Lesson 36 NCE Book 3

    We are {#blank#}1{#/blank#} than we used to be. In the nineteenth century, a novelist would bring his story to a conclusion by presenting his readers with {#blank#}2{#/blank#} —most of them wildly improbable. Readers happily {#blank#}3{#/blank#} that an obscure maidservant was really the hero's mother . A long-lost brother, who {#blank#}4{#/blank#} , was really alive all the time and wickedly plotting to bring about the hero's downfall. And so on. Modern readers would find {#blank#}5{#/blank#} totally unacceptable. …

—Yes. I {#blank#}1{#/blank#}(visit) it twice when I was in Harbin.

    I used to live in San Paulo, Brazil.

    It is a huge city with more people{#blank#}1{#/blank#} (live) in it than in my own country. I rented a flat in a wealthy community, but there was a favela（贫民窟）quite near. For several months I didn't have a car, so I used public transportation to go to the city centre.

    Once,{#blank#}2{#/blank#}my way back, I had to wait for a long time at a bus stop. I was alone, except for a woman {#blank#}3{#/blank#} was apparently very poor. She carried a small paper bag of popcorn.

    While{#blank#}4{#/blank#}were waiting, she walked over and offered me some popcorn. I thanked her,{#blank#}5{#/blank#}I didn't want to help myself to it. She repeatedly {#blank#}6{#/blank#}(insist) that I take some from the paper bag.

    I was so moved by that woman's{#blank#}7{#/blank#}(kind) that day. I clearly had more than she did, but she naturally and joyfully shared {#blank#}8{#/blank#}she had with me.

    I think about how poor people are sometimes able to share the little they have more easily

    {#blank#}9{#/blank#}those who own a lot. I wonder if it's true that the more you have,{#blank#}10{#/blank#} more difficult it is for you to share anything with others.

    Texting while walking is something that most of us are guilty of．We can't help {#blank#}1{#/blank#}(reply)to that message we just received．However，while it's fun to keep up to what's going on，we may actually put{#blank#}2{#/blank#}(we)in danger．

    A team of researchers from UK recently found people{#blank#}3{#/blank#}use their phones while on the move walk differently．During the research，a group of 21 volunteers{#blank#}4{#/blank#}(ask)to walk around a street with obstacles(障碍物)such as a step.{#blank#}5{#/blank#}volunteers traveled the course a total of 12 times each，either writing or reading a message，making a call，or with no phone at all．It took the volunteers 118 percent {#blank#}6{#/blank#}(long)to complete the course while using a phone．They also paid attention to the travel path 51 percent more when they weren't using a phone．“Although there{#blank#}7{#/blank#}(be)no accidents，we should still be aware{#blank#}8{#/blank#}what's going on around us，”according to Matthew Timmis，co—author of the study．The big risk is suddenly—appearing situations，like someone suddenly walking in front of you．You are not going to be able to respond to that{#blank#}9{#/blank#}(swift)enough，so you may injure yourself or get injured．In a word，these hidden{#blank#}10{#/blank#} (danger)of texting while walking should be recognized to avoid injuries．

To any soldier

    I served as a second lieutenant (少尉) in a war thirty years ago. Married for only a year and a half, I missed my wife and baby daughter a lot. In the years before cell phones and Wi-Fi, we had limited opportunities {#blank#}1{#/blank#} (communicate) with loved ones.

    One night while sitting by myself, I investigated the "Any Soldier" mailbox, a cardboard box with letters and packages from Americans. I chose one shoebox-size package. Inside I found about 20 greeting cards {#blank#}2{#/blank#} children. At the bottom was a letter written by their teacher  {#blank#}3{#/blank#} (explain) how her kids had put the box together and how they supported our efforts in the war. Truly touched at that very moment by this gesture, I decided to write a letter of gratitude. I thanked the teacher for  {#blank#}4{#/blank#} her children had done—its impact on my patriotism, my morale, and, {#blank#}5{#/blank#} (significantly), my uplifted faith. For security reasons, I was able to sign only my name.

    Around 2013, I received a Facebook friend request from a woman with  {#blank#}6{#/blank#} I shared no contacts. I replied that  {#blank#}7{#/blank#} we were friends, I could not accept her request. She responded with one question: "Are you Second Lieutenant Bartholomew?" I replied that I had been at one time.

    "Dear sir," she wrote. "We have never met, but thirty years ago I was a second-grade teacher at a school in Ohio and our classroom sent a care package  {#blank#}8{#/blank#} (address) to Any Service Member.' The thank-you letter you composed was framed and it  {#blank#}9{#/blank#} (post) on the wall of the school for more than 20 years. I wanted to again thank you for your service to our country."

    We never spoke again, but this gracious teacher strengthened my belief in doing what my mother always taught me: Write thank-you notes— {#blank#}10{#/blank#} never know how many people your kindness can touch.