I still remember an old lady, a customer on the paper route in my hometown when I was 12 years old. She taught me a lesson in 1 that I shall never forget.

    On a(n)2  afternoon, a friend and I were throwing stones onto the 3  of the old lady's house. The stone that I found was too smooth,4 it slipped from my hand as I let it go and 5  straight not for the covering on top of the house but for a small window on the house's back porch. At the sound of broken glass, we knew we were 6 . We turned and 7.

    I was too 8 about getting caught that first night to be concerned about the old lady with the broken window in the freezing weather. However, a few days later, when I was sure that I hadn't been9 ,I started to feel guilty about her  10 . She still greeted me with a smile each day11  I gave her the paper, but I was no longer able to act comfortably in her 12

    I 13 my mind that I would save my paper delivering money, and in three weeks I had the seven dollars that I calculated would pay for her window. I put the money in an envelope with a note 14  that I was sorry for breaking her window and15 that the seven dollars would cover the cost of repairing it.

    I waited until it was dark, moved 16 to the old lady's house and put the letter I didn't sign through the letter slot in her door. I felt 17  and could have the freedom of once again looking straight into the old lady's kind eyes.

    The next day, I handed the old lady her paper and was able to 18  the warm smile that I was receiving from her. She thanked me for the paper and gave me a bag of cookies she had made herself. I thanked her and proceeded(开始) to eat the cookies as I continued my 19.

    After several cookies, I felt an envelope and pulled it out of the bag. When I opened the envelope, I was 20. Inside were the seven dollars and a short note that said, "I'm proud of you.”

    That morning, I got on the train as always. I was a publishing director and was reading my newspaper 1But that day, I read it very2 I thought I must be tired. At the office, I sat down, turned on my 3and found I couldn't read the message on the screen.

    Eventually, worried4drove me to hospital. There, confirmation came that I suffered from aphasia(失语症), a condition that5 it's difficult or impossible to receive and produce language.

    I was back at home a week later, and my 6was to get better and return to work in a couple of months. I started 7a speech therapist(治疗专家) three times a week, and was given homework to help8my vocabulary and grammar. After a month, my own speech became 9“Could you pass the salt?” “Shall we go for a walk?” but I couldn't have a conversation. I couldn't read the newspaper.

    For 25 years, I was used to a(n)10day of meetings, and bringing three manuscripts home with me each night. I didn't feel 11to say goodbye to my old self.

    In the darkest months, I devoted myself to 12I would spend hours writing a description of something13like a pencil. I couldn't14novels or newspapers, so I tried reading poetry, and found the shorter lines easier to 15.My speech came back, and I learned how to read again,16much more slowly. I spent more time with my family, and 17myself to slow down.

    Now, 10 years later, my relationship with my 18is deeper than ever. We have 19to be very patient with each other. I'm no longer a high-achieving publisher or someone who 2010 books a week. I'm a family man with aphasia, and if I read 10 books a year, that's good.

A welcome gift

    Dario and his mother loved their new apartment.  The living room was large enough for their piano. That night, the two of them 1 side by side at the piano. They played jazz music to celebrate their new home. The loud 2filled the room and made them feel very happy.

    The next morning, 3,their happiness disappeared. Someone had left a 4 under their door during the night. One of their neighbours had written to complain（抱怨）about the sound of the piano. Dario's mother asked the building superintendent（管理员）if he knew anything about it.But he said that they were all 5 people and he couldn't imagine any of them had done that. Later that morning,

    Dario suggested that they write a letter to their 6 and apologize for their playing.

    “Maybe we could go and 7 everyone in person," his mother said.

    “What if we invited them to come here for a 8 instead?" Dario asked.

    They both loved the 9.Over the next few days, they 10invitations and prepared desserts for their guests. They decorated the apartment with streamers(彩带) and party lights.

    Finally, the day of the party 11. Some guests brought presents. Others brought flowers. Some even brought desserts to 12.One woman, Mrs Gilbert, 13 Dario's mother with a book of piano music by Chopin. “I heard you playing the other night,”she said. “The sounds woke me out of bed.

    I 14 that you might play like this every night. So I wrote a short note.I hope you don't think I disliked the playing.” Dario's mother smiled at Mrs Gilbert.“I think maybe we15 you an apology," she said.“I didn't 16how late it was when we were playing. Maybe we should play some quieter music at night.” “You play, you play!" Mrs Gilbert said.“I like what you play! Just not so loud at night." She pointed to the book she had given them. “These songs are not such 17 music.”

    “These songs are beautiful music," Dario's mother said. “We will be18to play them in the evening.” “And we won't play so loud or late!”Dario said. He was already looking forward to 19 the new music. More than that, however, he was happy to see the big smile on his mother's face. It gave him a feeling of 20 and made him feel that they were home at last.

    Ann, a mother of 3 children, is a warm-hearted social worker and she has done a lot to help people1 . The family's dinner conversation often turns to local poor families, and she 2 tries her best to seek help for them. This year, Ann 3 that the pretended Santa Claus would pay a special 4 to a young unemployed mother named Ashley, who was 5 two sons by herself.

    One Sunday morning, the family were joyfully having breakfast 6 the phone rang, saying that the help she had requested for Ashley had 7. No Santa Claus, no presents, nothing. On hearing the news, Ann noticed the 8 disappear from her children's faces. Kinzie, the youngest one, 9 down from her chair and ran out of the kitchen room. In only a few 10, she returned carrying her piggy bank and began to 11 the coins over and over again, $3.30 in total. “Mom,” she shook her head 12, “I know it's not much. But maybe this will buy a 13 for the children.” Then suddenly everyone was reaching into their pockets and 14 their purses. Immediately, the money-coins and bills 15 on the table. The next day, Ann as well as Kinzie drove to Ashley's house. After Ann wished the 16 the woman a Merry Christmas, she began to unload the gifts from the car, 17 them to Ashley one by one and told her the whole story.

    Ashley was moved to tears 18the words: Kinzie opened not only her piggy bank but also her 19, and my children as well as I myself would be able to do something 20 for someone else in need.

    Julie was one of my favorite students at the University of Nebraska. I remember her coming to me after class one day. While most students hurriedly left, Julie1to ask questions about the next week's exam.

    Julie never2it to the exam, though. The day after our conversation, she was tragically struck by a truck.

    In Julie's ward, her parents stood in quiet3. The physician entered, cleared his4, and said, “Your Julie has only a few5to live.” He felt the6to ask, “Would you consider donating some of her organs?”

    7, in a neighboring state, Mary leaned forward, her eyes following every movement of her child. She was8memories to enjoy when she could no longer9him.

    Several states away, John, 26, was reading to his sons, his body connected to a life-giving “artificial kidney”. Doctors had given him a10of only weeks to live. His only hope was a kidney transplant.

    Julie's grief-stricken parents11the physician's question in their mind. Julie had once said she wanted to be an organ donor12her death.13as they were, they turned to the physician, responding, “Yes. Julie always gave to others while living. She would want to give in death.”

    Within 24 hours, Mary was informed she would receive one of Julie's eyes, and John was told to prepare for a kidney transplant. Julie's other organs would give life and14to other waiting recipients.

    “Julie died right after her twentieth birthday. My heart breaks again and again, at each birthday, at each15: when she might have graduated; when she might have married…” says Julie's mother. “But Julie's life was a16to us. Knowing that in her death, she gave life and sight to others is17to us, and remembering that we carried out her18has helped us19 the loss of her.”

    I may have had a small part in teaching Julie how to live. But she, and her family, are still teaching me an even greater lesson how to20.

    Bowen was grown-up, and for his birthday that year his father gave him a1without any pictures in it!

    Bowen's father found he was not2about it, and told him, "Son, this isn't just any3book; it's a magic (有魔力的) book. But to discover its magic you'll have to4it."

    Well, that was better. Bowen liked5to do with magic. He started reading it, 6he wasn't very willing to.

    The next morning, his7asked him, "Have you found the magic8?"

    So… there was a key to find! Bowen flicked through (快速翻阅) the book, but there was no9of the key.

    And then his father10him, "You won't find it like that. You have to read the book. "

    Bowen didn't have much patience (耐心) , thinking his father just told a11A little later, his little sister, Rainer, asked him12the book. After several days, she13shouted, "I've found the key! " And she wouldn't stop14all the places she had visited using the magic key.

    This made Bowen read the book again. At first it was a15; there wasn't even one single16in the book. But, gradually, Bowen became17the adventurous (冒险的) prince's life. Then, suddenly, he was there.

    The book18was the key!

    It was true that every time he19it, he felt going to its valleys and seas, and he lived the adventures of the prince.

    From then on, with every new book, Bowen never20being attracted by the letters and words inside.