Last year I went to America and stayed there with an American family for two months.

    As is said, “The best house is in America, the best wife is in Japan, and the best food is in China.” So I 1 pride and pleasure to 2 “the best food” for my American family. Each day, regardless of my poor skill of cooking, I would do something in a 3 way: changing the dishes color, the meat's type or the soup's style. Thus, my American friends could discover the 4 of eating Chinese food. Because of my “5” job, I was often rewarded by their 6 of thanks such as “very delicious”, “excellent”, etc.

    7 something funny happened yesterday when I cooked Sichuan style fish for dinner. I was 8 with my work.

    When the whole family sat round the table, they first looked 9 at the fish, then looked at me. “Why do all the fish have their 10？” they asked，“It's terrible!”

    11 or terrible？I can't understand. But I do know that fish heads are delicious. The head is the 12 part of fish; in 13 only the important guest can have the 14 of enjoying it.

    Another 15 thing is: the American friends often said to me“16 ”as they 17 home fruits or other things. According to Chinese tradition I would simply smile in answer to their kindness 18 actually helping myself to any of the food. 19, I said “help yourself” to them whenever I brought home fruits. Dear me! No matter how much or how often I brought home food, as long as it was nice to their taste, they 20 hesitated (犹豫)to use their hands to “help themselves” until all was finished.

    At the age of 14, Harvey Bay teenager Mark Farrell took a dive into a swimming pool that would 1 his life forever.

    “I jumped into the pool and broke my 2,” he says. It's a very 3 story because I jumped into the deep end, not the shallow end where most spinal (脊柱的)4 occur.”

    Mark has been in a wheelchair ever since and now, at 27, is very matter of fact about any 5 life might throw at him. In fact, he finds it 6 to name any challenge at all. “I just live my life and 7 it day by day,” he says.

    For the past few years, Mark has 8 with the Spinal Education Awareness Team (SEAT), telling his 9to young people in the Harvey Bay region. He also works as a whale 10, taking photos for various publications and calendars. “If I can 11 one kid's life, it makes every single 12I do worthwhile,” he says.

    The aim of the SEAT program is to 13 students to prevent spinal injuries and help them to 14 understand the challenges and feeling of the people who 15 with a spinal injury.

    Mark discusses the importance of checking the 16 of water before diving in and being more 17 in general. He has told thousands of school students his story over the years and says that if his 18 can prevent one spinal injury in a young person, he's 19. Mark's contribution to preventing spinal injuries was 20 in 2017, when he was named Young Australian of the Year.

    A humpback whale is struggling hard in the sea. The humpbacks can weigh 40 tons and stretch 50 feel from nose to tail. That's the kind of 1 and size that easily overturn small boats. To jump onto the 2 of one of these giants is 3 to result in a disaster. But that's just what Sam Synslelien did when he saw a humpback 4 caught in a rope that was 5 to a buoy (浮标) in Central Californians Morro Bay this week.

    Sam, along with crewmate Nicholas Taron, had already tried 6 the unfortunate whale to the U.S. Coast Guard 一 but they were told it would be hours before 7 could be sent. 8, the commercial fishermen 9 this whale didn't have. If the whale was to 10 they had to go get it. There was no other 11 for the whale. They decided to go for it, totally 12 the fear. Turon's 13 in the rescue was mostly in the 14 cheering department. In the clip, you can hear him directing the operation from the side of the boat while filming the entire 15.

    "Swim! Swim!" He yells, "Move! Just get it! Get it!"

    The anxious whale was just swimming in counter-clockwise circles, 16 and being held to the bottom. It threw its heavy tail against the boat. But Sam 17 it and jumped onto the whale's back to save its life. He managed to hang in there, 18 cutting through the rope that 19 the creature. And then with a whoosh (击水声), it dove deep down beneath the great 20. It wasn't much of a thank you, but Synstelien and Taron were left with a whale of a tale.

    I come from one of those families where you have to yell at the dinner table to get in a word. Everyone has a strong 1, and talks at the same time, and no one has a 2 leading to heated arguments. We often talk or even debate with each other on different topics. 3 a family like mine has made me more 4 about the world around me, making me tend to question anything anyone tells me. But it has also made me realize that I'm not a good listener. And when I say "listening", I'm not 5 to the nodding-your-head-and-6-answering-Uh-huh-or-Ooh-I-see variety. I mean the kind of listening where you find yourself deeply 7 with the person you're speaking with, when his story becomes so 8 that your world becomes less about you and more about him. No, I was never very good at that.

    I spent summer in South Africa two years ago. I worked for a good non-profit 9 called Noah, which works 10 on behalf of children affected by AIDS. But 11 you asked me what I really did in South Africa, I'd tell you one thing: I listened, and I listened. Sometimes I 12, but mostly listened.

    And had I not spent two months 13, I might have missed the 14 moment when a quiet little girl at one of Noah's community centers, orphaned（孤儿）at the age of three, whispered after a long 15, "I love you."

    16 that summer, I knew how to hear. I could sit down with anyone and hear their 17 and nod and respond at the 18 time­but most of the time I was 19 about the next words out of my own mouth. Ever since my summer in South Africa, I have noticed that it's in those moments when my mouth is closed and my 20 is wide open that I've learned the most about other people, and perhaps about myself.

At thirteen, I was diagnosed (诊断) with a kind of attention disorder. It made school difficult for me. When everyone else in the class was focusing on tasks, I could not.

    In my first literature class, Mrs Smith asked us to read a story and then write on it, all within 45 minutes. I raised my hand right away and said, "Mrs Smith, you see, the doctor said I have attention problems. I might not be able to do it."

 She glanced at me through her glasses, "You are not different from your classmates, young man."

 I tried, but I didn't finish the reading when the bell rang. I had to take it home.

    In the quietness of my bedroom, the story suddenly all became clear to me. It was about a blind person, Louis Braille. He lived in a time when the blind couldn't get much education. But Louis didn't give up. Instead, he invented a reading system of raised dots (点), which opened up a whole new world of knowledge to the blind.

    Wasn't I the "blind" in my class, being made to learn like the "sighted" students? My thoughts spilled out (涌出) and my pen started to dance. I completed the task within 40 minutes. Indeed, I was not different from others; I just needed a quieter place. If Louis could find his way to solve his problems, why should I ever give up?

    I didn't expect anything when I handed in my paper to Mrs Smith, so it was quite a surprise when it came back to me the next day—with an "A" on it. At the bottom of the paper were these words: "See what you can do when you keep trying?"