A young painter just completed his course from his teacher. The painter decided to check his own 1, so he put his best painting at a busy crossroad. And just down below a board read. “Gentlemen, I've painted this piece. Since I'm2 to painting, please put a cross (叉) wherever you see a 3 in my painting.”

    4 he came back in the evening to collect it, he was shocked. The whole painting was filled with 5. The young painter ran to his teacher's place and burst into tears. He 6 told his teacher about what had 7 and showed him the painting. This young painter cried. “I'm 8 and I could not become a painter at all. I fed like 9.”

    His teacher smiled and suggested, “I'll prove that you are a great 10.” The young painter couldn't believe it and said, “I've lost11 and I don't think I'm good enough. Don't 12 me.”

     “Do as I say without asking 13. Just paint the same painting once again and give it to me. It will work,” his teacher persuaded (劝服) him. The young painter finally 14 and two days later, he painted the same painting once again and 15 it to his teacher.

    “Come with me,” his teacher said. They reached the same street-crossing and put the same painting there. His teacher took out another 16 which read. “Gentlemen. I've painted this piece. Since I'm new to painting, there might be some disadvantages in my painting. I've put a box with 17 and brushes (画笔) just below. Please do me a favor. If you see a disadvantage, kindly pick up the brush and 18 it.” They both visited the place in the evening. The young painter was 19  to see there was not a single corection done!

    It is easy to criticize (批评), but difficult to help others 20 .

    I was 15, She looked like she was over 70. But on that day, I think she 1 me more than anyone else.

    Walking into church that Sunday was 2. I had 3 let anyone see me cry. But I 4 I would cry that day. My grandfather was suddenly ill. The doctors said he might not live much longer. Everyone else in my family was crying. I felt 5 inside, too.

    I went to the 6 that day to pray. There, I 7 a lady sitting at the end of my row. She was smiling. I closed my eyes and8 for my grandfather to get better. Soon, tears came to my eyes. I tried to hold them back so that others wouldn't 9 I brought my head up and opened my eyes. I saw a hand in front of me handing me a10

    The old lady was sitting next to me,11 She didn't say a word. She just gave me a tissue (纸巾) and a smile. I12 to thank her, but only13 came out. Then she took my hand, I looked into her 14 They were clear and blue, and they made me feel 15 Her smile said to me: I am with you. Everything will be 16, I closed my eyes again. When I opened them, she was gone. I never saw her again.

    My grandfather died the next week. We all cried a lot more,17 when I thought of that old lady's warm smile，I felt a little 18.

    How did she know how I was19? I 20 I could see her again, to say thank you.

Little Bit

    "Meow, meow, meow," is what I heard as I walked through the alley. I approached the noise and observed a tail sticking out from under a piece of wood Under the wood was a 1 black and white cat I picked him up and 2 he must be freezing to death 3 home with the cat held in my jacket.

    My new best friend, who soon became known as Little Bit, received his name because he was almost4when I held him in my hands. He stood about five inches tall. Little Bit's small size had a great advantage—he 5 perfectly in the pocket of my jacket, which made 6 him everywhere very easy.  Any time I was home, he wouldn't leave my 7 He was always  8 to me. When I fell asleep at night,he would always rolling up around my head to ensure that I was warm.

    Unfortunately, I grew up. My teenage life 9 my relationship with Little Bit. I lived at such a fast10 that I stopped making time for him. My free time was spent with my friends instead. I would come in the house on my phone and not 11 him at all. His meows became an annoyance to me, but it wasn't his fault that he wanted my 12 back.

    Time had caused a13 to Little Bit. His body began shocking down and by the time I  realized 14 was wrong with him, he had already lost his balance. He lay there and looked at me, and 15 this day I still remember the 16 look in his bright green eyes. I took him to the vet (兽医 ), but there was nothing he could do The last time I17 him he wasn't he same tiny cat I had found ten years before. Little Bit filled my arms and he was put to sleep that day.

    Little Bit's 18 made me realize how much he meant to me.He was always there for me when I needed him. I 19 our last years together and I feel sorry for not always being there for him.I will always20 the special memories we made.

The spirits of giving

    Two weeks before Christmas, two girls were walking down the street, laughing on some ice that remained from a recent snow. Merrily they shared what they hoped to 1from Christmas.

    They stopped to talk to an old man named Harry, who was on his knees2weeds around a large oak tree. He wore a pair of 3garden gloves. His fingers were sticking out of the ends, blue from the4.

    Harry told them he was getting the yard in 5as a Christmas gift for his mother, who had died several years before. He said with his eyes 6with tears,"My mother was all I had. She loved her7and her trees, so I do this for her at Christmas."

    His words8the girls and soon they were down on their hands and knees helping him 9around the trees. When they were finished, Harry pressed a quarter into each of their hands and said, "I wish I could 10 you more, but it's all I've got right now."

    The girls had often passed his house, and as they 11 on they remembered that the house was always12. No decorations to add cheerfulness were anywhere in sight. Harry sat behind curtain windows, looking 13.

    The quarter in one little girl's palm(手心) seemed to burn a hole of guilt 14 they walked on. The next day she called her friend and they 15 to put their quarters in a jar marked "Harry's Christmas Present". Then they began to seek out small jobs to16more. Every nickel, dime and quarter they earned went into the jar.

    Two days before Christmas, they had enough money to buy new 17and a card. Christmas Eve found them18Harry's doorstep singing carols(圣诞颂歌). When Harry opened the door, they presented him with the gloves wrapped in pretty paper and a19pumpkin pie a mother had just baked. With 20hands he tore open the paper from the gloves, and then to their surprise, he held them to his face and wept.

    I knew it was snowing before I opened my eyes. There was that special quiet in the air that comes when the city is heavily 1 with snow. My thirteen-year-old big brother, Lenny, came in and asked me if I wanted to go 2 with him in Madison Square Garden.

    I had no time to 3. I dressed myself in a hand-mc-down winter coat, put on the boots and 4 the clasps（搭扣）. Eventually, we 5on the twenty-block journey in the snow.

    The first twelve blocks weren't 6, but the long cross town street 7 to be terrible. The fierce winds made it almost impossible to 8 forward. I could no longer 9 my brother. My 10 was uncovered. My hands and feet ached with 11.

    We stopped in a doorway for a rest. Lenny took his hands out of his pockets and bent down to refasten the 12 metal clasps of my boots. 13 that Lenny had to take care of me, I stared straight ahead and 14 a man walking toward us through the snow.

    I was unable to 15 how old he was but he was tall, thin, and had a gentle, 16 face. He wore no hat. There was a 17 around his neck, and his overcoat, like ours, was caked with snow. He kneeled down before me and wrapped his soft wine-colored scarf 18 around my head.

    1don't remember ice-skating that day, or how we got home. All my19 holds is the snow, the 20 of a stranger, and my big brother, Lenny.

You can't imagine how crazy I was about football when I was young. For years my life followed a(n) 1: I slipped out of the house, played football until dark and instantly I was infected with malaria. Football was so appealing that I was willing to 2 anything —injuries, punishment, and even sickness—to play it. Soon enough, my mother would rush me to the Sijuwade Hospital. There, the doctor said I needed to be 3 .

My dad often spent the night with me in the hospital while my mother 4 my sister at home. Then came the happiest 5 when my father told me wonderful stories.

My father was a(n) 6 storyteller. In the hospital, he would tell me a story or two, or, sometimes, if he was not too tired, many in response to my request. He 7 bicycle sounds and the howl of the wind so vividly that the pictures would never 8 from my mind. So happy were these moments that I sometimes wished to   9 my hospital stay.

Because of my mom's strict supervision, it became 10 difficult to steal out. No longer sick, no more stories. 11, I broke into my father's room one evening.

"Dad, you tell me stories only when I'm sick."

My father laughed, "You are already eight and can read by yourself!"

He 12 me a book and said, "Go and read that. It'll tell you stories."

I remember that night clearly. I opened the book and read what turned out to be the most 13 story that I had ever read.

What I discovered that night 14 my life. I became thirsty for books and became a voracious（求知欲强的）15 . I read in the mornings, at nights and in between. Through reading, I felt as though I were on the magical journey to the endless.