I used to believe in the American Dream, which meant a job, a mortgage (按揭), credit cards, success. I wanted it and worked toward it like everyone else, all of us 1 chasing the same thing.

    One year, through a series of unhappy events, it all fell 2. I found myself homeless and alone. I had my truck and $ 56. I 3 the countryside for some place I could rent for the 4 possible amount. I came upon a shabby house four miles up a winding mountain road 5 the Potomac River in West Virginia. It was 6, full of broken glass and rubbish. I found the owner, rented it, and 7 a corner to camp in.

    The locals knew nothing about me, 8 slowly, they started teaching me the 9 of being a neighbor. They dropped off blankets, candles, and tools, and began 10 around to chat. They started to teach me a belief in a 11 American Dream—not the one of individual achievement but of 12.

What I had believed in, all those things I thought were 13 for a civilized life, were nonexistent in this place. 14 on the mountain, my most valuable possessions were my 15 with my neighbors.

    Four years later, I moved back into 16. I saw many people were having a really hard time, 17 their jobs and homes. I managed to rent a big enough house to 18 a handful of people. There are four of us now in the house, but over time I've had nine people come in and move on to other places. We'd all be in 19 if we hadn't banded together.

    The American Dream I believe in now is a shared one. It's not so much about what I can get for myself; it's about 20 we can all get by together.