The day finally came, when I had to leave the warm home where I'd grown up. I ran to the back yard, as tears came up from my heart. Suddenly I 1 a hand rest on my shoulder. I looked up to 2  my grandfather. “It isn't 3 , is it, Billy?” he said softly.

    He gently 4  my hand in his, and then we walked, hand in hand, to the front yard, 5 a huge red rose-bush sat alone.

    “What do you see here, Billy?” he asked. I looked at the flowers, not knowing 6  to say, and then answered, “I see something soft and 7 ,  Grandpa.”

    He pulled me 8 . “It isn't just the roses that are beautiful, Billy. It's that special place in your heart that makes them so.” “Billy, I 9 these roses when my first son was born. It was my 10  of saying ‘thank you' to God. I 11 to watch him pick roses for his mother. Then, as a young man of only 20, a terrible war robbed him of his life.” Grandpa slowly stood up. “Never say good-bye, Billy. Never 12  to the sadness and the loneliness. Instead, I want you to remember the joy and the 13  when you first said hello to a friend.”

    A year later, my grandpa became very 14 . Then all members of the family were 15  back, and I returned to the old house. When it came to my 16 , I took his hand as 17  as he had once taken mine.

    “Hello, Grandpa,” I 18 . His eyes slowly opened and said, “Hello, my friend.” With a brief (短迅的) 19  he died. Suddenly, and truly, I knew what he had 20  about never saying good-bye — about refusing to give in to sadness.

    People from every corner1into the streets that Christmas Eve. "Frosty the Snowman," and "Jingle Bells"2in stores; on the pavements, the street singers performed happily. Everyone was3by someone else, delighted and cheerful. I was alone.

    As one of 8 kids of a Brazilian family, brought up in America's crowded apartment, I'd spent several years searching for aloneness. Now4 at 27, a college student after the5with my girlfriend, every cell inside me wanted to be alone6not at Christmas. My family had returned to Brazil and my friends were7with their own lives. Dusk was approaching, and the fact that I had to return to my8home made me sad. Lights from windows blinked , and I hoped someone would 9from one of those homes to invite me inside with a Christmas tree decorated with shiny fake snow and beautiful10.

    At a market, I felt more11when people were buying lots of goods, which12the gifts we received as children in my mind. I missed my family and wanted to cry for wanting to be alone and for having achieved it.

Outside the church, a manger(小耶稣) had been set up . I stood silently watching the 13 some of people were crossing themselves,14.As I walked home, I realized that leaving Brazil was still a painful experience as I struggled with15 I had become in 15 years in America. I16 the losses, but for the first time, I recognized what I'd gained. I was independent17and healthy. My life was still ahead, full of18

    Sometimes the best gift is the one that you give yourself. That Christmas, I gave myself19for what I'd obtained up to now and promise to go forward. It is the best gift I've ever got, the one that I most20.

    As my husband, Doug, stood on the busy New York city street to stop a taxi, I tried to protect my daughter from the cold December wind and rain. I put my head down to kiss her1face.

    Frustrated and wet, my husband gave up his attempt to hail a taxi. I knew the feeling. Just after her first birthday, we were told our daughter Katie has a2brain illness. Since that moment, Doung and I felt like3in a marathon race where the finish line kept disappearing. We knew Katie was running out of4. It had taken months before we finally had a name for the5, but we were told only a few specialists in the world knew how to6it. Now, as we finally found a brilliant doctor to7our girl, we were in a strange city in the cold rain.

    Just at the moment, a middle-aged woman8and said, “Pardon me? May I offer you a(n)9?

    Before we could say10, she continued, “It's really no11for me. Just get in.”

    It was then that I noticed her thick Irish12, which13me up like hot soup. We14said, “Thanks! Roosevelt Hospital, please,” as we got in her car for the ride.

    “Are you going for the baby?” she asked us.

    I nodded my head, holding back my15.

    At the hospital, we16her a dozen times for the ride. As the woman hugged me, I noticed her face was17with tears. She promised to pray for us before she left.

    After three more visits to New York and two more18surgeries (手术), Katie is cured. But the voice of the Irish Angel still rang as a constant19of a tiny ray of light that appeared in our20days.

    During my P.E. class I met with a girl, who was in a grade lower than me. She was always 1 on the playground and I wondered why she had 2 to talk to. I was sort of quiet girl myself, too, but I still had a few 3 Over the whole year I would say "Hi" to her 4 sometimes she came to me and we 5 whatever sports we liked most.

    Whenever she came over I made it my 6 to make her laugh. I paid most of my 7 to her and not to my other friends because I saw them playing together 8 over there. Then, the 9 day of school year came around, I walked with her on the playground by ourselves. I asked her why she was so quiet. She told me her father left her 10 and her. Her mother was always crying at home. 11 this, I said nothing for a while. Then what I could do was 12 her to forget unhappiness and believe tomorrow is 13. That day I told her I was leaving for high school. Hearing this, she asked me not to 14 her. She told me that she had no other friends and I was her only one. Then, she told me that she would 15 me if l was in the high school. I 16 that I would go back to see her twice a week. Hearing my promise, her face 17 with smiles.

    People lose friends all the time but wise people know how to 18 the friendship. So don't ruin the 19 as time passes by. Remember that you are 20 to have a good friend.

    Hunter Shamatt lost his wallet while he was on a flight from Omaha to Denver earlier this month. Upon realizing that his wallet was lost, he 1 the airline to see if anyone had turned it in — but fruitlessly. 2the wallet contained his ID, a signed paycheck, $60 in cash, etc, he feared the worst.

    Two days after the flight, however, Hunter was 3 to receive a package in the mail from an anonymous (匿名的) sender. Inside was his wallet — 4 an additional $40 in cash. "I rounded your cash up to an even $100 so you could celebrate the 5 of your wallet.", read a letter that was enclosed with the package.

    Hunter's mother, Jeannie, posted a photo of the 6 to social media in hopes that they would be able to track down the sender. All they had to go on was that the letter was 7 from Applied Underwriters in Omaha and the sender's initials were signed "T.B". The sender was later 8 as Todd Brown, who was delighted to "have a little fun" with helping out a hard­working stranger.

    "I saw he was just a kid, 20 years old. He had a paycheck in there, so I 9, 'Well, he's doing his best to make ends meet.' " said Brown. "Hunter was very 10. He told me he has some student loans to pay within two days so the 11 was right," Brown added, "He 12 it was gone forever. So when he opened it, he just started screaming, 'No way! No way!'"

    Brown says that he often tries to do good things without any recognition; that's why he didn't sign his 13on the letter, but Jeannie later insisted on 14 him on social media. Jeannie wrote on Facebook, "This story is more about rebuilding 15 in people than anything."

Worth the pain in the end

    I used to hate running. It seemed too hard and pushing outside my comfort zone was not something I was raised to do.

    In fact, I wouldn't have become a1if it weren't for my husband Charles. He had been a serious competitive runner for many years. After our marriage, he wouldn't stop talking about how much he missed it.

    "So start running again, why don't you?" I was getting 2 of hearing about it.

    So he picked it up again, and after about a year, I started to join him at the track (跑道). Just a few weeks later, Charles signed us both up for a five-kilometer race. I 3about doing it. It was too soon.

    But on 4 day, there I was.

    The gun went  5. Thousands of runners pushed forward.

    The first kilometer was 6.

    "I don't think I'm going to make it." I was already breathing heavily and painfully aware of the group of runners  7 past me.

    "No, you're doing 8", said Charles. He was trying to encourage me, to get me focused on something other than my  9.

    "I can't, " I said, 10 audibly (听得见地).

    He tried a different way to 11 me. "Just make it to that house and let's see how you feel."

    After another minute I saw the three-kilometer  12. All I could think of was that I was dying and that my husband was torturing (折磨) me.

    Miserable doesn't even begin to describe  13 I felt. And there was so much 14.

    "You'll be fine. You've got less than a kilometer to go."

    I rounded a corner and saw both sides of the street thick with people watching the race, all cheering the runners on. I 15 my legs to keep going.

    Then I looked up and saw the clock. The seconds ticking away (一分一秒地过去) gave me an incentive (助力). I knew that if I finished this race, I would have achieved something. So, I straightened up, and kicked it.

    I had my arms held higher when I passed 16the finish line. A volunteer put a 17 around my neck.

    "You did great! I'm so 18 of you!" Charles was thrilled that I'd 19 it.

    "That was AMAZING! I want to do another race. This running stuff is amazing!" I proudly hugged my medal as we started to walk to the post-race festivities.

    My lungs and my comfort zone both 20.