“Daily Star, sir,” called Jason, carrying some newspapers under his arm. The little boy had been running up and down the street, but there were still twenty1left. His voice was almost gone and his heart was2. The shops would soon close, and all the people would go home. He would have to go home too, carrying the papers3money. He had hoped to sell more papers tonight to make more money to buy a4for his mother and some seeds for his bird. That was why he had bought the papers with all his money. He almost5as he thought of his failure to sell all his papers.

    “You don't know the6of selling papers. You must shout, “Hot news! Bomb bursting(炸弹爆炸)!” another newsboy Chad told Jason. “7 such news is not in the paper at all,” replied Jason. “Don't be so honest. Just run away quickly8they have time to see, and you'll9out the paper and get your money,” Chad said.

    It was a new10to Jason. He thought of his bird with no11and the cake he wanted to buy for his mother, but was12that he would not tell a lie. Though he was13a poor newsboy, he had been14some good qualities.

    The next afternoon Jason went to the office for his papers15. Several boys were crowding around Chad, who declared with a16smile that he had sold six dozen papers the day before. He added that Jason17money because he would not tell a lie. The boys18at Jason. “You wouldn't tell a lie yesterday, my boy?” A gentleman at the office came up and patted(轻拍) Jason's shoulder19, “You're just the boy I am looking for.” A week later Jason started his new20. He lost the sale of twenty papers because he would not tell a lie, but got a well-paid job because he told the truth.

    I often go to France to visit my grandmother who is very dear to me. She's now 76 years old, so every time I go to1 the two of us are very aware that it might be the2time we see each other for she has cancer.

    Last time I visited her in December of 2012. I did a series of short video3about her life. I asked her about her greatest memories and life learning so far, her 4books, food and stories. I learned a large quantity of amazing new things about her I5knew before.

    This year, I did not really have 6 only a great urge for her to know how much she is loved. I cooked for her and read her stories.

    Before leaving, I was7a way to leave something8behind besides the memory of our 9together. So I wrote her five different 10and gratitude notes to let her know how much she11to me, and hid them in different places where I knew she would 12find them. One under her pillow. Another one 13from the lamp cover by which she reads in the evening. Another one by her toothbrush. One in her14which she eagerly checks every day. And the last one on her car's steering wheel.

    I left 15knowing that these cards would surely 16her up after I left. She called me as I was departing for Paris to catch my plane back to the US and said, “I17your three cards! By the time I discovered the third card, I was laughing out loud!18 they did me so much good. Thank you so much!” I19to myself, knowing she still has two more to go! It was Sunday, so my 20was that she had not checked her mailbox and had not yet driven her car!

    It is a blue, cotton shirt. The shirt belonged to my1David. On his birthday before he left college, his mother bought him the shirt.2I gave him free use of my bike, he let me wear the shirt, occasionally.

    We shared the shirt, and as days3, we shared more of our stories. David was in school by scholarships and grants (助学金). He4to keep his scholarships, because without even one of them, he would have to5and back on the farm. And in David's home, there was always only enough money to6the expense. His father died when he was twelve.

    7, David also talked about his father Usually it was late at night, in the dorm just before bed, and the 8always ended with tears that flowed from a river of memories and9: memories of a father suffering from 10when his son was just a teenager, longings for opportunities to cure his father's disease missed, because disease does not understand about the11between father and son. Nor do(es).12care.

    Time passed and we had to say13to each other. After lots of hugging, and words of thanks, we eventually 14. It was on my15trip upstairs to our dorm that I saw a package on my bed. I16the wrapping paper. It was the blue cotton shirt in a box with a card17to it, reading: Thomas, I can't thank you enough for your 18. This has been tough years and you have been19a friend. Thank you for listening. Thanks for everything. -- David

    I put aside the note, with20tears dropping on the shirt, I still have the shirt today, though it has faded and wrinkled with age.

    Christmas 1940 makes me misty-eyed every time I think about it. In the hard times, people1one another. We2food, clothing, bedding and household items and gave them to the needy.

    That Christmas we students found ourselves3toys we collected and loading packages for4.As we presented the gifts, we saw5in many faces, especially those of the children. We had a few more6to make on Christmas morning. The air was heavy and frozen to the bone. For several hours, we knocked on doors. But as the cold hours passed, our7gradually faded. When we8headed home, someone9a small house down a canal bank. None of us knew who lived there,10we wondered if there were11.We still had a doll, two trucks, some small toys, chocolate Santas and a box of groceries. We decided to make one last visit. When we knocked on the door, a young woman answered it, looking at us12.Three small children watched from behind her skirt—a little girl of about 2, and boys perhaps 4 and 5 years old. “Merry Christmas,” we13as we bent down and handed the gift-wrapped packages to the children and the box of groceries to the 14, whose eyes widened15.She slowly smiled, then quickly said, “Come in.” The room was16as the children looked at their mother, wondering if the gifts were really for them. The little girl17her doll, and the boys grasped the trucks as they sought a(an)18.She put her arms19them and said in a20voice, “I told you Santa Claus would come.”

Wings of Angel

    I used to hate myself because I wasn't "normal". Everyone else could play on the monkey bars and ride on a bicycle, but not 1. I had a severe spinal cord disorder(脊髓病) and I knew I would always be much 2than others.

    I hated going to school and I hated 3at me. I hated seeing others smiling broadly and standing 4and tall. And most of all, I hated looking in the5and seeing an ugly and hunchback(驼背).

    My friends found me 6because I didn't let other get close to me. I thought I was going to go on like this for the rest of my life 7Angela appeared.

    That afternoon, I was sitting by myself in a corner of the school—a spot where no one would 8 me. That's when I first heard your voice.

    "Hi. Can I sit down?"

    I raised my head and there she was, with an irresistible smile on her round face.

"What are you looking at?" you asked.

    "Ants."

    "What are they doing?"

    "No 9."

    "I bet they're playing games and make friends. Don't you think so?"

    That was how our 10started and it didn't stop. We talked about everything under the sun—the ants, the clouds, my little niche(处境)—until it was sunset.

    Then suddenly, you saw my 11. She just stared.

    My heart 12. What I feared most had happened and I knew for sure she would13 me now.

    She stood up, pointed at my back and said, "I know14your back is hunched."

    I closed my eyes like a criminal waiting to be15. I begged in my heart for her to16, but you just kept on going. "I know what you've got in there. Do you?"

    "No," I answered 17.

    She bent and whispered in my ears.

    "Your back is bunched because you've got a pair of wings from the angels."

I was18. I looked into your eyes and her19 touched my heart. From that day on, I started to learn to20myself because I have the wings of an angel and a kind – hearted friend.

    From the first week of high school, my best friend, Trisha, was always going out with the popular girls.1I thought, "It's okay; she's just making new friends." But soon I realized that Trisha wasn't interested in me anymore. I'd 2my best friend. It really hurt.

    One day, I told Trisha that we should 3  pretending（假装）to be friends when we really weren't anymore. I wasn't trying to make her mad, 4 she was. After that, Trisha started talking about me behind my back, telling people that I was 5.Some of our friends 6 with her. I felt like she was taking them away from me.

    The more I thought about it, the 7 I got. Finally, I 8a picture of Trisha and drew lines on her face. I wrote, "I  9 this person" across the bottom. And then I did something I'll always 10 : I put it on a website I thought was 11. I thought people would see it, and it felt good to vent(发泄).

    A week later, Trisha's mom saw the 12.She called my mom, who made me take it off the website right away. However, it was already too 13 .Lots of people had seen it, and I was in a lot of 14.

    That whole day, I felt 15 .I had to say sorry to Trisha face to face. She said she accepted my apology（道歉）,but I felt she was 16 angry with me.

    Posting that picture was one of the worst 17 I've ever made. I realize now I could have found a much better way to deal with my 18 .If I'd just told Trisha how much I 19 her, maybe things would have turned out 20. It's too late for me to change things, but I hope you'll learn from my mistake.