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 tap4and brush the comb carefully. Satisfied that I'd done a good job, I would happily return the comb to Dad. He would5affectionately(深情地）at me and place the comb in his wallet.

    Two years latter，Dad started his own 6which wasn't so good . Things started to 7, Dad didn't come home as early and as he used to. Mum and I became8with him for placing our family in trouble. With 9going on，an uncomfortable silence grew between us.

    After my graduation, Dad's business was getting back . On my 28th birthday, Dad came home10. As usually 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,13dad clean his comb was such a pleasure. That routine(习惯）meant dad was home early to 14 the evening with Mum and me. It15 a happy and loving family.

    I passed the clean comb back to Dad, He smiled at me and16 placed his comb in his wallet. But this time，I noticed something 17 Dad had aged. He had wrinkles next to his eyes when he smiled,18 his smile was still as 19as before, the smile of a father who just wanted a good 20 for his family.

    I have written a poem called Flying Kites, in which a man 1 his son to fly a kite. After a few minutes, the child2 drops the string and lets the kite soar(高飞). With joy in his eyes, he watches it climb until it disappears 3.The father realizes that 4 he'll have to loosen the string that ties him to his son. And he 5 ,“Will I release the tie as unselfishly as that?”

    Many years later my son, Gary,6 he wouldn't finish his college career. I tried to talk him out of it. But none of my reasoning made any 7 . At the end of the semester Gary moved back home.

    Gary managed to find a job at a nursery and went at it with 8enthusiasm. I,9, was deeply disappointed. What was a college professor's 10  doing at a job that any high school dropout could perform? Then I tried to11 him. “Look,” I said, “In a few years you'll be at your high school reunion with 12 classmates who became doctors, lawyers, and engineers. Do you think you'll be able to 13 that?”

    “Yes, Dad,” he replied without 14. Then he fixed his eyes on mine and said, “But the real question is: Can you?”

    Shame suddenly 15 me. I wasn't thinking about my son; I was thinking about myself and what my friends would think. The problem wasn't Gary's pride; it was mine. All at once I remembered my  16  and the question it asked “ Will I release the 17 as unselfishly as that?”. At that moment I knew I had to let go. Gary was  18 enough to make his own choices.

    Today Gary has a successful career working for the city. I am very 19 of who he has become.20I let go of my pride, I've been able to sit back and enjoy watching him soar.

    My old friend Judy who worked at our local Wal-fart, had been down a pretty rough road. However, she somehow had maintained her 1 and cheerful outlook on life.

    Every time I 2 other, I felt a pull in my heart to do 3 to help. I just couldn't figure out what it was that I was 4 to do.

    Christmas was coming. This morning I was 5 by and turned in. I had Christmas cards in my car from work. I pulled one out and 6 it to her. I placed a gift of cash inside the card – more cash than I had ever given anyone but the 7 in my heart said, "Yes! Do it!"

    I went up to customer service and said to the clerk 8 there, "I'm looking for my friend, Judy." He said, "OK, she is here. I'll 9 her for you."

    When my friend 10 I said with a smile "Here is a card for you." She asked, "Should I 11it here?"

    "Sure," I 12 . She opened it and tears came to her eyes. She burst out a cry of 13 "Oh, thank you! I wasn't going to be able to give my girls Christmas gifts at all this year."

    It was 14 for me to see her happiness and it was also good to know I had finally 15 how I was supposed to help her. 16 she did next made me know I had done the right thing. She called me later to thank me again, 17 "It was too much, so I shared it 18 two other women at work who were not going to have Christmas gifts for their children 19. I hope you don't mind."

    My heart swelled with joy knowing I had done something that was passed on right 20 it was meant to go.

    Mott hoped to find a lady on an Iowa community Facebook page, but she didn't even know her name. All she knew is that the 1 woman looked to be in her 30s, had purple hair and was 2 gentle and compassionate.

    At 10:25 am on Black Friday Mott was busy shopping 3she received a(n) 4 phone call, which came in from the nursing home where her mom lived. The nurse on the phone 5 her that her mom passed away. Mott just kind of 6, kneeling down and starting to cry uncontrollably.

    The lady came across Mott and, instead of passing by, she 7 and asked what was wrong. Then she kept Mott in a tight 8 until Mott was able to regain enough senses to get back on her feet. She even 9 Mott to the checkout line and asked if any shoppers had enough Christmas spirit to let the sad woman 10 in line. The lines immediately parted to let her 11. Mott, still 12, didn't think to ask the lady her name after paying her bill.

    In recent days, Mott's 13 to the woman had been a comfort so much that she longed to thank her 14. So she reached out and hoped people would help her find the lady.

    Stephanie, 42, realized that Mott had been looking for her. The most 15 thing she could think to do was to attend Mott's mother's 16. Once Mott 17 her, the two strangers-turned-friends wrapped each other in another big hug, tears running down. The family and other mourners 18 , probably feeling what I felt: It was reassuring to see such a warm, visible sign that the 19 meetings and random acts of kindness we often take for granted sometimes 20 a big difference.

    Last year, I was assigned to work at an office near my mother's house.1, I stayed with her for a month. During that time, I helped her out with the housework and contributed to the2.

    After a week, I started3the groceries were running out pretty quickly.4, I began observing my mother's daily routine for two weeks. To my5, I found she would pack a paper bag full of canned goods and6every morning at about nine. She took the food to the slums(贫民窟)and distributed it to street7.

    I asked around and8my mum was popular in the area. The kids looked up to her as if she were their own mother. Then it hit me－why didn't she want to tell me about what she'd been doing? Was she9that I would stop buying the groceries if I knew the truth?

    When she got home, I told her about my discovery and10she could react, I gave her a big hug and told her she didn't need to keep it a11from me. She told me that12of the children lived with an old lady in a makeshift home while others13on the streets. For years, my mum had been helping out by14whatever food she could15.I was so moved by how16she was. She used what was17for her to help others in need. And I was so18of her.

    I19to buy groceries for my mum. But now, I always add a(n)20bag for her other children.

    When I first met my new parrot, Chico, his wings had been cut short and he was stuck on the earth just like us humans. When the weather turned nice, I would take Chico outside. I 1 him on a branch of a tree, hoping to make him happier. At first he seemed confused. He walked back and forth on the branch looking 2. He didn't even flap his wings in an /a 3 to fly. Somehow he knew he was incapable.

    One day Chico got especially excited. He paced back and forth and made an 4 amount of noise. Then all of a sudden he stopped and let out an even louder scream. He started 5 flapping his wings for the first time ever—then he lifted off the 6 like a space shuttle! I was amazed and 7. Little did I know his feathers had been growing back, and Chico had been waiting until the moment was ripe for 8!

    Two days later Chico returned. First I tried to 9 him back with food, but he would not come near me. Then I took his 10 and put it away—still he would not come. Finally, I made him a firm promise that I would let him out every day if the weather was nice as long as he did come back. 11, he flew onto my shoulder.

    From that day on, whenever the weather was good I would let him 12 early and he would fly around and be back before dark. The routine lasted for two months 13 suddenly Chico became 14. The vet said that he had been infected with a disease from the pigeons in the 15. Within a few days he died.

    I was very sad. The 16 crossed my mind that if I had not set him free to fly, he would be still alive. But what 17 is there in being a bird if you can't fly?

    Chico made his first 18 for freedom on a late Monday afternoon in April. When will you make yours? You too can take a 19 when the conditions are right, knowing you too, in your own way, were built to fly. If you don't set yourself free, what will be the 20 of your life?