My dad has been driving a truck for almost his entire life. He's usually 1 all the weekdays and comes home only at weekends. Sometimes he stays2 for two weeks at a time. 3 I don't get to see him as often as I wish, we remain very 4.

    My dad is the type of person who doesn't let you 5 up anything that you start. When I was eleven, my father bought me a piano. At first I was so 6 about it that I would spend hours and hours learning how to play. Then it got 7. I was so tired of it that I asked if I could stop. Much as I tried, he 8 me to go on. Now I have been playing for almost five years. I love it and I' m glad I 9 my dad's advice.

    My dad is 10 talented, for he has been playing the guitar for over 20 years. Under his influence, I also like 11 now. Sometimes my dad can be my biggest 12. He makes me smile even when I lose in a talent show 13 sometimes he can be my biggest critic(批评家). He14 ignores the small mistakes I make. He encourages me never to lose 15 because he thinks that all my efforts will 16 one day.

    My dad is generous. Every Thursday night, he 17 to read to the children at a children's club. When he reads, their 18 light up with curiosity about what will happen next. I feel 19of having a person in my family who cares enough to volunteer to 20.

    I love dad with all my heart. He's a hero in my heart and the most wonderful person in the world.

Crayon Crisis

    The telephone rang. It was my sister, who was working in an elementary school. She told me she used my crayon 1 again.

    Over 40 years ago, I sat in my first-grade classroom2 the teacher asked me to go to the principal's office. I was shy. And I hated to be  3 For me, being called to the principal's office was my worst dream.

    When I pushed open the door, it was worse than I thought. Seated in front of the principal's desk were my 4 My father walked straight over to me. Holding my drawings, he asked, “Why do you only use a black crayon when you draw?" I couldn't speak.

    “5 me your desk,” said my father.

In my classroom, my father pulled out my crayon box from my desk. A single nub of a crayon rested in his palm—it was black.6, my father asked, “Where are the rest of your crayons? ”

    I quietly explained that I'd given all the other crayons to friends. I'd been   7 like my parents had taught me. My father let out a deep 8“You were sharing?”

    I nodded my head.

Back to the office, I looked at my father, then at the principal—both their faces were 9The principal whispered that I could go. I waved goodbye to my parents. My mother waved back, but I couldn't get my father's 10 he was glaring at the principal.

    I learned years later that my father's face was red due to 11 and the principal's was red due to embarrassment. The principal,12 seeing all my artwork done in black crayon, assumed (猜想) that I had deep emotional problems. He had called my parents in to discuss “my 13” and to suggest some psychological counseling (心理咨询).

    I was too afraid to say that I only had one crayon left. I was too shy to ask for my “shared” crayons back. Because I didn't 14 up for myself, others assumed the worst.

    Today my sister tells her students, “Don't be 15 to speak up. If you don't, I just might make the wrong assumption. Let me tell a story about my sister, when she was around your age...”

    These days，upcycling(升级改造)is popular with people.They 1 something unique from existing materials rather than buy more.My granny，Bobo has spent 92 years doing just that out of necessity.

    Wasting time and resources was 2 an option in the world she grew up in.With seven children to 3she lived a hard and economical life.Bobo has been upcycling 4 the day Great-Granny Annie put a needle in her hand and taught her how to give new 5 to every fabric(织物)in their farmhouse.

    Just like Bobo，my mother，Cindy6making her clothes.She7 her homecoming dress and bought the fabric with money she earned8 at the can factory.One generation passed on to the next the 9of creating something beautiful and useful by hand.

    Granny's and Mom's sewing skills meant that no matter the budget，Christmas，birthday，and wedding gifts were 10From a baby blanket to a bib(围嘴)，each treasure 11a special quality of personalization.In my home I am 12 by upcycling at its best.

    Thanks to Bobo's13 ways，the artistry of handwork lives on in four 14 of crafters.Granny Bobo lived it.Mom carried it on.I am picking it up by listening and 15Now my daughter，Greta，is also learning to use those 16.

    I sit and watch 17 as Bobo's hands weave needle and thread.In 92 years，her hands have known and 18 life，home and family.Age has brought the19 of some memories.But if you listen to her stories while she20you'll journey back to the old farm with her.

    My husband kissed me goodbye, stroke (轻抚) the baby's cheek and then rushed out of the door, into his busy day. With the cold of the morning fading, I fed my baby and it fell fast asleep. Usually I would place it in bed and quickly have the house somewhat in 1.

    However, this morning, I stayed seated, just 2, with the baby in my arms. The thoughts ran into 3of the mornings with my husband, a father rushing out of the door to meet the obligations of life. It was only a small jump to thoughts of my own 4.

    My mother passed away when I was ten, and as I looked 5, I could see how much of a family man my dad was. He went to work every morning and 6 to his family every evening. He 7 food, clothing, warmth, and protection. He was a faithful father.

    Setting the baby down, I dialed the 8 number. I had just realized the 9 of the ordinary－the daily life going on around us that we often took for granted, and that it needed to be 10.

    "Hi, Dad." I said, 11 back tears.

    "Hey, Bud. How are you?" 12 was in his voice.

    "Fine, I'm just calling to say … thank you." I got it out before my throat 13 too much for me to speak.

    "What for?"

    "For getting up and going to work every morning of my life. Now that I have my own 14 and I see my husband doing the same, I just wanted to thank you for being 15."

    There was 16 for a moment as my dad composed himself, and with a small 17 in his voice he said, "You're welcome, Bud."

    I don't remember much of the rest of the call, 18 that moment of revelation (显露) about my father, I will never forget. There are those who are known for their heroic 19, and also those who are known for their fortunes and fame, but it is the 20 everyday fathers who are the true heroes. I'm thankful that my father was one of them.

    I sat and waited for Kathleen to speak. “Annie,” she said, “A food bank that serves the elderly is asking for 1. I'd like you to organize the event.” “Well, errr…sure.” As I stuttered(结巴地说) through my 2 , all I could think was, “What? Why me?”

    I walked back to my office wondering where to 3. This was a time 4 the economy was fading. The rise in unemployment forced many of my coworkers to 5 to survive. How could I ask them for more?

    That evening I drove home, depressed. Then I remembered once my father was out of work. Mom wrote a note to Jim, the milkman, asking him not to 6 any more milk. Two days later Jim picked up the 7 and left four liters of milk. He left a message, 8, “Kids need milk.” The milk delivery 9 as usual and Jim never collected a cent 10 us.

    The memory of Jim's 11 fired my enthusiasm. Perhaps I'd be in for a pleasant surprise.

    The next morning I 12 signs about our food drive all over the cafeteria and on every notice board I could find. Each sign said, “Food drive to support the poor elderly! 13 of non-perishable(不易腐的) foods are greatly needed.”

    Within a few days I had to locate empty office space to 14 a large number of contributions we had 15. One of my coworkers, Maggie, made the rounds with me every day from one department to another to pick up the canned goods and other 16. Though over sixty, she 17 manage to push our food trolley(手 推车) around like a woman half her age.

    I asked her where she got all the enthusiasm. She said, “With the unemployment rate touching 10 percent, I can't think of a better way to be 18 for keeping our jobs 19 so many have lost theirs. Sure money is tight. But when isn't it? People need food.”

    As I listened to Maggie, the milkman's words 20 in my ears, “Kids need milk.”

    One evening, Catherine was at home as usual. As her1swung between what she was going to do with her life and their dinner plans for the evening, she was unexpectedly2by an urgent call from her sister “Get over here! Turn on NBC and check these guys out. They are just like you….” One Facebook message and a phone interview later, Catherine3herself on a bus with 8 strangers in the middle of the sweltering desert heat of Utah, picking up trash and4awareness about zero-waste and climate change.

    With a deep5of the environment and a desire to make a6, Catherine, Davey, and a group of self7“environmental pick-up artists” went on a coast to coast road side trash pick-up. As they walked, sometimes only80.9 miles in an entire day, they 9 and steadily made their way across the United States for three years, picking up a total of 201,678 pounds of trash.

    Catherine and Davey10with us wonderful stories of hope and inspiration that fueled their11to continue their journey. After spending weeks silently12how she would have enough13to fly home for their two-week spring break, Catherine found a blank, unidentified envelope14with $850 cash in the desert. Just enough to get her home and back. After their bus15outside of Denver, they unexpectedly got16and arrived in Yosemite National Park three weeks later, just in time for the “Yosemite Facelift” where17from all over the state came together with a18of cleaning up trash all over the park.

    Being at the right place at the right time became almost normal, and they realized that much of what they 19was more than just a coincidence. Together, their team learned to simply 20themselves to their task, and surrender to the journey.