Joseph is a teacher in New York. He gives lessons to {#blank#}1{#/blank#} (he) students about American history. But he was born {#blank#}2{#/blank#} Kenya, an African country where the children lead a very different life. For example, a ten-year-old boy may spend {#blank#}3{#/blank#} (much)time in taking care of cows than studying at school. The children also learn many {#blank#}4{#/blank#}(skill) like how to live in the wild.

    Unlike many other children, Joseph went to school. And {#blank#}5{#/blank#} (lucky), when he was 15, he came {#blank#}6{#/blank#} (study) in America and then became a teacher. Joseph has written {#blank#}7{#/blank#} book called Facing the Lion. In the book, he talks about his childhood. He thinks {#blank#}8{#/blank#} is very important for American children to learn about the cultural differences between their country {#blank#}9{#/blank#} the others. He also thinks children should learn to be strong and full of hope. Now Joseph {#blank#}10{#/blank#} (do)a project, hoping that it will help children face their own" lions".

    Night after night, she came to help me sleep, even long after my childhood years.

    I don't remember {#blank#}1{#/blank#} it first started making me a little angry- my mom's hands pushing my hair that way. But it really made me {#blank#}2{#/blank#} ( comfortable), for they felt rough (粗糙的) against my young skin. {#blank#}3{#/blank#} (final), one night, I shouted at her, "Don't do that anymore. Your hands are too rough!" She didn't say anything, {#blank#}4{#/blank#} she never did it again.

    Years later, I missed my mother's hands and her goodnight kiss on my face. I'm not a little girl any more. My mom is {#blank#}5{#/blank#} her mid-seventies，and her rough hands are still doing things for my family and me.

    Now my own children have grown up. It was late on Thanksgiving Eve. As I slept in my bedroom, a familiar hand ran across {#blank#}6{#/blank#} (I) face to push the hair from my head. Then a kiss, ever so {#blank#}7{#/blank#}(soft), touched my brow(额头).

    {#blank#}8{#/blank#} (take) my mom's hand, I told her how sorry I was for the night I shouted at her. But my mom didn't know what I was talking about. She had forgotten it long ago.

    That night, I fell {#blank#}9{#/blank#} (sleep) with the new appreciation(感激) for my mother's caring hands. And {#blank#}10{#/blank#} guilt(内疚) that I had carried around for so long was nowhere to be found.