We have a small back garden with several trees，so bird nest in abundance. Therefore, it is1 year after year to find many young birds don't2 .

       One morning two years ago, I found a young blackbird sitting still, very cold, in a corner. I3it up and moved it to a raised warmer spot, 4it with tissue and made silly bird noises in the hope that it would5. It was breathing, though very weak and wouldn't open its beak (喙). I knew it had 6 and was dying but it did start to feel warmer so there was7.

I kept coming to check on it, keeping our three8inside the house, as I didn't want them to9it, as Toby, my cleverest dog had already spotted it. One time, I went to see the bird, it had 10down, legs outstretched (伸直), so I placed it 11back onto the tissue. Its eyes opened12and it seemed to look in my direction,13at times its head also moved round, which was not a good sign. I kept making bird noises and14it, saying “Come on, be strong.” I just felt so 15, but I wanted it to know that there was someone who16. Unfortunately, it died. I did feel so regretful because I tried my best but I17.

      To my18, last year I spotted two young blackbirds keeping each other company in one of our trees, and I'm19one of them had at least survived as one has been visiting20since and helping itself to seed from our feeders.

    Some years ago when I was in my first year in college, I heard Salome Bey sing for the first time. The moment was exciting. Salome's1filled the room and brought the theater to life. I was so2that I decided to write an article about her.

    I3Salome Bey, telling her I was from Essence magazine, and that I wanted to meet her to talk about her career. She4and told me to come to her studio next Tuesday. When I hung up, I was scared out of mind. I5I was lying. I was not a writer at all and hadn't even written a grocery list.

    I interviewed Salome Bey the next Tuesday. I sat there6, taking notes and asking questions that all began with, “Can you tell me. . . ? ”I soon realized that7Salome Bey was one thing, but writing a story for a national magazine was just impossible. The8was almost unbearable. I struggled for days9draft(草稿)after draft. Finally I put my manuscript(手稿)into a large envelope and dropped it into a mailbox.

    It didn't take long. My manuscript10. How stupid of me! I thought. How could I11in a world of professional writers? Knowing I couldn't12the rejection letter, I threw the unopened envelope into a drawer.

    Five years later, I was moving to California. While13my apartment, I came across the unopened envelope. This time I opened it and read the editor's letter in14:

Ms Profit,

    Your story on Salome Bey is fantastic. Yet we need some15materials. Please add those and return the article immediately. We would like to16your story soon.

    Shocked, it took me a long time to17. Fear of rejection cost me greatly. I lost at least five hundred dollars and the chance of having my article appear in a major magazine. More importantly, I lost years of18writing. Today, I have become a full-time writer. Looking back on this19, I learned a very important lesson: You can't20to doubt yourself.

    Not so long ago, a terrible fire broke out in an apartment in die city of Pitesti, just west of Bucharest. In no time,1 were welcomed by 5-metre-tall flames and roaring smoke.2, using their advanced equipment, they quickly brought the beast under3.

    The apartment's owner Mr. Petri and his lovely dog, Sandy, were the  4of the big fire. Local firefighting hero, Costache Mugurel 5 his way through the cruel flames to rescue theman and his pet. Mr. Petri,6 injured in the fire, was rushed to hospital. Sandy fell over 7breathing in too much smoke and lifelessly lay on the roadside.

    Mugurel, remembering his CPR(心脏复苏术）training，passionately 8 the chest of the dog, desperately trying to 9 his life. And he began to lose hope after many 10 .He was physically and mentally 11. Finally he performed mouth-to-mouth on the dog, screaming“ 12gets left behind!”. Unexpectedly the dog 13 himself and began panting. The on-looking crowd cheered and Mugurel began to weep with 14. He hurriedly carried him to the awaiting vet(兽医).

    Like 15, the story of Mugurel and his newfound friend spread around the city. His Facebook was16words of gratitude, loving emoticons(表情符号）and notes from friends and fans alike.

    According to vet experts, recovering animals via CPR is rather17The American Heart Association calculates that only less than 6 percent of cats and dogs survive if they18heart attacks.

    There have been many stories related to19in Pitesti, but none have caught the20of the population quite like Sandy's.

    On the first day of my school life in the USA, I showed a great interest in marketing class(营销课). My teacher, Mrs. Tolman, suggested I 1 a marketing club called DECA attracting students with talent and interest in 2. So I did.

    The first 3 was to collect money for the marketing competition by selling candles. Mrs. Tolman said the competition was due in a week and that 40 percent of the 4 would go into my personal account (个人账户).

    At the beginning, I tried to sell candles to my host mom. She said that if I could 5confidence and do a wonderful sales presentation, she would buy some. I started my presentation with a 6 handshake. Then I introduced the candles and the special sales I could offer and 7 her that our candles were perfect for gifts and home decorations. Finally she bought three. Greatly 8 I decided to sell them in the neighborhood. On Saturday morning, with great courage, I knocked at the door of my first potential 9.

    "I'm a student and we are 10 money for DECA. I'm trying to sell..."

    "Not today, sorry," the man stopped me and 11the door. Embarrassed, I walked away and said to myself the 12 thing that might happen was being refused like that again. I couldn't even count how many times I was 13 with reasons like "Not today" or "I don't have any 14 money".15, I had to continue. 16, a woman kindly bought $60 worth of candles. I couldn't even hide my 17 and said "Thank you very much" to her with a bow.

    After a 18 hard work, I turned in my $408. I was 19 to find out I was the second highest seller in all classes.

    It was the first time that I had worked as a salesperson. Now I look back on this experience with satisfaction, and I feel glad that I did not 20 in face of difficulties.

    When you are five years old, your mother is your everything. She is your1, friend, nurse; the only person you rely on2with your hopes, dreams, and wishes. But for me, this was not the case.

    My mother suffered from 3problems that would keep her in bed for days, leaving me to care for her and look after myself. This situation4me to grow up much faster. While I knew my mother was sick, I felt deep down that we could5it and everything would be okay. 6, in 1997 everything went terribly wrong, and my life changed forever.

    Adoption is a7word to a five-year-old, but when I realized that my own mother had signed me over to8, I felt it was the worst betrayal. I suffered from shock, anger, and confusion as I attempted to adjust to my new family. No longer could I trust anyone since the person I had loved more than all else had9me. Hearing people tell me that she did it in my best interest, I felt it even more10. I could not forgive her and always11 how she could reject me like an old sofa.

    However, the more I got older, the more I began to understand how12 our situation had been. We had been13 on boxes of noodles, and at one point we14 lived in our car. I was once passed from drug-addicted cousins to mentally unstable neighbors as my mother15 to try and save me from what our lives were becoming16 each day passed.

      17 recently have I begun to understand why my mother gave me to strangers.    18, she really did save me. She loved me more than anything, so she wanted me to have a chance in life, 19 she could no longer offer me. I now know my life has been a special 20only because she was selfless enough to give me up. 

    Martin Henfield talks about some of his 1 as a twin: when we were small, my mother dressed us 2 the same clothes. That was bad enough and we didn't like it. But we went on our first camping trip, it was even 3. We were only ten years old, and while 4 went into their sleeping bags for the 5, we were not happy to snuggle inside a double sleeping bag my mother made for us.

    At school our classmates 6 us Henfield One and Henfield Two, so people 7 even see our difference according to our initials because 8 of us were M.H. It was only when I went to college and began to have my own friends that I started to feel my own freedom of identity(身份).

    Before I went to college, during my secondary school 9, I 10 a job on a building site. My twin brother, Mike Henfield, didn't work. One day I asked my boss, "Can I have a week 11?" "Certainly," he said, "but you won't have the job when you 12 back." I didn't want to 13 the job. So on Monday morning, Mike went there in my 14 , jacket and hat and he worked for me for one week. 15 of them knew the difference.