I woke up the other day to a phone call from a taxi driver. He had my friend's cell phone, and told me that my friend had1it in the cab the night before.

    It was a rainy2, which for cab drivers is a very busy time. The cab driver asked where he could3the cell phone off. I told him the cross4where I lived. I quickly got dressed and told him that I'd5him on the comer of the street.

    The driver drove all the 6from Queens to deliver the phone without 7. When I met up with him, I 8 and blessed him for having such a kind and beautiful9. I was so happy for my10because of this man's kindness! My friend had11 moved here and I could only imagine how 12 his cell phone was to him! I further asked the taxi driver if I could get his 13, so that my friend can thank him as well. He said my 14 and gratitude were all that he needed and drove off.

    I emailed my friend telling him I had his15and later that day I met up with him to tell him how I had16it. My friend said he couldn't believe such kindness should17in this big city. He told me he could not18to pay it forward.

    I was so 19 to see the kindness that happened early that morning. It just made my20!

    Whenever we hear about "the homeless", most of us think of the developing world. But the1 is that homelessness is everywhere. For example, how many of us would expect to see people living on the streets of a2country like Germany?

    Kurt Muller and his wife Rita have spent eleven years making3for the homeless of Berlin, Germany's capital. They first4 one long hot summer when most Germans were5 on holiday. Kurt Muller and his wife stayed at home, made sandwiches6a table in the street and gave food to the homeless.

    The Mullers soon realized that food and clothing weren't7 “What these people also need is warmth and8” says Rita. The Mullers didn't 9to give their phone number to the street people and told them to phone anytime. Rita 10there was somebody at home to answer the phone and their home was always11to anyone who couldn't face another night on the street.

    The couple were soon12all their time and money, so Kurt visited food and clothing companies to13 donations. Today, over thirty companies 14donate food and other goods to the cause and volunteers help to15them to the homeless. The public also give clothes and money and a shoe producer16new shoes.

    Kurt and Rita receive no17 for their hard work. “We feel like parents,” says Rita, “and parents shouldn't18 money for helping their children. The love we get on the streets is our salary. Though Rita admits she often gets19. She says she will continue with her work because she likes the feeling of having made a20 in the world.

    I was nine when I arrived at the Children's Home in Nashua, New Hampshire. I failed third grade that year, and barely 1 it through a second time, and had squeaked through(侥幸通过) fourth grade by the time I reached Pauline Jambard's fifth-grade class at Charlotte Avenue Elementary School.

    I was 2 I wasn't as intelligent as the other kids. 3, Ms. Jambard took an instant liking to me. Of all the 4 in school, reading was my favorite. She would tell me, "Terry, you 5 reading. If you can understand what you're reading, you'll be 6 than most kids." After I read all the books in our program, I started reading the classroom's set of Encyclopedia Britannica(《不列颠百科全书》). And gradually I started to really 7 school life.

    That 8, our school threw a Christmas party for family and community members. My brother and I had no family to 9. I still remember looking up and seeing Ms. Jambard walk through the front door and 10 she was there to see me. I was deeply moved. That was the 11 Christmas of my life!

    After I graduated from Ms. Jambard's class, my brother and I 12, and I lost all touch with my teacher. Years later, I was on a business trip and had to drive through Nashua. I took a chance and 13 Charlotte Avenue Elementary School. I was walking toward her 14 when she came out into the hallway and said, "Terry!" It was as if I had 15 left! I was in seventh heaven on my flight home.

    We have stayed in 16, and I call Ms. Jambard at least once a year. Because of the 17 she instilled(灌输) in me, I went on to have a 18 career in engineering. I don't know if Ms. Jambard realizes how much she 19 me, but I'll never forget her 20 and faith in me.

    Everyone has something that he or she cherishes a lot.

    Dad had a green comb. He bought it when he married Mum. Every night, he would hand me his 1 and say, "Good girl, help Daddy clean it, OK?"

    I was 2 to do it. At age five, this dull task brought me such 3. I would excitedly turn the tap 4 and brush the comb carefully. Satisfied that I'd done a good job, I would happily return the comb to Dad. He would 5 affectionately at me and place the comb on his wallet.

    Two years later, Dad started his own 6, which wasn't doing so well. That was when things started to 7. Dad didn't come home as early and as much as he used to. Mum and I became 8with him for placing our family in trouble. With 9 , an uncomfortable silence grew between us.

    After my graduation, Dad's business was getting back on track. On my 28th birthday, Dad came home 10. As usual, I helped him carry his bags into his study. When I turned to leave, he said, "Hey, would you help me 11 my comb?" I looked at him a while, then 12 the comb and headed to the sink.

    It hit me then: why, as a child, 13 Dad clean his comb was such a pleasure. That routine meant Dad was home early to 14 the evening with Mum and me. It 15 a happy and loving family.

    I passed the clean comb back to Dad. He smiled at me and 16 placed his comb on his wallet. But this time, I noticed something 17. Dad had aged. He had wrinkles (皱纹) next to his eyes when he smiled, 18 his smile was still as 19 as before, the smile of a father who just wanted a good 20 for his family.

    The room in the workhouse where the boys were fed was a large stone hall. At one end the master, in his cook's uniform, and two women served the food. This 1 a bowl of thin soup three times a day, with a piece of bread on Sundays. The boys ate 2 and were always hungry. The bowls never needed 3. The boys polished them with their spoons until they 4. After three months of this slow starvation, one of the boys told the others that so hungry was he 5 one night he might eat the 6 sleeping next to him. He had a wild 7 eye, and the other boys 8 him. After a long 9, they decided that one of them should ask for more food after supper that evening, and Oliver was 10.

    The evening arrived: the soup was served, and the bowls were 11 again in a few seconds. Oliver went up to the master, with his bowl in his hand. He felt very 12, but also 13 with hunger.

    "Please, sir, I want some more."

    The master was a fat, healthy man, but he turned very pale. He looked at the little boy in front of him with 14. Nobody else spoke.

    "What?" he asked at last, in a 15 voice.

    "Please, sir," replied Oliver, "I want some more."

    The master 16 him with the serving spoon, then seized Oliver's arms and 17 for the beadle (执事). The beadle came quickly, heard the terrible news, and immediately ran to tell the board.

    "He asked for me?" Mr. Limbkins, the fattest board member, asked in 18. "Is this really true?"

    19, Oliver was led away to be locked up, and a(n) 20 of five pounds was offered to anybody who would take him away and use him for work.

(Adapted from Oliver Twist《雾都孤儿》)

When I was three, I was inseparable from my parents. Where they went I went, always reaching out for their hands to ensure their1.

As we2 my preschool for the first time, my hands tightly3 my parents'. We walked past the 4 sign out front which read "Welcome to the Lakeschool!", up the stairs and through the front door. I was happy and5– what could this new place be? Soon enough, however, I was introduced to my teachers and as they warmly6 me, they separated my hands from my parents' hands. As we progressed across the room, my parents7 broke away from our little group and went a8 way. They seemed, in fact, to be heading toward the door. When I realized what was happening, I9 to run after them, only to be held back by my teachers. My small face contorted (变形) and tears began to flood my cheeks. My mouth opened and a desperate10 escaped, loud enough for my parents, who were now outside, to11. I stared at them, pressed up against the12. But soon another little girl13. She wrapped her14 around me until I stopped crying. Then she took my hand and led me away from the window. My parents breathed a sigh of15.

The girl was Helen, and from that moment on we were best friends.