One month ago, my daughter started kindergarten. As usual, I wished her success. I was telling a lie. What I actually wish for her is 1. I believe in the power of failure.

    Success is 2 in a sense. Success is proving that you can do something that you already know you can do, or doing something correctly the first time, which can 3 be a problematic victory. First-time success is usually a fluke (侥幸). First-time failure, 4, is expected; it is the natural order of things.

    Failure is how we learn. I have been told of an African phrase 5 a good cook as “she who has broken many pots”. If you have spent enough time in the 6 to have broken a lot of pots, probably you know a fair amount about 7. I once had a late dinner with a group of chefs, and they spent time 8 knife wounds and burn scars. They knew how much credibility (可信度) their 9 gave them.

    I earn my 10 by writing a daily newspaper column. Each week I am 11 that one column is going to be the worst column of the week. I don't just set out to write it; I try my best every day. 12, every week, one column is inferior (较差的) to the others, sometimes extremely so.

    I have learned to 13 that column. A successful column usually means that I am treading (踏) on 14 ground, going with tricks that work, or dressing up popular ideas in fancy words. Often in my inferior columns, I am trying to 15 something I've never done before, something that I'm not even sure can be done.

    My daughter is a perfectionist. She will feel her failures, and I will want to 16 her. But I will also, I hope, 17 her of what she learned, and how she can do 18 next time. I probably won't tell her that failure is a good thing, because that's not a(n) 19 you can learn when you're five. I hope I can tell her, though, that it's not the end of the world. Indeed, with luck, it is the 20.

    I wouldn't have picked up that dusty card without seeing those big words: DON'T FORGET. I was1. Don't forget what? Under the words were three numbered items. 1. Snow peas. 2. Shakespeare. 3. Sadira Kirmani. What was my name doing on someone's list?

    Yesterday was my first day here. Since our teacher Mrs. Allison2me, nobody except the boy with3spoke to me and asked if he could have my cake at lunch. I tried to4attention to the lessons, but my mind went blank. Snow peas, Shakespeare, and me? “Sadira.” I5when Mrs. Allison called my name. “It's time to line up for6.” As I moved through the line, I heard a girl with braces（背带） ask, “What's that?”, 7at a pan. “Snow peas,” the lady answered. “I'll try some snow peas,” the boy behind me8. Snow peas! Number l on the list.

    After lunch, Mrs. Allison9that it was “poem time.” The boy who'd asked for snow peas stood up. “OK, Wyatt.” Mrs. Allison nodded. “To be or not to be…” Wyatt began. When he10, Mrs. Allison added, “Shakespeare wrote sonnets(十四行诗), a special kind of11.” Shakespeare? Number 2 on the list. I started to feel upset, 12what would happen next.

    After school, I sat alone on the bus. It was quite a while before I13Wyatt. He smiled in a 14way, saying “I wanted to talk to you. I almost forgot.” “Forgot what'?” “You're Number 3 on my list.” So now I15what was going on. “My mom's16. I'm supposed to try three new things every day.” continued Wyatt.

    That night, I made my own17. l. Try the spinach quiche. 2. Offer my18to the boy with glasses. 3. Say19to the girl with braces. Then I smiled before adding one more20: Thank Wyatt.

    As is known to all, most stories of kindness do not begin with formerly drug-addicted celebrity (名人) bad boys. 1 does.

    When this 2 took place, I was accompanying my grandmother at a huge garden party. 3, Robert Downey Jr., in a nice cream-colored suit, came in. I pointed out this big movie star to grandma 4, but she was far more interested in piling her paper plate with cheese. As my 80-year-old grandmother rose for the 5 after the party, she fell into a wheelchair ramp (踏板) nearby. The sharp ramp 6 her leg open and it was bleeding.

    I should have quickly taken control of the 7 —but due to my blood faint, I didn't. Luckily, Robert Downey Jr. 8

    He called an ambulance immediately, and asked someone to 9 a blanket. He took off his suit and 10 his suit around her leg. The cream color turned dark red. Robert surely knew how to speak to her, 11, distract her. He stayed with my grandmother until the ambulance came, 12 her hand and telling her she was breaking his 13 by leaving so early. I hurried into the ambulance without a word, feeling too shy to thank him.

    Some 15 years after that garden party, and five years since he'd been set free from prison for possession of drugs in his car, I came across Robert in a fancy restaurant. I was 14 to respect people's privacy and never 15 someone having a meal. But on this clay, I decided to 16 the code.

    “I don't have any 17 if you remember this. "and I told him the story. “I just wanted to tell you that it was simply the kindest act I've ever 18.”

    It's never too 19 to express our appreciation for kindness which lies in everyone, even a celebrity bad boy. 20, appreciation itself is a sort of kindness.

    Early in the morning, it was freezing cold, and the day didn't break. It was snowing. Because I had much work to do on my final day, I set off for work1. I walked tardily along the sidewalk towards the2. I looked up at the building in which many of my3hours for the last five years had been spent. My heart4fast and I was unwilling to go in. I didn't want it to5.

6, I was made to go through the doors of the company for the last time. The morning went by as I had plenty of work to finish and I7on having the task done and ignored the office clerks —they also kept their heads down,8eye contact. My9was sad to them too.

    That day two10of our team were leaving as part of the over-staffed programme. At noon we had a leaving speech11, leaving cards and promises to stay in12 . Before leaving my position, I began to think about my future13.

    In one week I would fly to NewYork where I had14spent an amazing year working. Actually, this job had15my interest in working in diversity.

    I decided to go to America with another two friends and I planned to take time out to16my next move with them. This is absolutely necessary in such a17. If possible, it is18for your physical, mental and emotional well-being to get out of your regular19, away from home and all reminders of work to recharge your physical and emotional batteries and20calmly on what comes next.

    As my husband, Doug, stood on the busy New York city street trying to stop a taxi, I tried to protect my daughter from the cold December wind and rain. I put my head down to kiss my daughter on her 1 where veins crept up (静脉突出) the side of her tiny face.

    Frustrated and wet, my husband gave up his attempt to flag down a taxi. I knew the feeling. Just after her first birthday, we were told our daughter Katie has a 2 brain illness. Since that moment, Doug and I felt like runners in a marathon race where the finish line kept 3. We knew Katie was running out of 4. It had taken months before we finally had a name for the 5, but we were told only a few specialists in the world were qualified to knew how to 6 the precious operations. Now, as we finally found a brilliant (杰出的) doctor to 7 our girl, we were 8 in a strange city in the cold rain.

    Just at the moment, a middle-aged woman pulled over and said, “Pardon me? May I offer you a(n) 9?” Before we could say anything, she continued, “It's really no 10 for me. Just get in.” It was then that I noticed her thick Irish accent, which 11 me up like hot soup.

    We simply said, “Thanks! Roosevelt Hospital, please,” as we 12 on her car for the ride.

    “Are you going 13 the baby?” she asked us.

    I nodded my head, holding back my 14.

    At the hospital, we 15 her over and over again for the ride. As the woman hugged me, I 16 her face was wet with tears in worry. She promised to 17 for us before she left.

    After three more visits to New York and two more 18 surgeries (手术), Katie is cured. But the 19 of the Irish Angel still rang as a constant reminder of a tiny ray of light that appeared in our 20 days.

    The most delicious memories happen during the holidays. 1 them are my little girls at the church play, the moment they got their first angel wings, or New Year's snowmen with bright scarves. 2 there is one memory that is a little bittersweet. This story 3 to mind a colorful candy dish and a very little boy. The occasion was sometime between Christmas and New Year when a few candies in a dish 4 dull December day.

    Wrapped against the cold, my then 3-year-old grandson, Justin, and I had dashed from the 5 of my parked car into the building where I had a few work-related tasks to 6. A secretary  7 us as we brushed the snow from our clothes. Then, I 8 myself seeing to the business that had brought us there. But while my grandson's hand remained in mine, his 9 moved to the candy dish sitting nearby.

    As we turned to leave, the 10 woman behind the desk asked the question all children wait to hear.

    "Honey," she said, looking at Justin. "Would you like a candy?"

    The boy looked up 11, his eyes meeting mine. After a slight 12 from me he hurried over to the candy dish. Without hesitation, his little hands grabbed one – and only one – and then he began to  13 his way back to me.

    "Justin!" I said from the doorway, a little loudly as I realized 14 had been forgotten. "15 do you say?"

    The little boy returned to the candy dish.

    "Get 16 one, too!"

    I laughed. The secretary laughed. And 17 little Justin innocently (天真地) laughed at the fun we were having.

    But in that moment, I saw something about Justin that remained long after the 18 of the candy had disappeared. My grandchild was already a person with a lot of 19 in his heart.

    In the years since, I've enjoyed a laugh or two thinking back on that moment. Really, what could be 20?