The other day I was talking to a stranger on the bus; he told me that he had a good 1 in Chicago and he wondered if, by any chance, I 2 to know him . For a moment, I thought he might be 3 , but I could tell from the expression on his face that he was not. He was 4. I felt like saying that it was ridiculous (可笑的) to think that out of all the millions of people in Chicago I could possibly have ever bumped into his friend. But, 5, I just smiled and reminded him that Chicago was a very 6 city. He nodded, and I thought he was going to be content to drop the subject and talk about something else. But I was wrong. He was silent for a few minutes, and then he 7 to tell me all about his friend.

    His friend's main 8 in life seemed to be tennis. He was an excellent tennis player, and he even had his own tennis court（网球场）. There were a lot of people with swimming 9, yet there were only two people with private tennis court; his friend in Chicago was one of them. I told him that I knew several 10 like that, including my brother, who was doctor in California. He 11 that maybe there were more private courts in the country, than he realized but he did not know of any others. Then he asked me 12 my brother lived in California. When I said Sacramento, he said that was a coincidence(巧合) 13 his Chicago friend spent the summer in Sacramento last year and he lived next door to a 14 who had a tennis court in his backyard. I said I felt that really was a coincidence because my next-door neighbour had gone to Sacramento last summer and had hired the house next to my brother's house. For a moment, we stared at each other, but we did not say anything.

    “Would your friend's name happen（碰巧） to be Roland Kirkwood?” I asked finally. He laughed and said,“Yes. Would your brother's name happen to be Dr Rey Hunter?” It was my 15 to laugh. “Yes,” I replied.

    I was going through my son Matthew's backpack when I saw an envelope in the bottom of it. Immediately, I knew it was a “thank you” card from one of his1. Totally not necessary since my Christmas gifts to them are my way of saying “Thank you”. I2I read it quickly. And then I stopped.

    I3 the card and read it again. One word caught my attention. “I love working with our Matthew.” One word “Our”. That one word4the meaning of the sentence for me. If she had written “I love working with Matthew”, I would know that she loves working with my son.5by adding that one word, “our”, it meant “I love working with this boy who6here, is accepted here and we all take responsibility for caring for.”

    I7 knew this, of course, seeing a blog I wrote previously, but it's always good to be

    8. In that blog post I mentioned ten reasons why his 9is the right place for him. Since that blog we have had his IEP (Individualized Education Program) meeting, where I was10of that feeling again. In that meeting, someone 11“Everyone loves Matthew. We all love Matthew”. And it was genuine and 12. As we went around the room and the staff

    13us on information about Matthew, it was apparent that it went way beyond sharing what he is doing14and behaviorally. Each person had a unique little15to tell about Matthew. Stories that show that they really know who Matthew is and that they16 him.

    In fact just today I had written a note in his communication book that it was 17

    Matthew to see new snow and not be able to play in it. Later in the day I got an email and a picture of Matthew18 with snow in a big container inside the school.

    As I was reflecting on this, I realized that as a family we are really lucky 19school isn't the only place where they think of him as “our Matthew”. It 20 to other parts of our lives as well — our friends, our family, our neighborhood, and our church.

    When my son Zac was six months old, I noticed something wasn't right. He would1with toys with his left arm, 2 his right side wasn't there. When I3 him to see the baby nurse, she did her best to hide her 4 but suggested I see a doctor as soon as possible.

    For the next four months, Zac and I paid 5visits to the doctors. Then, at ten months, Zach had a CT scan. The scan results showed that my boy had hemiplegic cerebral palsy(偏瘫性脑麻痹). I was 6.

    Soon, his doctor put us in touch with an organization that7children's disability and develo-pment services. So years of treatment 8.

    Gradually, Zac began to set his own 9. When he was 11 months old, he began to crawl(爬) with his right leg dragging behind. He10at 19 or 20 months, and even though one foot was turned, it never 11him doing anything.

    He played football when he was eight, 12starting athletics at 11, where he found his 13. As a para-athlete(残疾运动员), he has even represented his state six times at a 14 level. Then in 2011, he became the Australian long jump 15holder in the under-13 group. Today Zac's favorite sport is16and he is training with the South Australian para-cycling team for the 2020 Paralympics in Japan. If I had been too 17 to let him play sport, he would never have had the 18 to travel, compete and meet amazing people from all over the world.

    My parenting journey with Zac wasn't what I 19, but I am so 20 he chose me to be his mum. He is my most precious gift.

    It was a February morning 13 years ago. We 1 into the driveway, excited and proud, and 2 up our kids for photos. It was a big day, but back then we had no idea how it would 3 our lives.

    We tried to fight it. We knew it marked us as uncool. But we had 4 minivan people.

    I don't care. That van is linked to so many great 5 — soccer games, camping trips, and a gang of 10-year-old boys 6 in for a big day at Canada's Wonderland theme park.

    That 24-hour journey to Florida to visit grandparents and a three-week holiday to the east coast, full of long conversations and classic rock 7 on cassette tapes.

    In that van, I 8 my head off while going out with friends, and cried my heart out at the death of a 9 one.

    I've dreamed and planned and moved homes while traveling on those four 10 wheels.

    I know it's just a 11. But the first time I watched my teenagers drive off in it 12, I realized they were growing up.

    There were days when it drove me 13, too. On cold winter mornings, the sliding doors would freeze 14. Anyone who wanted to sit in the back seats had to climb in through the front. Still, we've 15 to our van for as long as possible. It never ever let us down, even as the repair bills got a little bigger each year and we faithfully 16 whatever was needed to keep it on the road safely.

Yesterday we finally made the 17. It was time to find a newer, smaller, more energy-efficient 18. The van was telling us it was time.

    Saying goodbye is never 19. As we close the minivan chapter of our lives, my heart is a little sad — the days, months and years that passed by so quickly.

    The story of our minivan is the story of our 20.

    It was our first Thanksgiving in the new house and I wanted everything to be perfect. But my plan for everyone to do some preparation work had been1by my husband's business trip. Even worse, a project for me that week had2two days of planned vacation. By Wednesday, my task of a table with fresh flowers,3drinking glasses and various homemade desserts had already4, I just hoped that I'd find a clean tablecloth and eight5forks.

    In my perfect Thanksgiving, there wouldn't be any orange in my salad because It hadn't made the grocery list. There would be no perfect family photos to record that day because I hadn't got the broken camera6. Someone had brought home the wrong toilet paper, which was the last straw that made me7.

    I don't remember what my son asked me as he was doing some cleaning,8I do remember twisting into that mean-and-tight mom-face before making an9. This combination of noise and anger is a universal signal to kids everywhere that they might as well10me. But he didn't.

    Instead of disappearing from view, my second-grader turned11the cleaning machine and walked across the room to12me. He never said a word. He just13his arms around me, making me feel14of myself until today.

It turned out a(n)15Thanksgiving. The people I loved gathered around my table and dined just one choice of the pie. My dad used a mismatched fork without16. My daughter drew a picture of us where everyone smiled.

    My son took a(n)17to teach me that sometimes we need a hug most when we are18huggable. This is the best gift you can give: One size19all and no one ever minds if you20.

    Confidence has nothing to do with your figure. I learned this recently.

    Every day I'd look in the mirror, hate what I see, and repeat the words1, "I am beautiful." Sometimes I'd even grit my teeth (咬紧牙关) to2the words out. But I3saying it, no matter what.

    It was at the4of my friend that I began this5. He said he wanted to be friends with me because of my6and gentle character. Besides, he also saw me as beautiful and it7him that I couldn't see it in myself.

    For a long time, I had8that my weight made me a second-rate person. Years of being fat and years of being9had caused me to build a cocoon (茧) around myself. I10thought that if I stayed quiet, maybe I would be safe. I put myself in layers of11, my heart breaking a little more with each wedding invitation. I12hoping for my true love, believing I wasn't good enough.

    It wasn't until I met him that I was determined to be happy on my own and things began to13. He pointed out my14personalities and excellent qualities and made me repeat them out loud. I laughed at first because it felt15, but I kept at it every day.

    Then one day, a(n)16thing happened. Staring into the mirror, I realized with a(n)17that I believed it! He wasn't18and it was true-I'm beautiful! The layers of my cocoon suddenly disappeared. And nowadays, I learn to love myself and keep19no matter what my dress size is. Indeed, confidence comes from20.