Every night, even long after my childhood years, she would come to me, push my long hair out of the way and then kiss my forehead to say goodnight.

I don't 1 when it started to dislike her hands pushing my hair that way. Finally, one night, I shouted at her. “Don't do that 2 — your hands are too rought(粗糙的)!” She didn't say anything 3. But never again did my mother 4 me with that familiar expression of her love. But because of my pride, I didn't tell her I was 5.

    As years passed, I missed my mother's hands and goodnight kisses upon my 6 again and again. Sometimes the incidnet seemed very close, sometimes far away. But always7 appeared in my mind.

    Now my mom is in her mid-seventies, still doing thins for me and my family with those two hands. Mom no longer has Dad, and on special8, I find myself drawn next door to 9 the night with her. It was late on Thanksgiving Eve. As I slept in the bedroom of my youth, a 10 hand hesitantly brushed the hari from my forehead. Then a kiss, ever so 11, touched my brow.

In my12, for the thousandth time, I thought of the night I said the rude words to my mom.13 Mom's hand in my hand, I told her how sorry I was for that night. But she had forgotten—and forgiven—long ago.

    That night, I fell asleep with a new appreciation for my gentle mother and her14 hands. And the guilt(愧疚感)I had had for so long was 15to be found.

    It was the start of another summer session at the university. I was enrolled to(报名) a psychology class. It was extremely difficult to get into, 1the class was very popular. Lots of students were put on a2list but I was lucky and succeeded on my first 3.

    I had enrolled in this class not only because of the subject matter but also because of the professor. I had heard 4things about her. She had published many books which had been translated into many languages. It would be a(n) 5 to learn from her. And I had a(n) 6.

    Today was the first day of class. The professor entered the 7 lecture hall and made her way to the front. She faces us, quieted us and 8 around. Could she see me? She was my mother.

    It was 9 seeing my mother giving a lecture. 10, we had just had breakfast together that morning and talked about the usual mother/daughter things. Could I get past the 11 that the professor was my mother and 12 learn something?

    My mother first gave an overview of what we could 13 in the following eight weeks. Then she started the lecture. I listened and took notes and somewhere 14 the way my mother turned into a professor. She was so good a professor that I got completely15 in the subject matter and forgot that my mother was the person lecturing.

    That summer school session passed quickly. Did the other students in the class ever learn my secret? Well, yes they did. Did I 16 it? No. But 17 else did. On the last day of the session, the professor asked me to stand. She 18me, telling that the class that she was very proud of me.

    My mother, who had so many important 19 in her life, was telling her students that the thing she was proudest of was me! Over the years I heard her lecture many times but I have20been prouder as her daughter than I was that day when she introduced me to the class.

    There are many kinds of friends. Some are always 1 you, but don't understand you. Some say only a few words to you, but understand you. Many people will step in your life, but only 2 friends leave footprints.

    I shall always recall the autumn and the girl with the 3. She will always bring back the friendship between us, I know she will always be my best friend.

    It was the golden season. I could see the yellow leaves 4on the cool 5. In such a season, I liked walking alone in the leaves, 6to the sound of them.

    Autumn is a 7season and life is uninteresting. The free days always get me8. But one day, the sound of a violin 9 into my ears like a stream （小溪） flowing in the mountains. I was so surprised that I jumped to see what it was. A young girl, standing in the wind, was 10 in playing her violin.

    I had 11seen her before. The music was so nice that I listened quietly. Lost in the music, I didn't know that I had been 12there for so long but my existence did not seem to disturb her.

    Leaves were still falling. Every day she played the violin in the corner of the building 13 I went downstairs to watch her performance. I was the only listener. The autumn seemed no longer lonely and life became 14. 15we didn't know each other, I thought we were already good friends. I believe she also loved me.

    Autumn was nearly over. One day, when I was listening carefully, the sound suddenly16. To my astonishment, the girl came over to me.

    “You must like violin. ” she said.

    “Yes. And you play very well. Why did you stop?” I asked.

    Suddenly, a 17expression appeared on her face and I could feel something unusual.

    “I came here to see my grandmother, but now I must leave. I once played very badly. It was your listening every day that 18me. ” she said.

    “In fact, it was your playing 19gave me a meaningful autumn,” I answered, “Let's be friends.”

    The girl smiled, and so did I.

    I never heard her play again in my life. I no longer went downstairs to listen like before. Only thick leaves were left behind. But I will always remember the fine figure of the girl. She is like a 20 — so short, so bright, like a shooting star giving off so much light that it makes the autumn beautiful.

    I grew up in a nice house in a middle-class area in Boston, England, and had a very happy childhood. My mother 1 herself to bringing me and my siblings up.

    As a child I was overactive and 2 in school. I wouldn't listen to anyone and thought I 3 everything. At home, I was always breaking things and 4 everyone. Dad was worried, so when I was eight, he took me to boxing classes in an 5 to divert (转移) my energy and keep me out of trouble. It made a huge 6 to the way I saw life and taught me discipline. It also taught me respect, because Dad made it clear that if I didn't 7 properly, I wouldn't be able to go back to the gym. 8 it hadn't been for him, there is no doubt I'd have just 9 my life.

    Dad was surprised when people at the gym started saying that I had the 10 to be a champion. His 11 had been to keep me off the streets, not to make me a world-class boxer. But he was so proud, 12 when I won a silver medal in the 2004 Olympics. I was only 17 and I know Mum and Dad were 13 for me because I was just a boy, yet I was fighting men.

    I don't have to 14 the business side of my career, because Dad oversees all that. He deals with the lawyers, making sure my fight contracts (合同) are all up to date and 15 properly.

    Dad's always at the ringside during my 16—his main priority is that I'm safe. Mum 17 coming when the fights got harder, because she couldn't bear to see the blood. She'll 18 sit at home or in the hotel, waiting until it's all over.

    The boxing world can be a very lonely one, and I'm so 19 every day to have Dad and my whole family behind me. It would be unthinkable if I didn't have their 20.

    Cheating often happens in our city. It can be hard to know who is really in 1 and who is trying to take advantage of other people's 2.

    Recently, I was finishing my work at home 3 the dog barked, letting me know that 4 was at the gate. I rushed to see who it was and there I saw a 5 weak woman in her late fifties.

I said to her, "May I ask what you 6?"

    She 7, "Hello, my name is Parvathy. My husband and I live nearby. We earn our living 8 working at construction sites. A few days ago my 9 fell off the stairs while 10 a heavy load. He is 11 hurt and hasn't been able to 12 for the past five days, so we have no food. Now he is in bed with a high fever. Please help me! I need to take my husband to a doctor!"

    "Oh!" I said. "Please 13 here." I went into the room. I felt really bad about her 14 but ...Was she telling me the 15 or trying to cheat money?

    Finally, I 16 to help her. But first I said a simple prayer, "Dear Lord, you know 17 I earn my pennies, so please make sure that my hard-earned money helps those who 18 need it."

    I went out with a fifty note and 19 it to her. The moment she got the money she broke down in tears. She took my hand and said, "Thank you so much!"

    I was so 20, and left.

    "Paul must have been trying to carry his waste paper to garbage can and dropped a few pieces." I1, picking them up.2later I found more pieces. No quiet sighing this time. I3, "Who is throwing garbage?" No answer. Instead, I saw more bits of paper4floating down from upstairs. Looking up. I saw my seven-year-old son, Paul.

    "Stop making a mess." "It's not a mess. They're5." "Sorry, what did you say?" I hadn't heard him clearly.

    He didn't answer me. Paul has autism (自闭症) and6answers a question, especially when he's7attentively on something else. He ran down the stairs. "Where are my other butterflies he asked,8around. Every time Paul9five or more words together, my heart says a10of thanks. But lately he seems to11that the benefits of forming complete sentences when communicating are12of the effort.

    Butterflies. Of course. I rushed to13them from the garbage,14them off and handed them to my young artist "Want to see them15again?" he asked with a shy smile. "Oh yes! They're beautiful." I whispered. He ran back upstairs to float his16down again. They really did look like beautiful butterflies.

    That day Paul17me to look up at18instead of down at garbage. How many other masterpieces (杰作) do I miss because I'm too caught up in my19to take time to appreciate what's right in front of me? Life is not what happens to us. It's20we look at it Now, I look up.