My father enjoys bike riding. Ever since I was little, I have always loved going biking with my dad.1, as I became a teenager, other things began to draw my 2 . It became important to do things with friends3 I saw my dad every evening at home. Why did I have to 4 my Sundays to all-day bike trips with him, too? If my indifference(冷漠的) hurt him, my father kept5, but he would always let me know when he was planning a bike trip6I wanted to come with him.

    It was a Sunday morning, and I was in low 7. Two of my friends had gone to the movies without inviting me. Just then my father8my room.“It is a beautiful day. Want to go for a 9, today, Beck?” “Leave me alone!” I impatiently10. Those were the last words I said to him before he left the house that 11.

    Several hours later, the police called us, informing(告知) us that Dad had a traffic 12. My father's injuries were serious. It 13 several days before he could eventually(最后) speak. Beside his bed，I held his hand gently，14 of hurting him. “Daddy… I am sorry…” “ It's okay, my dear, I'll be okay.”

     “No,” I said, “I 15 what I said to you that day. You know, that morning?”

     “My dear, I don't 16anything about that day, not before, during or after the accident. I remember kissing you good night the night before, though.” He 17 a weak smile.

    I felt regretful for my thoughtless remark(话语)，for I 18wanted him to leave me alone in my heart. My teacher once told me that 19 have immeasurable power. They can hurt or they can heal. And we all have the 20 to choose our words. I intend to do that very carefully from now on.

    Miss Bessie was only five feet tall, but she was the only woman strict enough to make me read Beowulf. I shall never forget the day she 1 me and persuaded me to read it.

    “But Miss Bessie,” I complained, “I ain't much2 it.”

    “Boy,” she said, “how dare you say 'ain't' to me! I've taught you better than that.”

    “Miss Bessie,” I responded, “I'm trying to be the 3of the football team, and if I go around saying 'it isn't' and 'they aren't', my friends are going to laugh at me.”

    “Boy,” she said, “you want to be the leader4 you have courage. But do you know what5 takes courage? It's 6to lower your standards to those of the crowd.”

    Then, I 7 saying “it isn't” and “they aren't, '' and I 8 became the leader, without losing my friends' 9

    Born in 1895 in poverty, Miss Bessie grew up in Athens, Alabama. She never attended university because she could not 10 it. In the local high school, she11a lot about Shakespeare and the great importance of12“What you put in your head,” she once said, “can never be13 by anybody.”

    During her14 44-year career （职业生涯）, Miss Bessie taught hundreds of youngsters. I remember her now with 15and affection. Miss Bessie noticed things that had nothing to do with schoolwork, but were important to a youngster's 16 Once a few classmates 17 my worn-out overcoat, and as I was leaving school, Miss Bessie18 me,” Carl, never worry about what you don't have. Just make the most of what you do have —a brain.

    When Miss Bessie died in 1980, hundreds of her former 19mourned. Many of them20 by Miss Bessie's example, became excellent teachers.

    I was walking around in a Big Bazar store doing a shopping, when I saw a Cashier talking to a boy who couldn't have been more than 5 or 6 years old. The Cashier said, "I'm sorry, 1you don't have enough money to buy this doll." Then the little boy turned to me and asked, "Uncle, are you sure I don't have enough money?"

    I 2 his cash and replied, "You know that you don't have enough money to buy the doll, my dear." The little boy was still holding the doll in his hand. Finally, I walked 3 him and I asked him 4 he wished to give this doll to. "It's the doll 5 my sister loved most and wanted so much. I wanted to gift her for her Birthday. I have to give the doll to my mommy so that she can give it to my sister when she goes there." His eyes were so 6 while saying this.

    "My Sister has gone to be with God. Daddy says that Mommy is going to see God very soon too, so I thought that she could take the doll with her to give it to my sister." My heart 7 stopped. The little boy 8 me and said, "I told daddy to tell mommy not to go 9. I need her to wait until I come back from the mall."

    Then he looked again at the 10with sad eyes, very quietly. I quickly11 for my wallet and said to the boy. "Suppose we check again, just 12 you do have enough money for the doll?" I added some of my money to his, without him seeing and we started to count it. There was enough for the doll and even some13money.

    The little boy said, "Thank you God for giving me enough money! I asked last night God to 14 I had enough money to buy this doll. He heard me! I also wanted to have enough money to buy a white rose for my mommy, but I didn't 15 to ask God for too much. But He gave me enough to buy the doll and a white rose. "

    I finished my shopping in a totally different 16from when I started. I couldn't get the little boy out of my mind. Then I remembered a local newspaper article two days ago, which mentioned a 17 man in a truck, who hit a car occupied by a young woman and a little girl. The little girl died right away, and the mother was left in a 18 state.

    The love that the little boy had for his mother and his sister is 19, to this day, hard to imagine. And in a 20 of a second, a drunk driver had taken all this away from him.

    Steve was a seventh grader, a big boy, looking more like a teenager than a 12-year-old. Yet, he went unnoticed-- he had been 1every examination since first grade—until Miss Wilma.

    In the middle of the first semester of school, the entire seventh grade was2for basic skills.

    “You all did pretty well," Miss Wilma told the class after going over the3 "except for one boy. And it4my heart to tell you this, but…" she5 ， “the smartest boy in the seventh grade is failing my class." Steve6his eyes an carefully examined his fingertips.

    After that, Steve still wouldn't do his homework. Even if Miss Wilma7punished him, he remained8.

    “Steve, please! I care about you!” 9, Steve got it! “Someone CARES ABOUT ME?!”

    One Monday a couple of weeks later, Miss Wilma gave a10on the weekend homework. Steve11through the test and was the first to hand in his paper. With a look of12 ， Miss Wilma 1ook his paper and began to look it over.

    Miss Wilma's face was in13shock! She glanced up at Steve, then14, then up. The smartest boy in the seventh grade had just passed his first test!

    From that moment, nothing was the same for Steve. He discovered that not only could he remember and understand15, but he could translate what he learned into his life. He became16.

    After high school, Steve enlisted in the Navy, and he had a(n)17military career. During his naval years, he inspired many young people who might not have 18 themselves without him. A19took place within the heart of a boy all because of one teacher, who 20 .

    I believe that life's toughest lessons are best learned through personal experience. Throughout my childhood, my grandmother 1 me with unconditional love but always stressed, "You're not 2 than anyone else, but you're just as good as anyone. Treat others with 3, and you would earn respect 4.

    However, I never really 5 it until I was seventeen and got a summer job as a janitor. As I 6 floors and toilets, I watched people walk right by me and ignore my 7. This made me feel angry and wonder why they treated me so poorly.

    When I 8 to my grandmother, she offered me some words of 9 and reminded me never to forget the feeling of being "10" and to do the best job, because it was still my work, 11 which I should take pride. She added that it would make me a better man someday.

    Make me a better man someday? She must be 12, I thought to myself. But I needed the job to 13 college and there were few other jobs available, 14 I bit my tongue and kept on working as best as I could for the 15 of the summer.

    Today, when asked what job helped prepare me to gain the 16 of a key university, I tell people it was my summer job cleaning restrooms that 17 me as a man and, down the road, as an educator.

    As you can see, 18 can only be understood by walking in a lot of different shoes. So I suggest students 19 of their comfort zones and get deeply involved in different work and community experience. It's essential for people to find 20 in every person, no matter who they are or what they do for a living.

Why We Should Record Travel Moments

On a rainy summer day, I took a train to Switzerland and trekked through the mud to a medieval fortress high atop a cliff. After twisting through its dimly lit corridors, I finally {#blank#}1{#/blank#} (arrive) at the main viewpoint of Cave of the Fairies: a plunging 77m waterfall that shoots from underground into a sparkling pool. As the waterfall wet my jacket, I closed my eyes and took out my phone {#blank#}2{#/blank#} (record) the rush of dreamy reality before me.

I had come in search of a sound, not a sight.

Throughout my travels, I've found myself {#blank#}3{#/blank#} (collect) sound recordings the way other people collect souvenirs. Just as some travellers take photos of landscapes or their food, I started doing this as an artistic way to help me remember some of the most interesting details of my trips.

Environmental scientist Lauren Kuehne said, "I think that once you start to listen, once you actually start to listen, you start to appreciate how much {#blank#}4{#/blank#} (big) the world is."

This attitude {#blank#}5{#/blank#} (echo) by Samara Kester, a retired emergency medicine physician who now serves on QPI's board. "A photograph is two dimensions. {#blank#}6{#/blank#} you are looking at something you're seeing, it's maybe 180 degrees, maybe 270 degrees. Sound is 360 degrees. You hear it all around you." Kester explained {#blank#}7{#/blank#} teaching herself to be a better listener has not only expanded her sense of travel, but helped her relive her travels once she's back home. "You immerse {#blank#}8{#/blank#} in that place again. You recreate those memories and therefore recreate the feelings you had, {#blank#}9{#/blank#} are very hard to express clearly. You can re-experience that and that will send you to where you were before."

Months later back in my L.A. home, I find myself popping on my headphones and listening back to the rush of falling water inside Cave of the Fairies. When I close my eyes, I {#blank#}10{#/blank#} feel the spray of water against my skin, the sense of letting my ears lead me on a faraway adventure. Mentally, I'm right back there — if only for a moment.