My friend Monty Roberts told me a story about a young boy. One day at school, the boy was asked to write a paper 1 what he wanted to be and do when he grew up.

    That night he wrote a seven – paper 2 his dream of owning a farm. He put a great deal of his 3 into the paper and the next day he handed it in to his 4. Two days later he received his paper back. On the5 page was a large red F with a 6 that read, “See me after class.” The boy went to see the teacher after class and asked, “7 did I receive an F?” The teacher said, “This is an unrealistic dream for a young boy like 8. Owning a farm requires a lot of money. There's no 9 a young man could ever do it.” Then the teacher added, “10 you rewrite this paper, I will reconsider your 11.”

    The boy went home and 12about it long and hard. Finally, after a week, he turned in the 13 paper, making no changes.

    Monty then said, “I tell you this story because you are sitting in my farm. I 14 have that school paper over fireplace.” He added, “The 15 part of the story is that two summers ago the same schoolteacher 16 30 kids to camp out on my farm. When the teacher was 17, he said, 'Look Monty, I can tell you this now. When I was your teacher, I was something of a dream18. During those years I stole a lot of kids' dreams. 19 you had enough courage not to 20 yours.” Don't let anyone steal your dreams. Follow your heart, no matter what…

    I'd never been crazy about Christmas. My husband John and the kids had always done their best to infuse(使充满) me with the holiday 1 , but this Christmas their efforts would be especially 2 .

    My salary had reduced and John's government salary was 3, too. There wasn't much money to go around, and 4 were just impossible. John was 5 a brave face as usual. But for me our financial hardship brought back 6  memories of my childhood.

    “I got a Make and Bake set for Christmas!” one girl shouted. “I got clothes!” another girl said. “What did you get, Lori?” someone asked. “So many presents.” I lied. My parents gave me plenty of love, but love was the 7   thing I had. Mom and Dad always had trouble making ends meet. I'd long since 8  Christmas just wasn't for me.

    John was 9 the tree for just the right branch to 10 the red glass bulb with the “Merry Christmas” writing. It was a precious 11 of his childhood, and he took great pleasure in hanging it on our tree every year. A few days earlier, the tree 12 and several ornaments( 装 饰 物 ) broke, but this one was unique because of the memories it held for him. It was fine if I didn't have any Christmas spirit, but it was a different 13 for John. He took a step back to admire the replacement I'd finally found after endless searching on foot and surfing the Internet.

    I worked hard to make things right for John because I loved to see my Christmas-loving husband full of holiday joy. I 14 one of the tree lights so it shone directly on John's beloved ornament. The words on it sparkled(闪烁). After all this time, I finally understood its 15 . Christmas was the season to show my love for my family. How could anyone not like Christmas?

Running for a Dream

    I will never forget that November day. It was hotter than normal. This was the 1my father and I had waited so long for, because we had been working towards this race for three years. Dozens of familiar faces from church and school flashed across my view. They had come2me. I saw worry and3on my father's face. Then the race began!

    For the first two and a half miles. I felt4.I had never before been so ready for something. The weeks leading up to the race were filled with controlled5and a strict diet. My friends hadn't seen me in weeks, but they understood the6required to make my dream a reality. As in all of my races, I didn't7out in the front, I loved the pleasure of passing people as my strength overtook their premature speed.

    Then without warning, my strength began to decrease. Neck and neck with one of my greatest competitors, I8see the finish line. I had begun the final dash into9when my knees became weak and my legs gave way. Nothing I could do would make them10weight.

    I watched as runners rushed by me.11I knew my dreams of victory were destroyed. I had to finish the race. However, my legs hurt badly. With all of the 12left in me, I got on my hands and knees and crawled （爬）,inch by inch, across the finish line. Voices, both13and familiar, cheered me on. They gave me the courage to keep14until the very end.

    The doctors were there in seconds, but my eyes searched the crowd for him. There was only one person I wanted to15to. I whispered, "I'm so sorry, Dad, I'm so sorry I 16you." He looked at me, saying," You could never disappoint me. Sometimes these things just17.All that matters is that you did your best."

    "But we worked so18.What about our dream？"He reached over for my hand and said, "Don't you know that you are my dream and it has come true？"

It wasn't long before my running shoes were back on, marking a19path for my journey, I learned that all of the miles, the tears, the sweat, and the pain my dad and I experienced together were not for a20.What I realized, though, was that to him ,I was the greatest prize he had ever won.

    To millions of readers, Jeff Zaslow was a bestselling author. But to me, Jeff was a(a) 1 mentor（导师）who gave countless hours of his time and energy to 2 authors.

    When I was in middle school, Jeff and his family 3 near our house. At a neighborhood party, I was a 4 kid playing basketball alone. Jeff walked over, introduced himself to me. He took a true interest in getting to 5 me, asking about my hobbies. Although we had just met, I had the 6 that this new neighbor truly cared about me.

    Looking back, Jeff was the first adult who 7 me like a peer（同龄人）, and it helped me find my confidence. At the time, I had no 8 that Jeff would become a mentor to me or that I would enter the writing 9.

    Twenty years later, I decided to 10 my first book. In search of 11 on developing a plan, I 12 to Jeff. Less than three hours later, his 13 landed in my mailbox. He invited me to call him any time, day or night. He asked me 14 questions and listened to my responses.

    When I started writing, I 15 Jeff's work as a model and his personal example as a reminder of what it meant to put other people first.

    In 2012, before I finished writing my book, Jeff lost his 16 in a car accident. I missed the 17 to tell him what an influence he had on me—not only as a writer, but as a role model for how to live a good life.

    Jeff Zaslow never got the chance to give his last 18. I don't know what he would have 19, but I know how he would have made you 20 during the talk. He would have amused you with humor and encouraged you to seek for the most meaningful moments in life.

    I did very badly at school. My headmaster thought I was1and when I was 14 he said, "You're never going to be2but a failure."

    After five years of3jobs, I fell in love with a very nice middle-class girl. It was the best4that could have happened to me. I 5I wanted to do something positive (积极地) with my life because I wanted to prove to 6that what people said about me was7. Especially her mother, who had said to me, "Let's8it, you've failed at everything you've ever done." So I tried hard with my9and went to college. My first novel10while I was at college.

    After college I taught during the 11in high schools and attended evening classes at London University, where I got a 12in history. I became a lecturer at a college and was thinking of13that job to write full time14I was offered a part-time job at Leeds University. I began to feel 15of myself — here was a working-class boy who'd16school early, now teaching at the university.

    My writing career (职业) took off when I discovered my own style. Now I'm rich and17, have been on TV, and met lots of film stars. 18what does it mean? I19wish all the people that have put me down had20: "I believe in you. You'll succeed."

As a young man, Aaron was a skilled artist, a potter. He had a wife and two fine sons. One night, his older son developed a stomachache. Thinking it was some

1 disorder, neither Aaron nor his wife took the condition very seriously. But the illness was actually severe and the boy 2 suddenly that night.

The son's death could have been prevented if he had only3 the seriousness of the situation! Aaron's emotional health got 4 under the heavy burden of his guilt (内疚). What's worse, his wife left him a short time later, leaving him alone with his six-year-old younger son. The hurt and pain of the two situations were more than Aaron could handle, and he 5 alcohol (酒精) to help him cope. In time Aaron became an alcoholic (酗酒者).

As the alcoholism (酗酒) 6, Aaron began to lose everything he possessed — his home, his land, his art objects, everything. 7, Aaron died alone in a San Francisco motel room.

When I heard of Aaron's death, I reacted like most people who show no respect for one ending his life with nothing material to show for it. "What a complete failure!" I thought. "What a8 life!"

As time went by, I began to reevaluate my earlier cold9. You see, I knew Aaron's now adult son, Ernie. He has a family and he is one of the kindest, most caring, most loving men I have ever known. I watched Ernie with his 10. I saw the free flow of 11 between them. I knew that kindness and consideration had to come from somewhere.

I hadn't heard Ernie talk much about his father. It is so hard to12 an alcoholic. One day I worked up my courage to 13 him. "I'm really 14 by something," I said." I know your father was basically the only one to 15 you. What on earth did he do to make you become such a special person?"

Ernie sat quietly and thought for a few moments. Then he said," From my earliest memories as a child until I left home at 18, Aaron came into my room every night, gave me a16 and said, 'I love you, son.'"

Tears came to my eyes as I realized what a fool I had been to judge Aaron as a(n)17. He had not 18 any material possessions to his son. But he had been a kind loving 19. He 20 one of the finest, most giving men I have ever known.