Every year on my birthday, from the time I turned twelve, a bunch of white gardenia (栀子花) was delivered to my house. No card or note came with it.1to the flower shops were not helpful at all—it was a cash2.After a while I stopped trying to 3who the sender was and just delighted in the beauty and perfume of the white flowers in soft pink paper.

    But I never4 imagining who the sender might be. Some of my 5moments were spent daydreaming about it. My mother6to these imaginings. She would ask me whether there was someone for whom I had done a(n)7kindness and said that he/ she might be showing 8. Perhaps the neighbor I helped when she was9 a car full of groceries. Or maybe it was the old man10the street whose mail I helped to get during the 11so he wouldn't have to risk down his icy steps. As a young girl12 I tended to guess that it might be a boy who had noticed me a long time 13I didn't know him.

    One month before my high school graduation, my father died of a heart attack. My feelings ranged from grief to abandonment and fear. He was 14some of the most important events in my life. And I became completely15 in my upcoming dance in my graduation ceremony.

    The day before my father died, my mother and I had gone shopping for a dress. We'd found a splendid one, but it was the wrong size. When my father died, I16about the dress. My mother didn't. The day before the graduation ceremony, I found that beautiful dress, in the right size, on the sofa. I didn't17whether I had a new dress or not, but my mother did. She wanted her children to feel18and lovable, believing that there was a magic in the world and19in the face of hard times. In truth, Mother wanted her children to see themselves much like the gardenia—lovely20 and perfect with perhaps a bit of mystery.

    My mother passed away ten days after I was married. I was 22. That was the year the gardenia stopped coming.

    Joe Biggs was a butcher. His shop was in a village in the beautiful south of England, and he 1 in it for many years while his father was there. Then when his father reached the age of 65, he stopped working in the shop, and Joe was alone in it, so he had to work2.

    Joe worked five and a half days a week. His shop3at one o'clock on Thursday, and it was closed the whole of Sunday. Saturdays were the4 days.

    Most of Joe's 5 came to his shop from the nearest town, but sometimes he got up earlier than usual in the morning and 6 into the city to choose meat. It was7 there.

    Joe had a big8 in his shop, but he tried not to buy too 9 meat at a time, and to 10 it before he bought more.

    One 11 a woman came into the shop at five minutes to one. “Sorry I'm late,” she said, “but some friends have just telephoned to say that they are coming to 12 tonight, and I need more 13.

Joe only had one piece of meat in the shop. He had sold all the others 14 in the day. He took the piece15 and said to the woman, “This is 6.5 pounds.”

    “That piece is too16 the woman said. “Haven't you got anything bigger?”

    Joe went17the room behind his shop, opened the refrigerator, put the piece of meat into it, took it out18 and shut the door of the refrigerator 19 then he brought the piece of meat back to the woman and said, “This piece is bigger and more expensive. It's 8.75 pounds.”

    “Good,” the woman answered with a smile, “give me20 of them, please.”

    When I heard the news, tears ran down my face. Some years ago on a hot summer day, a little boy decided to go for a 1 in the lake behind his house. In a hurry to dive into the 2 water, he ran out of the back door. He flew into the water, not 3 that an alligator（鳄鱼）was swimming toward the 4. His mother in the house was 5 of the window and saw the alligator 6 it got closer and closer. In fear, she ran toward the water, yelling to her sin as 7as she could.

    Hearing her voice, the little boy became 8 and made a return to swim to his mother. It was to 9. Just as he reached her, the alligator 10 him. From the shore, the mother grasped her little boy by the arms just as the alligator grasped his legs. The alligator was much 11 than the mother, but the mother was much too struggling to let the boy go. A farmer happened to drive by, heard her 12, raced from his truck, took aim and 13 the alligator.

    14, after weeks in the hospital, the little boy 15. His legs were scarred by the animal and, on his arms, were 16 scratches where his mother's fingernails scratched. A newspaper reporter, who 17 the boy, asked if he would show him his 18. The boy lifted his pant legs. And then, with obvious 19, he said to the reporter, “But look at my arms. I have great scars on my arms, too. I have them because my mom wouldn't let me go. They are my mother's 20 for me.”

    Larry works with Transport Drivers, Inc. One morning in 2009, Larry was 1 along 165 north after delivering to one of his 2. Suddenly, he saw a car with its bright lights on. 3he got closer, he found 4 vehicle upside down on the road. One more look and he noticed 5shooting out from under the 6vehicle. Larry pulled over, set the brake and 7 the fire extinguisher(灭火器). Two good bursts from the extinguisher and the fire was put out.

    The man who had his bright lights on 8 and told Larry he had 9 an emergency call. They 10 heard a woman's voice coming from the wrecked(毁坏的) vehicle. 11the vehicle, they saw that a woman was trying to get out of the broken window. They told her to stay12until the emergency personnel arrived, 13she thought the car was going to 14. Larry told her that he had already put out the fire and she should not move 15she injured her neck.

    Once fire and emergency people arrived, Larry and the other man 16and let them go to work. Then, Larry asked the 17if he was needed or 18 to go. They let him and the other man go.

    One thing is 19— Larry went above and beyond the call of duty by getting so close to the burning vehicle! His 20most likely saved the woman's life.

Dada Band is a popular Chinese rock group from the 1990s. The band {#blank#}1{#/blank#}（found）in Beijing by a group of young musicians who were deeply influenced by Western rock music but sought {#blank#}2{#/blank#}（create）a sound that was distinctly their own.

One of their most beloved songs, "South"（Nánfāng）, shows the essence of Dada Band's artistry. This song is a vivid reflection on the feelings of homesickness and longing for their hometown of Wuhan, {#blank#}3{#/blank#}（especial）as the members were living in Beijing during their formative years as a band. The song's lyrics（歌词）paint {#blank#}4{#/blank#} rich picture of personal memories and universal emotions, revealing the essence of {#blank#}5{#/blank#} it means to leave a part of oneself behind in the pursuit of dreams.

With its soft melodies（旋律）and {#blank#}6{#/blank#}（touch）lyrics, "South" offers a window into the soul of Dada Band. Dada's music shows their {#blank#}7{#/blank#}（remark）skill in harmoniously integrating Western rock influences with the unique sensibilities of Chinese culture, creating a sound that was both familiar and fresh {#blank#}8{#/blank#} the audience. The track {#blank#}9{#/blank#}（become）an anthem（赞歌）since its release for anyone who has ever felt the pull of home while navigating the challenges of life away from it.

Their song "South" remains a timeless piece, continuing to touch the hearts of listeners across {#blank#}10{#/blank#}（generation）and geographical boundaries, reminding them of the power of music to connect us all to our roots and to each other.

When I decided to leave my home country to pursue a degree in Canada, I hadn't expected that communication would be an issue.{#blank#}1{#/blank#}I took English lessons in my teens and scored well on English tests.

But soon after my arrival in Canada, I realized how wrong I was. In research discussions, surrounded by native English speakers, I had to be careful. I needed to consciously follow each conversation and translate it to my native language.{#blank#}2{#/blank#}Finally, I tried to find the right English words to communicate that response. Constantly thinking about what I would say next, I had a hard time remaining focused in conversations.

But when I again failed to say exactly what I meant in a meeting a few months later, a simple idea occurred to me. {#blank#}3{#/blank#}Communicating with my colleagues by e-mail, I had more time to think and comfortably express my thoughts. Over time, this practice helped improve my English significantly.

{#blank#}4{#/blank#}I decided to remind them that English is not my first language. I asked them to speak more slowly to help me follow the discussions. It was a little awkward to draw attention to what might be seen as a weakness. And at first, the other members of the research team seemed slightly surprised. But the dynamics quickly improved. They seemed to become more aware of how they were speaking, and I felt more comfortable joining in the conversation.{#blank#}5{#/blank#}.

A. Plus, I learned to be open with my colleagues.

B. Why not contribute to the discussion in writing?

C. I had thought I could express myself in English easily.

D. Gradually I grew uncomfortable with oral communication.

E. Then, I had to reflect carefully on it and think of a response.

F. With efforts on both sides, we could overcome language barriers.

G. How can one deny the significance of effective communication?