When I entered Berkeley, I hoped to earn a scholarship. Having been a Straight-A student, I believed I could 1 tough subjects and really learn something. One such course was World Literature given by Professor Jayne. I was extremely interested in the ideas he2 in class.

    When I took the first exam, I was 3 to find a 77, C-plus, on my test paper, 4English was my best subject. I went to Professor Jayne, who listened to my arguments but remained5.

    I decided to try harder, although I didn't know what that 6 because school had always been easy for me. I read the books more carefully, but got another 77. Again, I 7 with Professor Jayne. Again, he listened patiently but wouldn't change his 8.

    One more test before the final exam. One more 9to improve my grade. So I redoubled my efforts and, for the first time 10the meaning of the word "thorough". But my11 did no good and everything 12as before.

    The last hurdle(障碍) was the final. No matter what 13I got, it wouldn't cancel three C-pluses. I might as well kiss the 14goodbye.

    I stopped working head. I felt I knew the course material as well as I ever would. The night before the final, I even15 myself to a movie. The next day I decided for once I'd have 16with a test.

    A week later, I was surprised to find I got an A. I hurried into professor Jayne's office. He 17 to be expecting me. "If I gave you the As you 18, you wouldn't continue to work as hard."

    I stared at him, 19that his analysis and strategy were correct. I had worked my head 20, as I had never done before.

I was speechless when my course grade arrived: A-plus. It was the only A-plus given. The next year I received my scholarship. I've always remembered Professor Jayne's lesson: you alone must set your own standard of excellence.

    My son has been in hospital again, this time with an emergency admission. He was 1 in an ambulance from our local health centre to the children's hospital.

    In this country, all ambulances are 2 and manned by firemen and it was no 3 this time. While one fireman drove, the other was in the 4 with me and my son. He started 5 my son as soon as he was carried in, 6 him whether he'd prefer English or Portuguese.

    When my son 7 either of them, the fireman requested speaking English so that my son could 8 it with him. Of course, that gave him plenty of 9 to draw my son's attention to offering “tuition (学费)”—It was just a joke. The 10 of them chatted for the full hour. 11, he had been assigned the task of keeping my boy 12. He did so so skillfully that our son didn't 13 that I was tearing along with lights flashing.

    Actually, the back of an ambulance is a 14 place for me, and then I got sick and had to 15 the window a little. It was cold, so this absolutely wonderful guy took his own jacket off and 16 it around our son's head and neck

    These excellent guys 17 with us during check-in procedure, and finally 18 when I made sure that my husband was on his way in the car.

    I can't be 19 enough to the firemen. They're our firemen, and they are all 20, of course.

    Until a few years ago, I had what most people would call a good life. I had a 1 job that paid the bills; I had a good family that I was close to, and I had a place to live and money in the bank for trips and 2, and there was nothing much wrong in my life. 3, I was bored.

    I wanted more. I wanted to live 4 and loudly and make sharp memories instead of the 5 ones of everyday life. But I was 6. I had never had any 7 in myself. As a child, even buying something in a shop caused me a great deal of 8, and even though I did get better as I got older, I never quite 9 that childhood shyness.

    And I tried everything, like reading books about confidence. I also took tiny steps leading to my goals. But none of them really 10.

    So I 11 that the small steps weren't enough. I signed up for an internship (实习期的工作) of teaching English in Vietnam, an 12 huge step, one that 13 me as much as it excited me. And then the day came and I left my home and my loved ones. I was alone in a country where the food was 14 and the streets were unfamiliar. I had no idea whether I would be able to 15 everything that this very strange environment would 16 at me.

    I spent five months in Vietnam, teaching, exploring and laughing, I'd learnt to 17 myself, my skills, my abilities and my decisions. I returned home 18, even to myself, let alone to others. The 19 that had controlled my life and the self-doubt were 20.

    That one big chance changed everything for me, and in me.

    It's been five years since I came to America. The year before I arrived, every weekend I was woken up by "Spring River in the Flower Moon Night", 1 by my mother on a zheng.

    My mom was always enchanted(着迷)by the beauty of Chinese traditional music2she never had the chance to learn a(n)3. In 2009, she got a zheng from a friend and has been playing and 4 ever since. Sometimes when I miss her, I search for the songs she used to play on the Internet. I 5 expected to hear them here in Boston.

    Earlier this year, as I6 a new apartment, I met Zhantao Lin, the director of the Boston Chinese Musicians Association. At Lin's house, I heard the7of the erhu. Lin later8me to his music team and I heard the rehearse(排练)for a9this year. It was beautiful and powerful — it10 brought me back to my hometown in China.

    11is also part of Lin's daily routine. Besides performing, he passed on his love of the erhu to his12. I went to one of Lin's classes and met 9-year-old London Turk. I asked him13he chose to learn the erhu. "It's much14to learn than the violin," he said. Perhaps Turk hasn't really started to15the beauty of the erhu, but his mother has always loved the instrument. "There are so many beautiful things in Chinese16: the music, the language, and the art. So we just try our best to let him have a17to explore it," she said.

    I18my mom for giving me a chance to immerse(使沉浸)myself in the Chinese musical world. The music makes me feel relaxed. It can also19me of my homesickness. If you listen to one piece, you will20its uniqueness, power, and beauty.

It's my dream. I'm nine years old now, but have been1competitively since I was six. I love it, because it makes me feel good. I have a lot of2to use up and I can do it by just moving my legs.

One recent Sunday morning, my mum drove me to a 5 km race in Minnesota.

The starting line was3because there was also a 10 km race. That morning, I was running confidently and feeling4. At one point, I came to a5in the course. A woman who was directing us6the route I thought I was meant to take and told me to go the other way. I was confused, but I had to follow her7.

After a while I saw route directions for a 10 km race. I was worried, thinking I was8, but had to keep going. My body started to get 9. I said to myself, "You're almost there. Just keep10."

11I saw the finish line. I couldn't believe it. I didn't even know I was running a 10 km and I had12it. I didn't do this on purpose. It was a

13. I felt happy and proud. It was my first time running such a(n) 14 .

It has made me want to do more 10 km races. I hope my story 15 other people to run, too.