Last week I stopped at a red light. To my left stood a young woman. She had a look of 1 on her face, ragged clothes, and a sign that 2, "Just need a little help. Thank you." I was 3 drawn to her. I had no cash in my 4. Instead, I gathered all the change I had in my car. I rolled my 5 down. "Hi. What's your name?" I asked. "Joyce," she 6with caution in her voice. "Hi, Joyce, I'm Kelley." I 7 my arm to give her a handshake. She unwillingly 8 my hand. "It's nice to meet you. I wish I had 9 to help you with but this is all I have right now." She pleasantly 10 her hands and 11 the coins. She started telling me how their house was burned down last year and they 12 everything. With no insurance and both losing their jobs, they were starting over.

    All week I drove by that place hoping to see Joyce and give her more. One week later, I was the first in 13 at the red light and as I 14 the light I smiled. There was Joyce. I asked her what her 15 were. She said that one of her relatives lived in Texas and 16 a few rental houses, and she had agreed to let them stay in one until they got 17. "I have a little something to help you 18 there," and I gave her a 20-dollar bill. "We all need a little help every now and then, don't we?" We both smiled and nodded in 19.

    Who knows if I'll ever see her again? But I know at that moment she smiled and she knew that things really were going to get better for her. And seeing her smile and the hope in her eyes is what I needed to 20 my trouble in life.

Dear Mr. Jones,

    I expect you may be slightly surprised to receive a letter from someone living as near as your next-door neighbor; but I have to raise a1that it will be easier for me to discuss in writing.

    You may have 2 that I have a line of apple trees running alongside the fence that 3our two gardens. You may also have taken pleasure in the frequent sight of your two children sitting on your lawn directly by the fence. And you may 4have noticed that my apple trees, so to speak, 5 the fence and seem to look down at your children with interest.

    It is only natural that your children should sometimes seem to 6that interest. And it is not only natural, but, I acknowledge, quite legal, for them 7 to show that interest by picking all the apples that8 on your side of the fence.

    But to be plain with you, Mr. Jones, I am tired of seeing your children, day after day, tear the 9 off the side of every one of my apple trees, and leave my trees looking as though a10had been fought on one side of them. I am, if anything, even more tired of11 these fine autumn mornings, to find even the apples on 12 side of the fence much less in 13. I know this is the work of your children, 14 last night I was woken at midnight by the noise they were making climbing one of my trees, and (as they may have told you) chased them home.

While I am on the subject, I am at least 15 to you for keeping your bonfires on the far side of your garden this year. Last year neither I nor your children had any apples, because the smoke from your bonfires 16 all the flowers before the apples had time to form. I very much hope that17 —-for the first time since I came to this village—-I shall have my apples, and your children will have theirs and that the sight of the line of apple trees will be a 18 to us both.

    19, I shall not express my displeasure in writing to you, but shall have to refer the matter to those capable of taking stronger 20 .

Yours sincerely,

J. Smith

    As I sat motionless on the steps of the pool, watching everyone else swim back and forth, I realized that I had spent most of my life watching others enjoy themselves. It was then that I 1a little girl staring at me with a look of confusion. I smiled at her, hoping to 2 the ice by talking to her. Unfortunately, my 3 failed and she just kept on staring. My 4 increased as a little boy swam up to me and said, "I feel sorry for you."

    After the 5 by chance, a thought struck me. I had to change 6 the world viewed me. Because it was children who stared at me the most, I decided to write a children's book that taught them about 7 in a fun way. This is when KatGirl, a super hero in a 8 who helps children that are being bullied, came into my mind.

    I quickly 9 inside my apartment and began creating the story. As I wrote each word, I could 10 my future as a world-famous author and public speaker. My excitement 11 like wildfire. Over the next two years, the story 12 many changes before it saw the world in the spring of 2011. My insistence 13 paid off.

    One day I was invited to speak to the students at a neighboring school. I confidently wheeled into a classroom filled with students who 14 at me just like the little girl in the pool. "How do you feel when you see me?" I asked them. The kids bravely 15, "I feel sorry for you."

    I opened my book and started reading. Immediately I noticed the children's stares turned to 16. "How do you feel when you see me?" I asked again. Without 17 they replied, "You are so cool! Does your 18 fly too?" I just smiled, "No, not yet, but maybe some day." I knew in my heart that this was 19. The past two years had proven to me that with 20 anything is possible.

    There was once a boy called Joseph Webb who always loved to show off how many friends he had at school. One day his 1 said to him, “Joseph, I 2 you a big bag of popcorn that you don't have as many friends as you think. I'm sure many of them are nothing more than companions.”

    Joseph 3 the bet at once. However, he wasn't sure how to 4 whether his schoolmates were real friends or not, so he asked his grandfather. The old man answered, “Wait a minute.” Then he left and 5 soon as though carrying something in his hands, but Joseph could see 6 there.

    “Take it. It's a very 7 chair because it's invisible (看不见). It's rather 8 to sit on, but if you take it to school and 9 to sit on it, you'll activate (激活) its 10 and it'll be able to tell who your real friends are.”

    Joseph, brave and determined, set off for 11 with the strange and invisible chair. At break time he asked everyone to form a(n) 12, and he put himself in the middle, with his chair. Having difficulty seeing it, Joseph tried to sit on it but he 13 the seat and fell straight onto his backside. Everyone around him had a pretty good 14.

    Wait! Let me try again, Joseph said. But again, he missed the seat, 15 more surprised looks and a few catcalls (尖叫,喝倒彩). Joseph didn't 16 and kept trying to sit on the magic chair. But he kept falling to the ground…until, suddenly he tried again but didn't 17. Looking around, Joseph saw three of his best friends holding him up. 18, many others he had thought of as friends had done nothing but make fun of him. And there, the show came to an end. Joseph understood that 19 friends were those who care for him, and not just the 20 that happened to be passing by. And someone who took joy in his misfortunes (不幸) was even less of a friend.

    When I settled in Chicago, my new city seemed so big and unfriendly. Then I had a 1 problem and had to go to hospital for a 2 examination.

    It seemed a small 3 compared to the one I was about to face, but things started to go 4 right from the beginning. Not having a car or 5 the city, I was depending on the buses to get me from A to B. 6 I'd left myself plenty of time, soon it was 7 I was going to be late, because I had mistakenly boarded a bus that was taking me in the 8 direction.

    I 9 the bus and stood on the road not knowing what to do. I looked into the eyes of a 10, who was trying to get past me. 11, instead of moving on, she stopped to ask if I was 12. After I explained my 13 to her, she pointed to a bus stop across the street, where a bus would take me back into the city to my 14. Sitting there waiting, I felt 15 that someone had been willing to help. 16 , hearing a horn（喇叭）nearby, I looked up to see a car with my new friend 17 at me to get in. She had returned to offer me a 18 to the hospital.

    Such unexpected 19 from a passer-by was a lovely gift to receive. As I climbed out of the car at the hospital and turned to thank her, she smiled and told me not to lose 20, for all things are possible.

    The stage lights dimmed, and I took a quick look from behind the heavy black curtains into the audience. Blinded by the lights, I quickly 1. It seems that a great number of eyes were looking at me. I took a deep 2 as the music of my dance began to play. I entered the stage and began my 3, the graduation test of the classical Indian dance.

    After a decade of learning this art form, I had 4 been considered ready to take on the most difficult act. The test is the most important event in a dancer's life as it pays 5 to all the factors in one's life that 6 the dance form: one's culture and family.

    The performance is undertaken only by the most 7 and determined students. It is a difficult process that requires much 8. For more than six months, I spent two to three hours every day9 these dances. Many times, I 10 myself to my physical and mental breaking point, but still I would not stop. I could not give up. There was always so much more to do and so much more to 11.

    I 12 a lot about myself in those tiring hours. I learned that I was far too 13 to give up, and I was too proud to prove myself 14 after I had set an unrealistic goal. Even with physical pain and mental 15, I forced myself to meet my 16. Even when I was at the end of my 17, there was always something driving me on, forcing me not to give up.

    Fortunately, I made it. What I had done 18 the success. It was in those hours that I learned what a dancer 19 is. Those time was evidence that I could 20 something I set out to do.