Human growth is a process of experimentation, trial, and error eventually leading to wisdom. Each time you choose to trust yourself and take action, you can never quite be certain how the situation will 1 

        Sometimes you are victorious, and sometimes you become disappointed. The 2  experiments, however, are no less valuable than the experiments that finally prove successful; in fact, you

3 learn more from your "failures" than you do from your 4   If you have made what you think to be a mistake or failed to live up to your own  5   you will most likely put up a barrier between your essence and the part of you that is the alleged (F 7/ßfi^kJ) wrong-doer.

         However, viewing past actions as  6  implies guilt and blame, and it is not possible to learn anything meaning while you are engaged in blaming.  7  forgiveness is required when you are severely judging yourself. Forgiveness is the act of erasing an  8 debt. There are four kinds of forgiveness.

        The first is beginner forgiveness for yourself.

        The second of forgiveness is beginner forgiveness for another.

        The third kind of forgiveness is 9  forgiveness of yourself. This is for serious misbehaviors, the ones you carry with deep  10    When you do something that violates your own values and principles, you create a gap between your standards and your actual  11 

        In such a case, you need to work very hard at  12  yourself for these deeds so that you can close this gap. This does not  13 that you should rush to forgive yourself or shouldn't feel regret,    14  taking pleasure in these feelings for a prolonged period of time is not healthy.

The 15   and perhaps most difficult one is the advanced forgiveness of another.

        At some time of our life, you may have been severely wronged or hurt by another person to such a degree that forgiveness seems 16 .However, harboring anger and revenge fantasies only keeps you  17  in victimhood. Under such a circumstance, you should force yourself to see the bigger picture. By so doing, you will be able to  18  the focus away from the anger and resentment.

        It is only through forgiveness that you can erase wrongdoing and  19  the memory. When you can  20 release the situation, you may come to see it as a necessary part of your growth.

    Zigfried, a little mouse, blew his breath on the frosty window of the farmhouse and rubbed it to see the outside. Still nobody came. Maybe today, he thought 1. It was only a few days before Christmas and he was watching for a miracle (奇迹).

    This farmhouse had been 2 too long. It needed a family. Zigfried's 3 made a noise. He realized that he hadn't eaten anything since yesterday. He jumped from the windowsill (窗沿), grabbed a 4 from his home, and went next door to Farmer Mike's.

    Farmer Mike's house had been a great place for the little mouse 5 the farmer married a wife who had a cat. Zigfried 6 when he thought of it. He looked around cautiously as he 7 into the room where grain was stored and was quite 8 as he filled his bag with wheat. He was turning to leave when suddenly he 9 a hot breath about his ear. His heart beat  10 , and without thinking he started to run and luckily 11 the cat's paws (爪子).

    The next afternoon Zigfried heard some good news: a 12 family would be moving into the farmhouse soon. Zigfried's granny would arrive on Christmas Eve to 13 with him. He hoped that the family would come before his granny came. Before long, a car came 14 the road leading to the house, with butter sandwiches, cheese and chocolate.

    Zigfried's Christmas miracle did arrive!

    The house came 15 the next few days. Zigfried 16 every single hour of them. 17, the day before Christmas when he was drinking hot chocolate with a 18 smile at the door of his home, he heard the 19of the children of the family about what they might get for Christmas. What? A cat? The 20 froze on his face； his mouth fell wide open. After a long while, he at last found his voice: “Hey! Whose Christmas miracle is this?”

    I remember believing in Santa when I was a very young girl. However, as I grew older, I learned many 1 that “proved” his nonexistence. Always2by nature, I was determined to use 3to decide whether Santa Claus was 4.

    The first test5when I was 5, I decided that if I6all night on Christmas Eve, I could see if Santa really came down the chimney7 that was a useless8 I fell asleep that year, and when I woke up, I saw a 9 wrapped present under the10

    At the age of 7, I came up with another test to see if Santa was real. That year, I didn't send out my Christmas letter to Santa because I wanted 11for Christmas. But this turned into a plot. By then, I 12knew Santa wasn't real, but I wanted enough13to support this. That year was 14. Because on Christmas Eve, my mother dragged me to our local Wal-Mart led me around the toy section. I 15 to say a word, but did let my eyes16on a ballet set. I17that “Santa” wouldn't know what I wanted because he shouldn't be able to read my 18However, my mother would know everything that caught my eyes in the store. If I got the ballet set the next morning, I would have my evidence. On Christmas morning, there was the ballet set, sitting under the tree again.19I didn't use it much, my mother ended up returning it a few days later. She20 Santa was generous enough to leave a receipt. That was the end to my task to discover the existence of Santa.

    My father was a self-taught mandolin player. He was one of the best string instrument players in our town. He could not1 music, but if he heard a tune a few times, he could play it. I loved to sing, but I never learned how to 2 the mandolin. This is something I 3 to this day.

    Dad loved to play the mandolin for his 4 as he knew we enjoyed singing, and hearing him play. He was always there,5his time and efforts to see that his family had enough in their life. I had to mature into a man and have children of my own 6 I realized how much he had sacrificed.7played the mandolin like my father. He could8your soul with the tones. He seemed to shine when he was playing. You could see his9 in his ability to play so well for his family.

    One day, he was involved in an 10.On this particular day, Dad got the first finger of his left hand 11 by the machine. The doctor who operated on the finger could not 12 it, which did affect his 13 to play the mandolin.

    After the accident, Dad felt that he could not play 14.When I came home and asked him to play, he would make15 for why he couldn't play.

In August of 1993 my father was diagnosed with16lung cancer. About a week before his death, we asked Dad if he would play the mandolin for us. He said17.He knew it would probably be the last time he could play for us. When I looked around, there was not a18eye in the family. We saw before us a quiet man with an inner19 Dad was always doing something he had done all his life20.

    My family and I were on our way to Pennsylvania and it was the middle of a snowstorm. We were almost there when we got stuck in a 1 traffic jam. Cars stretched (延伸)ahead of us and behind us as 2 as we could see. We sat in the same 3 without moving for seven hours. We 4periodically to see if the5 ahead of us were moving, which they had never been6there was a large 18-wheeler truck in front of us, my mom had to 7 the door to see around the 18-wheeler to get a 8 of the traffic jam in front of us. All we could do was sit and 9.At no time did any of us fall asleep or stop10 attention, because we were always checking up on the traffic. We sat for hours and heard11 about the cause of the traffic jam from the12and the only person we talked to was a truck driver13 us, who didn't know anything about it either.14after seven hours, the truck in front of us began moving slowly and we were happy to get moving, but when we15in front of the truck, there were absolutely NO cars to be seen, and NONE behind us16 one 18-wheeler. The only other vehicle besides those was the one of the trucker that had been next to us the 17 time. There were no signs of a traffic jam the entire 18 of our trip. It was as though the cars had all 19To this day we have no 20 as to how this could have happened.

    It was our first Thanksgiving in the new house and I wanted everything to be perfect. But my plan for everyone to do some preparation work had been1by my husband's business trip. Even worse, a project for me that week had2two days of planned vacation. By Wednesday, my task of a table with fresh flowers,3drinking glasses and various homemade desserts had already4, I just hoped that I'd find a clean tablecloth and eight5forks.

    In my perfect Thanksgiving, there wouldn't be any orange in my salad because It hadn't made the grocery list. There would be no perfect family photos to record that day because I hadn't got the broken camera6. Someone had brought home the wrong toilet paper, which was the last straw that made me7.

    I don't remember what my son asked me as he was doing some cleaning,8I do remember twisting into that mean-and-tight mom-face before making an9. This combination of noise and anger is a universal signal to kids everywhere that they might as well10me. But he didn't.

    Instead of disappearing from view, my second-grader turned11the cleaning machine and walked across the room to12me. He never said a word. He just13his arms around me, making me feel14of myself until today.

It turned out a(n)15Thanksgiving. The people I loved gathered around my table and dined just one choice of the pie. My dad used a mismatched fork without16. My daughter drew a picture of us where everyone smiled.

    My son took a(n)17to teach me that sometimes we need a hug most when we are18huggable. This is the best gift you can give: One size19all and no one ever minds if you20.