My best friend has two first names. One is Heather, and the others Na-ri. I {#blank#}1{#/blank#}(never see) her use the name Na-ri. But today, for the first time, she is writing a letter with this name.

    She {#blank#}2{#/blank#}(bear) in South Korea and adopted by American parents when she was two years old one day, she told me about her childhood. When she went out to dinner, some South Korean strangers tried to talk to her in Korean. She didn't understand what they {#blank#}3{#/blank#} (say), so she just looked at them. She said that she still remembered how they looked at her. Their eyes seemed to say, "Poor girl. You are an abandoned child." From that day, Heather tried to keep saying to herself that she was American.

    Two days ago, she received a letter from South Korea. The letter {#blank#}4{#/blank#} (send) to Na-ri. She was so surprised that she couldn't open the letter. So I did it for her. The letter was written in Korean. I said, "Heather, you should ask someone {#blank#}5{#/blank#}(read) this for you. It was written in Korean." But she was silent.

    Yesterday, on the way home,I saw her {#blank#}6{#/blank#} (cry) on a bench near my house. "What is it,honey?" I said. She told me that her birth mother had blood cancer, and the only cure for her illness might be Heather's blood. I asked how she knew this. Heather said she had learned Korean secretly. Crying hard, Heather only repeated, "What should I do? What should I do?" I really had no answer.

    This morning, Heather called me. "{#blank#}7{#/blank#}you{#blank#}8{#/blank#}(be) with me when I write a letter to South Korea?" I gladly went over to her house. Heather didn't seem to have slept at all. I hugged her and told her everything would be okay. Now I {#blank#}9{#/blank#}(sit) in front of Heather watching her write a letter. She hasn't told me what she is writing, but I can guess. Heather is writing, "Na-ri is coming, mother."