A letter to Mum and her mince (肉末) pies

    When I was a little girl, you and I loved decorating the living room and Christmas tree. After 1, we would bake cakes. “Make enough mince pies, because Santa likes them,” you would tell me.

    Christmas Eve came and you would put me on my 2 made bed. I'd fall asleep until Christmas 3. I'd wake up and thrill at the 4 before me. At the bottom of my bed would be loads of presents. I'd scream in delight, 5 tearing the paper open. Running downstairs, I would 6 that Santa hadn't just stopped in the 7 : there were also lots of 8 around the Christmas tree.

    Many years later, the 9 continued. The only thing that 10 was the presents at the end of the bed – I grew out of them.

    One afternoon while we were 11 extra mince pies as usual, it 12 hit me that the extra wasn't for 13. I said, “Those extra mince pies were never for Santa, were they? They were for you!” You never said a word – a smile was your only 14.

    Christmas changed in 1986, when you suffered a 15 brain disease. After 16 throughout Christmas, you passed away on the 29 December.

    Only now am I starting to enjoy Christmas again, and while I don't do the 17 any more, I do have mince pies in the house. I leave one out just for you, as if you were 18 a part of my Christmas. And I make sure I put up the decorations 19 you, and us. Thanks for the 20 memories of Christmas, Mum.

    At my heaviest I weighed 370 pounds. I had a very poor relationship with food: I used it to 1 bad feelings, to make myself feel better, and to celebrate. Worried about my health, I tried many different kinds of  2 but nothing worked. I came to believe that I could do nothing about my 3.

    When I was 50, my weight problem began to affect me 4 . I didn't want to live the rest of my life with this 5 weight any more.

    That year, I6 a seminar where we were asked to create a project that would touch the world. A seminar leader shared her 7 story —she had not only 125 pounds, but also raised $25,000 for homeless children.

    8 by her story, I created the As We Heal(痊愈), the World Heals 9. My goal was to lose 150 pounds in one year and raise $50,00010 a movement founded 30 years ago to end hunger. This combination of healing myself and healing the world  11 me as the perfect solution.

    12I began my own personal weight program, I was filled with the fear that I would 13 the same difficulties that beat me before. While the 14 hung over my head, there were also signs that I was headed down the right 15. I sent letters to everyone I knew, telling them about my project. It worked perfectly. Donations began 16in from hundreds of people.

    Of course, I also took some practical steps to lose weight. I consulted with a physician(内科医生), I hired a fitness coach, and I began to eat small and 17 meals. My fund-raising focus also gave me new motivation to exercise 18.

    A year later, I19 my goal: I lost 150 pounds and raised $50,000! I feel that I've been given a second life to devote to something that is 20 and enormous.

    In the summer before I entered middle school, I read the book They Cage the Animals at Night. It's a story about Jennings, a boy living in various orphanages (孤儿院) with only his stuffed animal (毛绒玩具), Doggie, for companionship. It's a fascinating book, but little did I know how it would 1 my life and the lives of others.

    One day, as I looked across my room at the pile of stuffed animals, a(n) 2 came to me. I would 3 stuffed animals for children like Jennings. 4, I contacted agencies that support those children and they said the stuffed animals would certainly 5 children's spirits.

    I named my project "Cuddle Buddies". I wrote articles for the local and school newspapers, 6 donations of the "buddies"—stuffed animals. My phone 7 ringing; schools, families, and toy factories all wanted to help. Much to my 8, by the second week my living room looked like a zoo. Whenever Mom and I 9 the "buddies" to the agencies, the kids would be waiting there with their eyes down, too 10 to look but shaking with excitement.

    Six years after its launch, Cuddle Buddies continues to 11. Now over 25, 000 stuffed animals have been 12 to agencies worldwide. Simon, a seven-year-old boy in an African Children's Home, couldn't sleep at night after he lost his parents. When asked to choose his "buddies", Simon 13 a panda and soon after was sleeping through the night. I never dreamed Cuddle Buddies would 14 this way.

    Upon graduation from high school, I designed a website, www. cuddlebuddies. net, to 15 the project. The response was 16. More and more people joined me and two dozen Cuddle Buddies 17 were established across the nation.

    This has been a great experience. I've learned how to follow through on an idea and how to18 impact a life. I will go to college with these 19 in mind and continue my work with Cuddle Buddies, even when I 20 a whole new set of exciting academic and nonacademic pursuits.

    It was the last day of the final examination in a large eastern university. On the steps of one building, a group of engineering seniors gathered, discussing the exam due to begin in a few 1. On their faces was confidence. This was their last exam before they went on to 2and jobs.

    Some talked of jobs they already had; others talked of jobs they 3get. With all this assurance(确信，自信） of four years of college, they felt ready and able to take 4of the world.

    The approaching exam, they knew, would be a(n) 5task, because the professor had said they could bring 6books or notes they wanted, requesting only that they did not 7each other during the test.

    After they entered the classroom8, the professor passed out the papers. And smiles9on the students' faces as they noted there were only five essay-type questions.

    Three hours had passed 10the professor began to collect the papers. The students no longer looked confident. On their faces was a frightened expression. Papers in hand, no one spoke as the professor faced the class.

    He looked at the11 faces before him, and then asked, "How many completed all five questions?"12a hand was raised.

    "How many answered four?" Still no hands.

    "Three? Two?" The students moved restlessly(不安地) in their seats.

    "One, then? Certainly somebody finished 13."But the class remained silent.

    The professor put down the papers. "That is exactly what I 14," he said. "I just want to impress upon you that, 15you have completed four years of engineering, there are still many things about the 16you don't know. These questions you couldn't answer are relatively 17 in everyday practice." Then smiling, he added, "You will all 18this course, but remember — even if you are now college graduates, your education has just 19."

    The years have 20the name of this professor, but not the lesson he taught.

    When I was 13 years old, I stopped speaking. I'm still not exactly sure 1. I think I felt that words got me into trouble. The boys in my class were always 2 me, telling me to shut up. One day, I 3 into uncontrollable sobs behind the sports hall.

    So throughout my 4, I was silent dealing with the wider world only in whispers and shrugs. My isolation(孤立）led to indescribable 5 that nothing could relieve. I couldn't 6 or socialize. Then, at 15, a psychologist saw 7 in me She said I was in intelligent but 8, and needed to change schools for a fresh start.

    My parents sent me to a different comprehensive. I knew no one and I had the chance to 9 myself. Cheered by the psychologist's 10 in me, I worked hard and became a swot(刻苦学习的人). As a result, my parents were 11. Finally at 20, I was referred to a psychiatrist and he diagnosed me with a mild form of autism(自闭症). It was such a(n) 12 to know what was happening that I cried on the bus on the way home.

    It took a further five years to 13 again, a decision that was as much a surprise to me as it was to everyone else. I 14 myself hard, becoming more confident. Gradually, I 15 my speech. I definitely get more than usual pleasure from the use of 16. It's still such a fresh experience for me 17 different words—ones that can sound so complex, and carry so much 18.

    When I think of what I have 19, I feel like crying, but I don't 20it up anymore. Instead, I enjoy talking about it.

    When I was 13 my only purpose was to become the star on our football team. That meant 1 Miller King, who was the best 2 at our school.

    Football season started in September and all summer long I worked out. I carried my football everywhere for 3.

    Just before September, Miller was struck by a car and lost his right arm. I went to see him after he came back from 4. He looked very 5, but he didn't cry.

    That season, I 6 all of Miller's records while he 7 the home games from the bench. We went 10-1 and I was named most valuable player,8 I often had crazy dreams in which I was to blame for Miller's 9.

    One afternoon, I was crossing the field to go home and saw Miller 10 going over a fence—which wasn't 11 to climb if you had both arms. I'm sure I was the last person in the world he wanted to accept 12 from. But even that challenge he accepted. I 13 him move slowly over the fence. When we were finally 14 on the other side, he said to me, "You know, I didn't tell you this during the season, but you did 15 .Thank you for filling in for 16."

    His words freed me from my bad 17. I thought to myself, how even without an arm he was more of a leader. Damaged but not defeated, he was 18 ahead of me. I was right to have 19 him. From that day on, I grew 20 and a little more real.