The day finally came，when I had to leave the warm home where I'd grown up.I ran to the back yard，as tears came up from my heart.Suddenly I1a hand rest on my shoulder.I looked up to2mygrandfather.“It isn't3 ， isit，Billy？”he said softly.

    Gently4myhand in his，we walked，hand in hand，tothe front yard，5a hugered rose­bush sat alone.

    “What do you see here，Billy？” he asked.I looked at the flowers，not knowing6to say，and then answered，“I see something soft and7 ， grandpa.”

    He pulled me8.“It isn't just the roses that are beautiful，Billy.It's that special place in your heart that makes them so.”“Billy，I9these roses when my first son was born.It was my10of saying 'thank you' to God.I11to watch him pick roses for his mother. Then, as a young man of only 20，a terrible war robbed him of his life.” Grandpa slowly stood up.“Never say good­bye，Billy. Never12to the sadness and the loneliness.Instead，I want you to remember the joy and the13when you first said hello to a friend.”

    A year later，my grandpa became very14.Then all members of the family were15back，and I returned to the old house. When it came to my16 ， I took his hand as17as  he had once taken mine.

    “Hello，grandpa，”I18.His eyes slowly opened and said，“Hello，my friend.” With a brief19he died. Suddenly，and truly.I knew what he had20about never saying good­bye—about refusing to give in to sadness.​

    His palms were sweating. He needed a towel to dry his grasp. The sun was as hot as the 1 he faced today at the National Junior Olympics. The bar (横竿) was set at 17 feet. That was three inches higher than his personal best. Michael Stone faced the most 2 day of his pole-vaulting(撑竿跳高) career.

    You couldn't tell whether Michael Stone was surprised, excited or vain about clearing the bar at 17 feet. As soon as he 3 on the inflated(充了气的) landing mat, Michael immediately began 4 for his next attempt at flight. He seemed 5 the fact that he had just beaten his personal best 6 three inches and that he was one of the first two competitors in the pole-vaulting 7 at the National Junior Olympics.

    When Michael 8 the bar at 17 feet 2 inches and 17 feet 4 inches, again he showed no 9. As he lay on his back and 10 the crowd sigh, he knew the other vaulter had missed his final jump. He knew it was time for his final jump. Since the other vaulter had 11 misses, Michael needed to clear this vault to win. A 12 would get him second place. It was nothing to be ashamed of,13 Michael would not 14 himself to have the thought of not winning first place.

    He rolled over and found his pole, stood and stepped on the runway that 15 the most challenging event of his 17-year-old life.

    As he sprinted (冲刺) down the runway, something felt wonderfully different, yet familiar. When he took a deep breath, it happened. He began to 16 like an eagle.

    He later went on that day to clear 17 feet 6 inches: a new National and International Junior Olympics record.

    With all the media attention and sponsorship possibilities, Michael's life would never be 17 again. It wasn't just because he won the National Junior Olympics and18 a new world record. And it wasn't because he had just increased his personal best by 9 inches. It was simply because Michael Stone is blind.

    A chance encounter can sometimes make all the 19 to whether hardship brings 20 the best in us or the worst.

    I was required to read one of Bernie Siegel's books in college and was hooked on his positivity from that moment on. The stories of his unconventional1and the exceptional patients he wrote about were so2 to me and had such a big3on how I saw life from then on.

    Who knew that so many years later I would look to Dr. Bernie and his CDs again to4my own cancer experience?

    I'm an ambitious5, and when I started going through chemo(化疗), even though I'm a very6 person, I lost my drive to write. I was just too tired and not in the7. One day, while waiting to go in for8, I had one of Dr. Bernie's books in my hand. Another patient9what I was reading and struck up a conversation with me10 he had one of his books with him as well. It11that among other things, he was an eighty-year-old writer. He was 12a published author, and he was currently13on a new book.

    We would see each other at various times and14friends. Sometimes he wore a duck hat, and I would tell myself, he was definitely a(n) 15of Dr. Bernie. He really put a 16on my face. He unfortunately17 last year due to his cancer,18he left a deep impression on me and gave me the 19 to pick up my pen again. I20to myself, "If he can do it, then so can I."

    In my living room, there is a plaque(匾) that advises me to “Bloom(开花) where you are planted.” It1me of Dorothy. I got to know Dorothy in the early 1980s，when I was teaching Early Childhood Development through a program with Union College in Barbourville, Kentucky. The job responsibilities required occasional visits to the2of each teacher in the program. Dorothy 3 in my memory as one who “bloomed” in her remote area.

    Dorothy taught in a school in Harlan County, Kentucky, Appalachian Mountain area. To get to her school from the town of Harlan, I followed a road 4around the mountain. In the eight-mile journey, I crossed the same railroad track five times, giving the possibility of getting5by the same train five times. Rather than feeling6by this drive through the mountains, I found it depressing. The7level was shocking and the small shabby houses gave me the greatest feeling of 8.

    From the moment of my arrival at the little school, all gloom(忧郁)9. Upon arriving at Dorothy's classroom, I was 10 with smiling faces and treated like a queen. The children had been prepared to show me their latest projects. Dorothy told me with a big smile that they were11poke greens salad and cornbread for “dinner” (lunch). In case you don't 12 , poke greens are a weed type plant that grows wild, especially on poor ground.

    Dorothy never13reports of exciting activities of her students. Her 14 never cooled down. When it came time to15for the testing and interviewing required to receive her Child Development Associate Certification, Dorothy was16. She came to the assessment(评价) and17in all areas. Afterward, she18me to the one-and-only steak house in the area to19her victory, as if she had received her Ph.D. degree. After the meal, she placed a little box containing an old pen in my hand. She said it was a family heirloom (传家宝), but to me it is a treasured symbol of appreciation and pride that cannot be 20 with things.

    When Thomas Moore, 11, stepped up to the plate (棒球比赛中的本垒板) at Oriole Park at Camden Yard in Baltimore, the crowd went wild. It was the biggest applause（掌声） the park had ever heard for a 1 baseball player.

    "I was very 2. I didn't know that was going to happen," says Moore.

    What happened was that the Baltimore Orioles (金莺队) and their fans were recognizing Moore 3 a hero for something he did that nobody in the city ever 4. After seeing a picture of a young cancer 5 on social media, Moore let his hair grow for two and a half years. Then he donated his hair and helped provide wigs (假发) for three kids 6 cancer through having chemotherapy.

    This7boy had no idea what was waiting to happen to him 8 he decided on his act of kindness. "I just thought I got 9 to an Orioles game," he says.

    Moore is one of just 50 heroes recognized by the team-and the one 10has so far inspired the biggest reaction. He waved and smiled when he was 11 on the big screen, and he enjoyed being 12by strangers. Just as exciting: before the game, he had the 13 to talk to Orioles star Adam Jones.

    "We talked about my hair 14," Moore says. "I felt even more proud of myself. And I was already proud."

    Jones said that Moore was a role 15 for other kids.

    Besides meeting one of his heroes, Moore got to meet someone who 16 him as a hero, Mo Gaba, an 11-year-old who is fighting cancer and 17 from one of Moore's wigs. Baltimore's radio listening community has helped 18 more than US$33,000 on the Internet to help with Gaba's medical care. His cancer 19haven't broken his spirit or affected his 20 for the game.

An Art Class

When Kelly was twelve, she started taking classes at Miss Grace's School for Art. She didn't like it at first: the "novice artists"-the kids who hadn't really done art before-worked mostly with clay, and Kelly was a terrible sculptor. 

It wasn't until her third year that Kelly found something she was really good at-charcoal drawing （素描）. She loved watching the lines spread unevenly across the page as she moved the bits of charcoal back and forth over the paper. 

One day, Sophia. the best artist in her class, sat down and set up her easel （画架） next to Kelly. Kelly felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. She'd. actually found an art form that she enjoyed-and was good at--and now Sophia was going to outshine her again? Kelly fought back tears when Miss Grace entered the room. 

"Hello class, Miss Grace said. "We'll continue to work on the project today. What masterpiece would Sophia have come up with?

Kelly looked at Sophia's easel and she couldn't believe it--it was a mess! For a brief moment, Kelly couldn't actually believe her drawing was better than Sophia's. 

But then she looked at Sophia, who was watching Kelly with an anxious expression. "I…. I couldn't decide what to do, " Sophia said. "And you're so good. Sometimes I feel like my stuff is just so bad in comparison. 

Kelly looked to see if Sophia was joking, but she seemed completely serious. Now Kelly was shocked. "I'm not talented ... Miss Grace seldom praises me. You're the best one in our class!"

Sophia raised her eyebrows. "I might be a really good copier of the stuff, but I have no idea what to do when it comes to making up my own images. You are so great at making new things out of the old stuff. I've loved your works. "

"I've loved yours, too, Kelly said. 

"Well, definitely not this one, " Sophia said. 

Kelly smiled. "Maybe not right now. But if you move these lines up. . . "she said, pointing her finger on Sophia's paper. 

Sophia was quiet for a moment. "That's a great idea!" she said finally. 

Kelly smiled and turned back to her drawing, looking every so often at Sophia's work to see that she was taking her advice, down to the last line.