完形填空
When
I was in the seventh grade, I volunteered about thirty to forty hours a week
during the summer at a local hospital in my town. Most of the time I spent
there was with Mr. Gillespie. He never had any1,
and nobody seemed to care about his condition. I spent many days there holding his hand and talking to him,
helping with anything that needed to be done. He became a close friend of mine,
even though he replied to me with only a very 2moving
of his fingers. Mr. Gillespie was still in a coma(昏迷).
I
left for a week to vacation with my parents, and when I 3 back, Mr. Gillespie had gone. I didn't have
the courage to ask any of the nurses where he was, for fear they might tell me
he had died.
Several
years passed. One day, when I was at the gas station, I noticed a familiar
face. When I realized who it was, my eyes filled with 4.
He was alive! I asked him if his name was Mr. Gillespie, and if he had been in
a coma about five years ago. With a(an) 5 look on his face, he replied, "Yes".
I explained how I knew him, and that I had spent many hours talking with him in
the hospital. With tears in his eyes, he gave me the warmest hug (拥抱)I had ever 6.
He
began to tell me how, as he lay there in a coma, he could 7 me talking to him and could feel me holding
his hand the whole time. He thought it was an angel, not a person, who was
there with him. Mr. Gillespie firmly 8 that it was my voice and touch that had kept
him alive.
Then
he told me what happened to him to put him in the coma. We both cried for a
while and exchanged a hug, said good-bye and went our separate 9ways.
Although
I haven't seen him since then, he fills my heart with joy every day. I know
that I made a difference between his life and his death. More 10,
I will never forget him and what he did for me: he made me an angel.
