My senior year of high school was very busy. If I wasn't studying or worrying about1, I was taking part in many activities after class or attempting to make my plans for2.

    As the senior year began to slow down, I got a3job working at a local coffee shop. I had expected that the job would be 4, but there are5 when I was angry at the human race as a whole, simply because I couldn't seem to 6anyone. There was always too much sugar, too little ice, or not enough milk. However, I7 working at this coffee shop.

    One day, one of my 8 customers came in, looking depressed and defeated. I asked what the 9 was and if I could help, but the customer wouldn't say any details. He just said that he felt like lying on the bed, 10 the sheets up over his head, and staying there for a few years. I knew exactly11 he felt. Before he left, I handed him a bag with his coffee. He looked at me 12 because he hadn't ordered anything but the coffee. He opened the bag and saw that I had given him his favorite cookies. “It's on me.” I told him.

    The next day that customer came again. 13ordering anything, he 14 me a pink rose and a thank-you note saying that not too many people took the time to care about15 and that he was 16 there were still people like me in the world.

    As time went on, I came across many 17customers. But anytime I felt 18, I thought of that little 19. Then I would smile, hold my head up high, clear my20 and ask politely, “How can I help you?”

    While my father was an officer of the British army in South Africa, we lived in a two-storeyed house. One evening my father and sister and I were sitting together. He was 1 the window. I suddenly 2 that he was turning very pale. I sat 3 for I didn't want to 4 my sick sister. Soon father said in a 5voice, “Kate and Joan, a friend of mine 6 here to see me this evening, and I wish to be 7 him. Will you go up to your own room?” We obeyed, went to our room and closed the door.

    Soon I heard a8 like that of a door burst in, and then a climb of feet. They were hurrying 9 the narrow stairs. Fearing that there was10 near, I seized the pistol (手枪) on the table. Then I heard my father cry out, “For God's sake, child,11 the door.” I did so. To my scare, I saw,12 my father's shoulder; a gorilla (大猩猩), the worst enemy of the soldier in Europe, he was 13 my father. I raised the pistol and fired. The animal fell backwards with an/a 14 loud cry. Father took the still 15 pistol from my hand, and fired another shot, which killed the gorilla.

    It happened when father 16 us upstairs because he thought he would be able to 17the door-which was twenty feet away 18 the animal reached it. However, the gorilla was too 19and this was the cause of the 20 flight (escape) up the stairs.

    In my living room, there is a plaque(匾) that advises me to “Bloom(开花) where you are planted.” It1me of Dorothy. I got to know Dorothy in the early 1980s，when I was teaching Early Childhood Development through a program with Union College in Barbourville, Kentucky. The job responsibilities required occasional visits to the2of each teacher in the program. Dorothy 3 in my memory as one who “bloomed” in her remote area.

    Dorothy taught in a school in Harlan County, Kentucky, Appalachian Mountain area. To get to her school from the town of Harlan, I followed a road 4around the mountain. In the eight-mile journey, I crossed the same railroad track five times, giving the possibility of getting5by the same train five times. Rather than feeling6by this drive through the mountains, I found it depressing. The7level was shocking and the small shabby houses gave me the greatest feeling of 8.

    From the moment of my arrival at the little school, all gloom(忧郁)9. Upon arriving at Dorothy's classroom, I was 10 with smiling faces and treated like a queen. The children had been prepared to show me their latest projects. Dorothy told me with a big smile that they were11poke greens salad and cornbread for “dinner” (lunch). In case you don't 12 , poke greens are a weed type plant that grows wild, especially on poor ground.

    Dorothy never13reports of exciting activities of her students. Her 14 never cooled down. When it came time to15for the testing and interviewing required to receive her Child Development Associate Certification, Dorothy was16. She came to the assessment(评价) and17in all areas. Afterward, she18me to the one-and-only steak house in the area to19her victory, as if she had received her Ph.D. degree. After the meal, she placed a little box containing an old pen in my hand. She said it was a family heirloom (传家宝), but to me it is a treasured symbol of appreciation and pride that cannot be 20 with things.

    My mother was a nurse and often took me along to visit the families she was caring for. Among them was a woman who had a 1 disease and was always lying on the bed.

    One afternoon, my mom told me that we needed to 2 the woman at her home to 3 treatment, and we would stop at a store 4 I thought we would stop at a5store, but we pulled up to a6 My mom headed to the make-up7and bought the most expensive bottle of8they offered. She also bought a 9nightdress. When I asked my mom who these things were for, she said they were for her patient. My mom 10explained that although this woman was older and unable to11her bed,  she was still a lady, and she 12dignity and beauty. She 13 to me that when we care for someone, we 14the disability or the illness and we look into the15 of the human so we can connect with them with sympathy. I 16 realized that my mother's 17strengths were caring for the very young and the very old, those who can not 18for themselves and need trustworthy care providers. I knew in 9th grade I would become a 19.

    Today, I work as a clinical psychologist, and I'm: not 20 that I find my practice filled with patients who are very young and very old.

    The stage lights dimmed, and I took a quick look from behind the heavy black curtains into the audience. Blinded by the lights, I quickly1. It seems that a great number of eyes were looking at me. I took a deep2as the music of my dance began to play. I entered the stage and began my3, the graduation test of the classical Indian dance.

    After a decade of learning this art form, I had4been considered ready to take on the most difficult act. The test is the most important event in a dancer's life as it pays5to all the factors in one's life that6the dance form: one's culture and family.

    The performance is undertaken only by the most7and determined students. It is a difficult process that requires much8. For more than six months, I spent two to three hours every day9these dances. Many times, I 10myself to my physical and mental breaking point, but still I would not stop. I could not give up. There was always so much more to do and so much more to 11.

    I12a lot about myself in those tiring hours. I learned that I was far too 13to give up, and I was too proud to prove myself 14after I had set an unrealistic goal. Even with physical pain and mental15, I forced myself to meet my 16. Even when I was at the end of my17, there was always something driving me on, forcing me not to give up.

    Fortunately, I made it. What I had done18the success. It was in those hours that I learned what a dancer19is. Those time was evidence that I could20something I set out to do.

I was ready for bed. My eyes fell on the musical 1 on my bedside table. In it was a photo of Dad smiling, and once opened, it would play his 2 song recorded before his death. It was propped(支，撑)open just enough so the recording wouldn't play.

Dad was a 3 man. He was always singing me his little made-up songs to share joy although he was 4 off-key, not hitting every note.

Dad was a man with big heart. When my house burned down a few years ago, Dad 5 my family into his home. When we tried to offer some 6, he said with his characteristic voice, "Don't be 7!"

With happy 8, I fell asleep.

"Beautiful and marvelous-!"

Suddenly, was awoken hours later by the 9 song. The card! I snapped it shut(啪的一声合上).

How did that card just start playing? I checked the windows, all tightly shut. But why couldn't I 10 the feeling that something was wrong?

I decided to 11 downstairs. Opening the door to the laundry room, I was hit with a strong smell of 12. The heat lamp had fallen, and the carpet was burning.

The 13 wasn't too bad. I let out a shaky breath with 14. What could have happened? Perhaps another house fire. . . But we were safe. All thanks to Dad's one-of-a-kind 15.