“Who can ever have imagined that someone like me would make it this far?” asked Chad Wood last week during his high school graduation speech as the best student. Chad offered 1 to his fellow classmates to never give up-and the words 2much more to himself. That's because Chad is deaf, and he told the story of the serious troubles he 3 to graduate first in his class at Harrison High school in Kennesaw, Georgia.

    Chad didn't start to 4 until he was 5, according to his mother, Pam Wood. Although her son was 5 a disadvantage, she was determined not to treat him6.“I've expected him to do everything every other kid does, and I saw no 7 why he couldn't,” she told ABC News.“And if he 8the first time, we just tried again.”

    Chad, 17, worked hard throughout school, 9 no special treatment but sitting at the front of the class and using a special audio system so he could hear the teacher. All his hard work 10. He received full school fare to Vanderbilt University. “Deafness had taught me a lesson to never11 ,” he said in the speech. ”Not when the experts tell you it cannot be done. Not when you have 12 so far behind that escaping seems the only way 13. Not when achieving your dreams seems an entire 14.”

    Chad spoke for about four minutes, after which he received a standing applause from the class and 15 messages from family, friends and strangers. “They've been sending me messages on Facebook, email; they've been talking to me in person telling me how it had a 16 on their lives and how they're really 17 by it,” Chad told ABC News. “It feels 18. Seeing that my words 19 have a power on someone and that they want to work harder 20 my words makes me feel wonderful.”

    I guess the day I went to college was one of the happiest of my mother's life. Istill remember the day we 1 there.

    Because, to my mother who dropped out of school during the war, this was a big 2, on which she insisted that I 3 a white shirt and a necktie. But when we finally reached the campus and got off the car, we were 4 by young men in tank tops (背心)and shorts. I felt that my mother made me 5.

    She wanted to know where the 6 was, and found someone to give us 7, “Charley, look at all the books!” she felt 8. “You could stay in here all four years.''

    Everywhere we went she kept 9. “Look! That small area—you could study there.” And, “Look, that cafeteria table, you could eat there.” I 10 it because I knew she would be leaving soon.

    An hour later, I carried my trunk to the stairwell of my dormitory. My mother was holding my two baseball bats.

    “Here,” I said, 11 my hand,” I'll take the 12.”

    “ I'll go up with you. ”

    “No, it's all right.”

    “ 13 I want to see your room.”

    I couldn't think of anything else that wouldn't 14 her feelings, so I just pushed my hand out farther. Her face 15 and handed me the bats.

    “Charley,” she said. Her voice was 16 now, and it sounded different. “Give your mother a kiss.” I leaned forward. She threw her arms 17 my neck and drew me close. I could smell her perfume and her hair spray that she used for this 18 day.

    I pulled away, lifted the trunk, and began my climb, 19 my mother in the stairwell of a dormitory, as close as she would 20 get to a college education.

    In March 2007,I was recovering from an operation for breast cancer and going through a terrible time. I spent my days at home1everything to myself. Then one of my colleagues suggested2“Why don't you pick a couple of days and go to Ireland and escape?” I3the tip.

    The trip was fun, but when I got on the4to go home ,I wasn't feeling well. My plan was to sleep for the5journey, but the guy next to me looked good-hearted for a conversation6he had kind eyes.

    “I had an operation,” I said7'I had breast cancer.' 'He paused for a moment and said,“ What's wrong with that? Breast cancer is just a small8of you, like going to college or getting married.”

    I could feel my eyes9up with tears.

    “Don't think too much of your problem,” he said. “Instead, think about how many people you could help.”

    I had tears coming down my face, and said, “I can't10I'm crying in front of you, I don't11know you.”

    “Look, you have a12in life,” he said. “You can either13your things deep in your pockets and take them to your grave, or you can help someone.”

    I've always been a very14person, and aside from the few people who needed to know, I'd kept my illness secret. I didn't want to be15by my weakness.

    But this man, whose name was Ken Duane, showed me that my illness gave me16-because it gave me the ability to17someone else's load. I decided at that moment that I was going to try to help others by sharing my story18,in hopes of inspiring those who were in the same or similar situation. Later that year, I talked about my illness and my19with Ken on air.

    I am forever20that I never took a nap on that flight over the Atlantic.

    A lot happened to me while I lived on Thirteenth Street. I 1 school at Miss Marie Purkins' School for Little Folks kindergarten which I loved until I broke my leg one day 2  rope. And it wasn't3  a moving rope. One of the rope ends in the playground was tied to a tree, the other end to a swing set. The kids would  4  on one side and take turns running and jumping over it. All the other kids5 the rope.

    But I had no6I was a little short and fat anyway, and I was so slow that I was once the only kid at an Easter egg hunt who didn't get a7egg, not because I couldn't find them but because I couldn't get to them 8enough. On the day I tried to jump rope but I was wearing cowboy boots to school. Like a fool I didn't9the boots to jump. My heel 10  on the rope, so I turned, fell and hurt my leg. I lay in11on the ground for several minutes while Daddy12over from his company to get me.

    I had broken my leg above the knee, and13I was growing so fast, the doctor was 14to put me in a cast up to my hip.  15  he made a hole through my ankle, pushed a stainless steel bar through it. And then he 16 it to a stainless steel horseshoe, and 17 my leg up in the air over my hospital bed. For two months, I had been lying on my 18 feeling both foolish, waiting to return to my19 . I missed my playmates so much.

    After I got out of the hospital, my folks bought me a bicycle,20I never lost my fear of riding without the training wheels. No wonder people say, "Once bitten, twice shy."

When Marcus, a homeless man, walked into a small cafe, begging for spare change, he didn't get 1. Instead, Cesia, the owner, kindly asked why he didn't have a job. 2 his head to avoid eye contact, he replied, "I used to be in prison and no one wants to 3 me." Although Cesia had hit some hard times of her own at the cafe, she was short of hands that day and 4 Marcus a position, washing dishes for two hours.

With a big smile, Marcus 5 accepted it. While Marcus was busy with the dishes, Cesia made him a sandwich. Marcus immediately walked out to the street and 6 it with a homeless woman. "Do you know the lady over there?" she asked out of 7. "No, but I know she is hungry." That really 8 Cesia.

Since business was not good, Cesia couldn't 9 to employ him. So at the end of that day, they said their goodbyes. 10, much to her surprise, Marcus continued to 11 on time for work every day. When he got 12, he bought food from the cafe, refusing to take it for free. When asked why, he said, "It makes me feel 13." Marcus was showing that he was really a nice person. For Cesia who was going through a dark period, Marcus became a 14 in her life.

"People need someone who 15 them and even lends a helping hand." Cesia wrote on Facebook, "Just like Marcus, I had my 16 when in trouble. I had many people to help make it to where I am today. Do something 17 for someone else and don't 18 them just because they're out there asking for money, for we don't know their real 19. Some deserve another 20."

    I met Mrs. Neidl in the ninth grade on a stage-design team for a play and she was one of the directors. Almost instantly I loved her. She had an unpleasant voice and a direct way of speaking, 1 she was encouraging and inspiring. For some reason, she was impressed with my work and Mrs. Neidl would ask me for my 2. She wanted to know how I thought we should 3 things. At first I had no idea how to answer because I knew 4 about stage design! But I slowly began to respond to her 5. It was cause and effect. She believed I had opinions, so I began to 6 them. She trusted me to complete things, so I completed them perfectly. She loved how 7 I was, so I began to show up to paint more and more. She believed in me, so I began to believe in myself.

Mrs. Neidl's 8 that year was, "Try it. We can always paint over it 9!" I began to take 10. I had been so afraid of failing but suddenly there was no failing—only things to 11 upon. I learned to dip my brush into the paint and 12 create something.

    The shy, quiet freshman achieved success that year. I was 13 in the program as "Student Art Assistant" because of the time and effort I'd put in. It was that year that I 14 I wanted to spend the rest of my life doing stage design.

    Being on that stage-design team 15 Mrs. Neidl changed me completely. Not only was I stronger and more competent than I had thought, but I also 16 a strong interest and a word I hadn't known existed. She taught me not to 17 what people think I should do. She taught me to take chances and not be 18. Mrs. Neidl was my comforter when I was upset. Her 19 in me has inspired me to do things that I never imagined 20.