike shopping. As we left one store, she 6 a Salvation Army（基督教慈善组织） volunteer standing next to a big pot. “Can we give something, Daddy?” she asked. “Sorry, em, I'm out of change.” I said.

    Throughout December, Emily continued to 7 hard. Then one day, she made a 8 announcement. “You know all the money I've been saving?” she said hesitantly. “I'm going to give it to the poor people.” So one cold morning before Christmas, Emily handed her total savings of $58 to a volunteer who was really very9.

    10 by Emily's selflessness, I decided to contribute11 of my old bicycles to a car dealer who was collecting used bikes for poor children. 12 I selected a shiny model from my collection, however, it seemed as if a second bike took on a glow（发光）.Should I contribute two? No, one would be enough. But I couldn't 13 the feeling that I should give a second bike. When I later 14 the bikes, the car dealer said, “You're making two kids very 15, sir. Here are your tickets. For each bicycle contributed, we're16 away one chance to win a girls' mountain bike.”

    Why wasn't I surprised when that second ticket proved to be the 17? I like to think it was God's way of 18 a little girl for a sacrifice 19 her years—while giving her dad a lesson in the20.

    The young seal couldn't have been more than two days old, and yet he was all alone. Sometimes he would swim1, but he always came back. At first we thought it was2that he kept swimming back to us, until we noticed that he obviously had been3, and had nowhere else to go. We call him “Curious George”.

    Without his mother's milk, George appeared very4with his eyes closed. I jumped into the water and swam up to him,5we were less than two feet away. My heart went out to George and I just hope that he had the 6 to interact with me. Suddenly, he7his eyes and immediately he jumped up between my arms, putting his head against my chest. It was a(n)8 moment. But I knew that George wouldn't9without some help.

We10the local conservation volunteers. They were11that in the absence of his mother, he had developed a12relationship with us. They promised they would bring him to an area with13people living there and keep an eye on him. Even though it hurt to see him14, we knew that he was in better hands.

    The next day we15the conservation volunteers and asked how George was doing.16the volunteers informed us that he was too close to humans, we realized that was probably our17! They decided to bring him to a small island wildlife preserve with a lot of seals in the area, where they could better 18 him.

    A week later, we called again, and were informed that George was19in the water swimming with other seals. George was20. And he will always swim in my heart.

    As my husband, Doug, stood on the busy New York city street to stop a taxi, I tried to protect my daughter from the cold December wind and rain. I put my head down to kiss her tiny face.

    1 and wet, my husband gave up his attempt to nag down a taxi. I knew the 2.Just after her first birthday, we were told our daughter Katie has a 3brain illness. Since that moment, Doung and I felt like runners in a marathon race where the finish line kept4 . We knew Katie was runn.ng out of 5. It had taken months before we finally had a name for the 6 ， but we were told only a few specialists in the world knew how to7 it. Now, as we finally found a brilliant doctor to 8 our girl, we were in a strange9 in the cold rain.

    Just at the moment, a middle-aged woman pulled over and said, “Pardon me? May I offer you a(n)10?”

    Before we could say anything, she continued, “It's really no11for me. Just get in.”

    It was then that I noticed her thick Irish accent, which 12me up like hot soup. We simply said, “Thanks! Roosevelt Hospital, please,” as we got in her car for the ride.

    “Are you going13the baby?” she asked us.

    I nodded my head, holding back my 14.

    At the hospital, we 15her a dozen times for the ride. As the woman hugged me, I16her face was wet with tears. She promised to17for us before she left.

    After three more visits to New York and two more 18surgeries (手术)，Katie is cured. But the 19 of the Irish Angel still rang as a constant reminder of a tiny ray of light that appeared in our20 days.

    I do voluntary work for an organization that helps the people in need in Haiti. Recently I took my son Barrett there for a week, hoping to 1 him.

    Before setting out, I told Barrett this trip would be tiring and 2. For the first two days, he said almost nothing. I worried the trip was too 3 for a 17-year-old. Then on day three, as we were 4 over high rocky mountains, he turned to me and grinned（咧嘴笑）,"Pretty hard."

    After that there was no turning back. A five-year-old girl, wearing a dress several sizes 5 large and broken shoes, followed Barrett around, mesmerized（着迷）. He couldn't stop 6. Later he said 7. "I wish I could speak French." I was 8－this from a boy who hated and 9 French classes throughout school.

    Usually silent, he 10 Gaby, our host, and kept asking questions about the country and its people. He blossomed（活泼起来）.

    11 , the moment that really took 12 breath away occurred in a village deep in the mountains. I was 13 a woman villager for an article. 135 centimeters tall, she was small in figure but strong in 14. Through determination, she had learned to read and write and 15 to become part of the leadership of the 16.

    Learning her story, Barrett was as 17 as I by this tiny woman's achievements. His eyes were wet and there was a 18 of love and respect on his face. He had finally understood the importance of my work.

    When leaving for home, Barrett even offered to stay 19 as a volunteer. My insides suddenly felt struck. This 20 achieved all I'd expected. Soon he will celebrate his 18th birthday. He'll be a man.

    When I was about 12, I had an enemy, a girl who liked to point out my 1. Week by week her list grew: I was very thin; I wasn't a 2student; I talked too much; I was too3, always feeling superior to(胜过)others, and so on. I tried to hear all this as long as I could. 4, I became very angry. I ran to my father with 5in my eyes.

    He 6 to me quietly, and then he asked. "Are the things she says true or not? Janet, didn't you ever 7 what you're really like? Well, you now have that girl's 8. Go and9a list of everything she said and mark the points that are10. Pay no attention to the other things she said."

    I did11 he told me. To my great12, I discovered that about half the things were true. Some of them I couldn't 13 (like being very thin), but a good number I could – and suddenly I wanted to change. For the first time I went to a fairly 14picture of myself.

    I brought the list back to Daddy. He15to take it. "That's just for you," he said. "You know16than anyone else the truth about yourself. But you have to learn to17, not just close your ears in 18, feeling hurt when something said about you is true, you'll find it of help to you. Our world is full of people who think they know your affairs. Don't 19your ears. Listen to them all, but hear the truth and do what you know is the right thing to do."

    Daddy's advice has always 20 me at many important moments. In my life, I've never had a better piece of advice.

    It was my first night in my college dorm room. A couple of months ago, I was prepared for finals, 1, and the day I would keep my promise 2 out as soon as I had the chance. I 3used threat when I was angry or couldn't get my way. 4my parents just grinned.

    Now I 5 watching TV programs with my parents. I missed the time my parents spent with me. I missed the home videos I 6with my brother and sister. Now, those moments are only memories.

    Sitting at my desk with my laptop open, I7an e-mail to a radio station my mom listens to every morning before work. I 8a special song called Don't Forget to Remember.

    The next morning, my mom got out of bed and 9the radio as usual. She was amazed by the speakers10. You know how 11I was weeks ago because I sent my little girl to school for the first time? A college student 12 us and said that she misses her parents and13they have done for her. She also chose a special song in14of them. So we want to thank Cindy for that e-mail, 15it really eased my worry about my little girl growing up and 16about things parents do for them.

    The song began to play while my mom ran over to my dad and 17him up. "Honey! Did you hear that? Was that our Cindy? Our daughter who couldn't wait to 18home?" My dad, just barely opening his eyes, replied with, "If it is, that is very 19of her.”

    I got a call from my mom that night. I was so excited to tell her that I20my first day of college and we talked for about an hour. Just when we were about to say our goodbyes, I added one last plea: "Mom, don't forget to remember me.”