Running for a Dream

     I will never forget that November day. It was hotter than normal. This was the 1my father and I had waited so long for, because we had been working towards this race for three years. Dozens of familiar faces from church and school flashed across my view. They had come 2 me. I saw worry and 3 on my father's face. Then the race began!

        For the first two and a half miles, I felt 4. I had never before been so ready for something. The weeks leading up to the race were filled with controlled5 and a strict diet. My friends hadn't seen me in weeks, but they understood the6  required to make my dream a reality. As in all of my races, I didn't7 out in the front, I loved the pleasure of passing people as my strength overtook their premature speed.

       Then without warning, my strength began to decrease. Neck and neck with one of my greatest competitors, I 8 see the finish line. I had begun the final dash into 9 when my knees became weak and my legs gave way. Nothing I could do would make them 10 weight.

       I watched as runners rushed by me. 11 I knew my dreams of victory were destroyed, I had to finish the race. However, my legs hurt badly. With all of the 12 left in me, I got on my hands and knees and crawled (爬), inch by inch, across the finish line. Voices, both 13 and familiar, cheered me on. They gave me the courage to keep 14 until the very end.

        The doctors were there in seconds, but my eyes searched the crowd for him. There was only one person I wanted to 15to. I whispered, “I'm so sorry, Dad, I'm so sorry I16 you.” He looked at me, saying, “You could never disappoint me. Sometimes these things just 17 ． All that matters is that you did your best.”

      “But we worked so 18 ． What about our dream?” He reached over for my hand and said, “Don't you know that you are my dream and it has come true?”

       It wasn't long before my running shoes were back on, marking a 19 path for my journey, I learned that all of the miles, the tears, the sweat, and the pain my dad and I experienced together were not for a 20. What I realized, though, was that to him, I was the greatest prize he had ever won.

When I was about five years old, I used to watch a bird in the skies of southern Alberta from the Blackfoot Blood Reserve in northern Montana where I was born.I loved this bird; I would 1 him for hours. He would 2 effortlessly in that gigantic sky, or he would come down and light on the 3 and float there beautifully.Sometimes when I watched him, he would not make a sound and liked to move 4 into the grasses.We called him meksikatsi, which in the Blackfoot language 5 "pink-colored feet"; meksikatsi and I became very good friends.

    The bird had a very particular significance to me 6  I desperately wanted to be able to fly too.I felt very much as if I was the kind of person who had been born into a world where 7  was impossible. And most of the things that I8  about would not be possible for me but would be possible only for other people.

    When I was ten years old, something unexpected 9  my life suddenly. I found myself become an 10  child in a family I was not born into; I found myself in a 11  position that many native Americans find themselves in, living in a city that they do not understand at all, not in another culture but 12 two cultures.

A teacher of the English language told me that meksikatsi was not called meksikatsi, even though that is what 13 people have called that bird for thousands of years.Meksikatsi, he said, was really "duck".I was very 14 with English.I could not understand it.First of all, the bird did not look like "duck", and when it made a 15 , it did not sound like "duck", I was even more 16 when I found out that the meaning of the verb "to duck" came from the bird.

    As I 17  to understand English better, I understand that it made a great deal of 18 , but I never forgot that meksikatsi made a different kind of meaning.I19  that languages are not just different words for the same things but totally different 20 , totally different ways of experiencing and looking at the world.

    As I was taking a walk with my mom, I asked her, “Have you taken the senior bus yet?” I held my breath as I waited for her1. “Oh, yes. I have,” she said. “How was it?” I said the words as2 as I could to show my excitement, even though I sensed the answer was not going to be 3. She sighed heavily, “No one ever4 on that bus. They all sit there quietly and look sad. I only see about thirteen 5 old ladies and men.” My6 for her situation grasped my stomach.

    My dad had recently passed away, and his sudden leave made my mother7 and frightened. For fifty-seven years, my dad had walked by her side. Mom never learned to 8, so Dad drove her everywhere. Now, her wheels were gone, as one grandchild so properly9 her situation. I knew she needed great 10 to make the decision to take the senior bus. However, I firmly believed the11 wouldn't last too long, for Mom was so outgoing and active that she could chat with almost everybody whom she met in the street.

    Several days later, when I came to visit her, I asked, “Do they talk to you now?” She12 and there was a sparkle (火花) in her eyes. It didn't take a genius to figure out that the 13 had changed. “It was silly that all of us just sat there14 saying a word. So one morning when I 15, I greeted them and then remarked that what a nice day it was. Soon, they began to 16 and we chatted happily. Now we are friends and always have some good 17 on the bus, ” she replied.

    My mother held the key to the 18 of the other lonely people on that bus. A smile and some 19 words were all it took. She sowed tiny seeds of 20 for herself and her friends on the bus.

    When you live in a seasonal environment, you can learn that both outdoor and indoor activities have their place. As the seasons1 so does your mood. Certain activities become more or less attractive2 the weather and the length of the day.

    Spring is a time of the year when the world starts to3 from its winter sleep. During this season, I enjoy going on long walks through parks and watching the world come4.

    Many consider summer to be the top of the year. The city comes into full swing5 the weather becomes warmer and warmer. During the summer, I prefer to spend the daytime anywhere that is air-conditioned. This 6include the library, a shopping center or a movie theater. I often enjoy spending the7evenings sitting on the wide balcony of my house and having drinks with my friends.

    Fall, with the8 of the leaves and the summer heat gradually 9is probably another 10 time to go on long walks during the day. I love to be 11during fall and see the life of the city returning to its hibernation (冬眠). Another12to go outside during autumn is to 13the last days of warmth until the next year.

    Winter14 the shortening of days and cooler weather. Outdoor activities tend to become less 15 and sinking down on the sofa with a good book becomes my16 activity. It is not enjoyable to spend time outside if it is too 17I only choose to go outside when I want to go skiing.

    So, my 18to spend time indoors or outdoors is vastly dependent on the19. Different seasons 20different activities and therefore it is Impossible to choose whether I would spend all of my spare time indoors or outdoors.

    Ann, a mother of 3 children, is a warm-hearted social worker and she has done a lot to help people1 . The family's dinner conversation often turns to local poor families, and she 2 tries her best to seek help for them. This year, Ann 3 that the pretended Santa Claus would pay a special 4 to a young unemployed mother named Ashley, who was 5 two sons by herself.

    One Sunday morning, the family were joyfully having breakfast 6 the phone rang, saying that the help she had requested for Ashley had 7. No Santa Claus, no presents, nothing. On hearing the news, Ann noticed the 8 disappear from her children's faces. Kinzie, the youngest one, 9 down from her chair and ran out of the kitchen room. In only a few 10, she returned carrying her piggy bank and began to 11 the coins over and over again, $3.30 in total. “Mom,” she shook her head 12, “I know it's not much. But maybe this will buy a 13 for the children.” Then suddenly everyone was reaching into their pockets and 14 their purses. Immediately, the money-coins and bills 15 on the table. The next day, Ann as well as Kinzie drove to Ashley's house. After Ann wished the 16 the woman a Merry Christmas, she began to unload the gifts from the car, 17 them to Ashley one by one and told her the whole story.

    Ashley was moved to tears 18the words: Kinzie opened not only her piggy bank but also her 19, and my children as well as I myself would be able to do something 20 for someone else in need.

    When my sister Diane began playing the violin, she was seven. How did she sound? Terrible. But she didn't 1. At twelve, she asked our parents if she could 2 a full-time music school. They said no. Actually, everyone agreed that my sister 3 talent.

    I was better at my 4. My teacher had told my parents that I had great 5. So my parents found the best piano teacher in the area to 6  me. But the only time he was 7 was Saturday afternoons at 3 pm. Back then, I was 8 by the British TV show "The Avengers", which was 9 every Saturday at 3 pm. I let nothing take up my "The Avengers" hour. So I 10 this amazing opportunity. Today, I don't even have a 11 in my house.

    My sister became an engineer, but she 12 stopped making music. When she was in her 40s, she changed her 13. She went back to college, got a(n) 14 in music education, and became a music teacher. She starts kids out on their first instrument and gives them all the encouragement and support she never 15.

    Recently, she and a pianist pal put on a recital. A big crowd of friends and family 16 for her. As she played, I looked around at the 17. Everyone was 18 enjoying the music. It occurred to me that I was the only person who remembered that 7-year-old kid making those perfectly 19 sounds and knew how far she had come, despite 20.

    Talent is important. But enthusiasm is even more important.