On August 26,1999,New York City experienced a torrential downpour.The rain caused the streets to1and the subway system almost came to a stop.

    Unfortunately, this happened during the morning rush hour.Many people who were going to work were2to go home.Some battled to3a taxi or to get on a bus.Still others faced the4bravely,walking miles to get to work.

    I 5 to be one of the people on the way to work that morning.I went from subway line to subway line only to find that most6had stopped.After making my way7crowds of people,I finally found a subway line that was 8.Unfortunately,there were so many people waiting to9the subway that I could not even get down the stairs to the10.So I took the train going in the opposite direction,and then switch back to the downtown train.Finally,after what seemed like an forever,the train11my stop.Then I had to walk several blocks in the increasingly heavy rain. When I finally got to my office,I was12through,exhausted and13.

    My co-workers and I spent most of the day drying off.When it was 5:00 pm,I was ready to go home.I was about to turn off my computer14I received an email from Garth,my Director:

    I would like to thank all of you who made the effort and15reported to work.It is always reassuring（今人欣慰）,at times like these,when employees so clearly show their16to their jobs.Thank you.

    Garth's email was short, but I learned more from that17message than I ever did from a textbook.The email taught me that a few words of18can make a big difference.The rainstorm and the traffic19had made me tired and upset.But Garth's words immediately20me and put a smile back on my face.

    While I was waiting in line at a coffee shop earlier, a woman drove alongside the queue in a mobility scooter(踏板车). There was only a1space between the line of people and the tables, which she2to drive along. She drove over my foot and did not 3saying nothing at all.

    I got annoyed and expected she would have4, but then I just decided to5it and got down to selecting which pastry(点心)to go with my coffee. The lady and I ended up sitting at adjacent(领近的)tables. She was on the end of a row so that she could park her 6. After about half an hour, when she had7her coffee, she got up and back onto her scooter. It8start. She tried to turn the key several times9she telephoned the place she purchased it from.

    An engineer 10within five minutes. The place must have been local. I couldn't 11overhearing their conversation, and it turned out she had just 12the scooter that morning. This was her very first outing in it. She felt really13about driving it.14, she wasn't used to its speed, nor its 15, and this combination made it quite16to drive it through narrow gaps.

Suddenly, I felt 17for the lady. It really didn't 18me at all that she'd driven over my foot. I had made an assumption,19, that a person doing that should apologize.

    Next time you're about to 20someone, pause for a second and remind yourself that people have judged you without knowing what was going on in your mind or your life.

    Charlotte Whitehead was born in England in 1843, and moved to Montreal, Canada at the age five with her family. While1her ill elder sister throughout the years, Charlotte discovered she had a(an)2in medicine. At 18 she married and3a family. Several years later, Charlotte said she wanted to be a4Her husband supported her decision.5, Canadian medical schools did not6women students at the time. Therefore, Charlotte went to the United States to study7at the Women's Medical College in Philadelphia. It took her five years to8her medical degree. Upon graduation, Charlotte9to Montreal and set up a private10 Three years later, she moved to Winnipeg, Manitoba, and there she was once again a11doctor. Many of her patients were from the nearby timber and railway camps. Charlotte12herself operating on damaged limbs and setting13bones, in addition to delivering all the babies in the area.

    But Charlotte had been practicing without a license. She had14a doctor's license in both Montreal and Winnipeg, but was15. The Manitoba College of Physicians and Surgeons, an all-male board, wanted her to16her studies at a Canadian medical college! Charlotte refused to17her patients to spend time studying what she already knew. So in 1887, she appeared to the Manitoba Legislature to18a license to her but they, too, refused. Charlotte19to practice without a license until 1912. She died four years later at the age of 73.

    In 1993, 77 years after her20, a medical license was issued to Charlotte. This decision was made by the Manitoba Legislature to honor “this courageous and pioneering woman.”

    I had introduced myself to others by saying, “Hi, I am J's mother” or “A's mom” rather than my own name. Another mother 1 asked me, “And do you have a(n)2?”

    My friend 3 me a few days before. I kept on talking for five minutes about my 4 When I 5 she asked, “So, is there anything going on with 6?”

    At first, I didn't understand 7she was asking me that. Hadn't I just told her what was going on with me? But then I realized that 8 I said had actually been about myself. It was all about my kids. I love being a mom. The kids were my world.9 it was my kids' world, and I just lived in it and 10it didn't fall apart.

    The phone call with my friend made me 11 that I needed to start thinking about who else I am 12 being a mother. I realized that to be a good 13 I also had to be my own person-not just someone who only 14 to take care of other people.

    I joined a club and started doing some volunteer work. I took a writing class online. I am now a regular 15to several magazines and write a monthly blog. I don't make a lot of money by writing, but I feel more 16 as a person. I am 17 and growing, and that makes me more 18 and a better mother.

Now when I 19 myself, I say, “Hi, my name is Randi,” and it feels 20 to be me.

    From the first week of high school, my best friend, Trisha, was always going out with the popular girls. 1 I thought, “It's okay; she's just making new friends.” But soon I realized that Trisha wasn't interested in me anymore. I'd 2 my best friend. It really hurt.

    One day, I told Trisha that we should 3 pretending（假装）to be friends when we really weren't anymore. I wasn't trying to make her mad, 4 she was. After that, Trisha started talking about me behind my back, telling people that I was 5. Some of our friends 6 with her. I felt like she was taking them away from me.

    The more I thought about it, the 7 I got. Finally, I 8 a picture of Trisha and drew lines on her face. I wrote, “I 9 this person” across the bottom. And then I did something I'll always 10: I put it on a website I thought was 11. I thought people would see it, and it felt good to vent（发泄）.

    A week later, Trisha's mom saw the 12. She called my mom, who made me take it off the website right away. However, it was already too 13. Lots of people had seen it, and I was in a lot of 14.

    That whole day, I felt 15. I had to say sorry to Trisha face to face. She said she accepted my apology, but I felt she was16 angry with me.

    Posting that picture was one of the worst 17 I've ever made. I realize now I could have found a much better way to deal with my 18. If I'd just told Trisha how much I 19 her, maybe things would have turned out20. It's too late for me to change things, but I hope you'll learn from my mistake.

I've been writing now for 34 years. It all started when I was just 18 years. As a boy growing up, I probably read hundreds of books. I read mysteries, science fiction, thrillers, and just about any other type of book I could find. I had a thirst for knowledge that never seemed to disappear, no matter how many books I read over the years.

Then suddenly, I found that I too had ideas of my own that I wanted to write and share. I wanted to share things that were full of goodness, love, joy, and happiness. I tried to ignore my desire at first, but as any writer will tell you, once ideas awaken inside of you, they don't leave you alone until you write them down. I didn't have a computer, or even a typewriter, but I grabbed a pen and a notebook and wrote down everything that was burning inside of me.

When I was finally done, I didn't know how to share my work with the world. There was no Internet back then, no smartphones, and no social media. However, I sought out the editor of my local newspaper and asked if he would like to print what I'd written. He was a good man, full of both wisdom and kindness. He not only printed my first story but agreed to publish anything else I was willing to write.

After that, of course, nothing could stop me. I continued to write new articles each week, which were published in different local papers and later on the Internet. Years later I even self-published two collections of my stories in book form.

Through my writing, I slowly became a better person. Writing allowed me to discover the goodness and light that exist in us all. I also found that we are all writers whether we put pen to paper or not.

With every choice we make, with every thought we think, and with every action we take, we are writing our own life story.