It was 7:00 am in Paris,France,and the taxi company had just called a second time to say they couldn't find my house.Once again I spelt out1even a blind person could follow.I glanced2at my watch,and waited.Only two hours remained3my flight left—and it was one and a half hours4to the airport.

    Outside,heavy rains were5.My house was so far north in the city that buses6only three times a day.

    The telephone rang again."Terribly sorry,"began the man at the taxi company.Then I realized that the taxi company,flooded with calls,could only7in-city runs.I had heard this happens when the8gets bad.I9into the phone that I had a10to catch and I would meet the taxi outside my house.

    Standing in the wind-driven rain,I looked11the road.No taxi.A car went by,the driver and passenger staring at the12foreigner in the downpour.

    13a white car appeared and14to a stop.A young man threw open the door,waving to me to get in.Shaking with cold and15,I climbed in.

    In the most16French,the man said he was called Will,with whom I had spoken three times that morning.He had left his post in the office and17here in his personal car.He18again,but didn't explain why no taxi would pick me up19me straight to the airport,he refused the 2,000 franc I pressed into his hand.

    A few hours later,as the storm-delayed plane20,I opened the newspaper.On the second page my eyes caught the headline of a short article: Taxi Strike Begins This Morning in Paris.

    When I was a little girl, I remember that when my dad was repairing something, every time he asked me to 1 the hammer, just so we would have a time for a 2 with each other. I 3saw my dad drinking or taking a night out with the boys, all he did after 4 was taking care of his family.

    I 5 and left home for college and since then, my dad had been calling me every Sunday morning, no matter what. And when several 6 later I bought a house, my dad was 7 it by himself for three days in the 80°F summer heat. All he 8 was to hold his paint brush and talk to him. But I was too9in those days, I did not find any time for a conversation with my dad.

    One Sunday 10 we had a telephone talk as usual, I noticed that my dad had 11some things that we discussed 12 . I was in a hurry, so our conversation was 13 . Few hours later that day came a call. My father was in a hospital with an aneurysm(动脉瘤). 14 I bought a ticket for a flight and 15 I was thinking about all 16 occasions(场合) to have a talk with my dad.

    By the time I 17 at the hospital, my father had passed away. Now it was he who did not have 18 for a conversation with me. After his death I 19much more about him, and even more about myself. All he ever asked me was my time. And now he has all my 20every single day.

    The day I received my letter of acceptance to New York University, I was extremely excited. It was my dream university, and my1were pleased for me. But they also hadn't2me to get into such a competitive school. In fact, the best thing they ever did for me was to3me from doing things4indeed, when I was in elementary school, they offered to buy me a present5I got a C.

    It6when I was in third grade. An only child in an Asian family, I had just7with my family from Taiwan to Los Angeles. Months into third grade, I developed a strong feeling of8about getting bad grades. Seeing my anxiety, Dad said, "Kate, tell you what. If you get a C or9, I'll buy you a present. If you score higher than that, I won't buy you anything, because you won't10it."

    Clearly dad wasn't the11Asian tiger parent, pressuring me to work tirelessly for the best12, and neither was my mom. They didn't want to push. They wanted me to be13and healthy. Dad's14of a "failing grade" gift amazingly15my worries and pressure. What's more, I16getting A's and B's throughout high school, but without the added stress and fear of failing. I think it was my parents' lack of stress on grades that gave me17to encourage my own desire for achievements.

    I now realize I was18when I thought I didn't receive a present from my dad that day. He gave me two invaluable19the space to develop my own desire for excellence, and the healthy mind to20it.

The sandwich man

    Michael rises every morning at 4:00, in good and bad weather, and walks into his sandwich shop. By 5:50, he's making the rounds of the shelters on Centre Streets. He 1 out 200 sandwiches to the homeless, before beginning his workday.

    It started 20 years ago when Michael came across a homeless man named John. He began to help him 2 effort then. Day after day, he brought John some food and, when it was really 3, a resting place in his car while he worked. Once he asked John if he wanted to get cleaned up. It was a(n) 4 offer, because Michael thought John would refuse. 5, John said, "Are you going to wash me?" Michael knew that he was looking at a 6 of his promise. It was at the moment that Michael 7 to help the homeless.

    Michael began his work. He received no sponsorship, saying, "I'm not getting media 8. I just want to do some good in my way. There are days when it's snowing, and I have a hard time leaving my warm bed and the 9 of my family to go downtown with sandwiches. But I've 10."

    Michael makes 200 sandwiches every day for the past 20 years. "I don't simply 11 the sandwiches on a table for the homeless to pick up. I shake their hands and 12 them a good day " says Michael. Once Mayor (市长) Koch came to make the rounds with him. They 13 the media, and it seemed like it was just the two of them. But of all Michael's 14, working side by side with the Mayor was not as important as working next to someone else…

    A man had 15 from the sandwich takers, and Michael thought about him from time to time. He hoped the man had moved on to a more 16 environment. One day, the man came back, greeting Michael and 17 sandwiches of his own to hand out. He said Michael's daily food, warm handshakes and wishes had given him the 18 he badly needed. After achieving some success, he decided to do the same thing as Michael.

    The moment needed no 19. The two men worked silently, side by side, handing out their sandwiches. It was another day on Centre Streets, but a day with just a little more 20.

    Anna Douglas was 72 years old when she started writing her newspaper column. She had been a school teacher before she retired (退休), but she needed to keep 1. She was even willing to work without pay. She then offered her 2 with a business that helped other businesses find jobs for old people. Every day she 3 other old folks like her. By talking with them, she 4 two things. Old people had abilities that were not 5. But old people also had some 6. She found a new purpose for herself then.

    Through the years, she 7 to write stories about people for national magazines. There was now a new 8: Old people like herself. She began to write a newspaper column called "Sixty Plus", which was about 9 old. She wrote about the problems of old people, especially their problems with being 10.

    Anna Douglas used her 11 ability to see the truth behind a problem. She understood 12 problems began. For example, one of her 13 said that his grandchildren 14 the houses as soon as he came to visit. Mrs Douglas 15 some ways for him to understand his grandchildren.

    "It's important to know 16 about your grandchildren's world," said Mrs Douglas. "That means questioning and listening, and 17 is not what old people do best. Say good things to them and about them," she continued. "Never try to 18 your grandchildren or other young people. Never 19 your opinion. Don't tell them what they should do. 20, they have been taught they should have respect for old people. The old should respect them as well."

    Clara Daly was seated on an Alaska Airlines flight when a flight attendant asked a(n)1question over the loudspeaker, "Does anyone on board know American Sign Language?"

    Clara, 15 at the time,2the call button. The flight attendant came by and 3the situation. "We have a passenger on the plane who's4and deaf." she said. The passenger seemed to want something, but he couldn't5his message.

    Clara6to have been studying ASL for the past year and knew she'd be able to finger spell into the man's palm. So she7her seat belt and walked toward the seat of Tim Cook, then 64.8taking his hand, she9, "Are you OK?" Cook asked for some water.

    When it arrived, Clara returned to her seat. She came by again a bit later because he wanted to know the time. On her third10, she stopped and stayed a while.

    "He didn't need anything. He was lonely and wanted to11." Clara says.

    So for the next hour, that's what they did. She talked about her plans for the future. Cook told Clara12he had gradually become blind over time and13stories of his days as a traveling salesman. Even though he couldn't see her, she "looked14at his face with such kindness," a passenger reported, "We can see she smiled with happiness,15she made a difference in someone's life."

    "Clara was amazing." a flight attendant told Alaska Airlines in a blog interview. "You could tell Tim was very16to have someone he could speak to, and she was such a(n)17."

    Cook's18, "Best trip I've ever had."

    Life is a continuous learning experience. As for Clara, she said, "I've also learned a lot. The best thing for19is to learn something. Learning is the only thing that never20.