One evening after reading a story entitled "A Lady",I began to recall an important moment in my life.It was simple but so precious that it has1inside my mind for years.

    It was a very cold winter evening when a friend of mine got seriously2and was rushed to Westchester Medical Center,where she stayed unconscious for quite a while.Finally she was3.A friend and I decided to4 her,so we bought some flowers and were on our way.After quickly parking the car and signing in,we reached her 5but only a few minutes were6with her.Pretty soon after our7we were asked to leave by the nurses.

    We headed out to the car8did we know that we had to pay for parking.We had no money aside from a spare dollar or two9from our lunch money that day.We had no idea what to do,so I10to pay with whatever money we had,11of course,I was way off.

    A very sweet-hearted woman cleared her throat and said "Excuse me" in order to catch my12.She handed me a $20 bill.I13that she should give me her14and address and I will15pay her back.She refused.I thanked her for her16and told her how much it was appreciated.she turned to me and17with one sentence,“Thank you;being able to help you makes me happy,too.”Her words were so unusual that I was very18to hear that.

    What she did might be considered a small act of19but it is something I will never forget because it taught me that helping others could20both the givers and the receivers.

Little Bit

    "Meow, meow, meow," is what I heard as I walked through the alley. I approached the noise and observed a tail sticking out from under a piece of wood Under the wood was a 1 black and white cat I picked him up and 2 he must be freezing to death 3 home with the cat held in my jacket.

    My new best friend, who soon became known as Little Bit, received his name because he was almost4when I held him in my hands. He stood about five inches tall. Little Bit's small size had a great advantage—he 5 perfectly in the pocket of my jacket, which made 6 him everywhere very easy.  Any time I was home, he wouldn't leave my 7 He was always  8 to me. When I fell asleep at night,he would always rolling up around my head to ensure that I was warm.

    Unfortunately, I grew up. My teenage life 9 my relationship with Little Bit. I lived at such a fast10 that I stopped making time for him. My free time was spent with my friends instead. I would come in the house on my phone and not 11 him at all. His meows became an annoyance to me, but it wasn't his fault that he wanted my 12 back.

    Time had caused a13 to Little Bit. His body began shocking down and by the time I  realized 14 was wrong with him, he had already lost his balance. He lay there and looked at me, and 15 this day I still remember the 16 look in his bright green eyes. I took him to the vet (兽医 ), but there was nothing he could do The last time I17 him he wasn't he same tiny cat I had found ten years before. Little Bit filled my arms and he was put to sleep that day.

    Little Bit's 18 made me realize how much he meant to me.He was always there for me when I needed him. I 19 our last years together and I feel sorry for not always being there for him.I will always20 the special memories we made.

    I was having a period of bad health. I had one operation after another. I was falling 1 faster than the doctors could put me back together. But I just couldn't bear the operation, the hospital stay, the long recovery and the physical therapy（康复治疗）. I told my doctor I was going to try 2 else.

    I'd discovered that walking gave me a little 3. So I started walking. The first day, my wife 4 off our steep Silver Lake hill to a flat street. She got me out of the car, and I walked about two blocks 5 asking to be taken home. The next day, I walked about four 6.

    Slowly, feeling a little 7 every day, I began to walk a mile or more. I even 8some hills to my route. I became interested in the network of public stairways around Silver Lake I made a 9 of it and walked every public staircase in Silver Lake. That went pretty well, so I 10 onto Echo Park. I was feeling better, so I kept going. The search finally 11 “Secret Stairs: A Walking Guide to the Historic Staircases of Los Angeles' a book 12 in the spring of 2010. By then, I had 13. I'd been walking at least an hour a day for three years. My life 14 returned to normal.

    In three years of walks, I've met dozens of people who'd had 15 experiences of rebirth or recovery. One man told me he'd lost 80 pounds walking the secret stairs and was dating for the first time in a decade. One woman told me she'd 16 knee operation. Another told me she'd been 17 to start ballroom dancing again.

    All I'd 18 from the walks was relief from pain. What I got was 19, community and a whole new experience of my city. Out of the car, on my feet and moving at walking pace, I 20 Los Angeles for the first time.

    It's a Friday morning in Boston, which1Dr. Jim O'Connell is making his rounds. He might be more2inside an exam room, but that's not where his patients are. Dr. Jim O'Connell is one of a handful of physicians making house calls to the3in the city.

    More than 550, 000 Americans are homeless, and many have health problems but no4to cure. O'Connell and his team are doing something about it. On a daily routine, they5about 700 regular patients. "I feel like I'm a country doctor in the middle of the city." he said.

    O'Connell began to do this 33 years6, when he was at Harvard Medical School and was7to be a one-year position as the founding physician of a new health-care program for Boston's homeless. That turned into a 33-year8at the Boston Health Care for the Homeless Program, one of the country's largest of its kind. O'Connell9about everything, from stitches (缝补)for an arm to surgery for the soul. If patients can't be treated on the street, he finds them a treatment bed at the respite facility(休息治疗区), a place for patients10are too sick to be on the streets11not ill enough for a hospital stay.

    "12I had been taught to do—go fast, be efficient—was13when you take care of homeless people." When you see somebody outside, you get them a cup of coffee and sit with them. Sometimes it14six months or a year of offering a sandwich or a cup of coffee before someone would start to talk to me. But15they engage(参与), they'll come to you any time because of16you. When asked about how his life might have17, if he had become a highly paid physician, O'Connell said, "I18think about it anymore."

    Some things are far more valuable than money. Just ask Dr. Jim O'Connell who19 everything from patients who have nothing20to give.

    Frank was walking down the 6th Street on a hot sunny day when he saw smoke coming out of the street. He could 1 the smoke, and it was getting2. Seeing the smoke coming out of a storm drain(雨水沟), Frank called the fire department 3. “The storm drain is 4 fire!” he said. The fire department asked for his whereabouts and he said he was near the 6th street. They said they would be right there to investigate the situation. Frank needn't to go anywhere, so he waited for the 5 to arrive. He was curious what could be burning beneath the street. As far as he knew, there wasn't anything beneath the street 6 concrete(混凝土). And everyone knows that concrete doesn't 7.

    A fire truck arrived a few 8 later. “Are you the man who 9?” asked the driver. “Yes.” Frank answered. By now Frank could not only smell the 10 but also hear crackling sounds, just like wood burning. The firemen didn't seem to11it an emergency. “What do you think it could be?” Frank asked the driver. “Oh, we know what it is. We have to 12 a problem like this every few months. It's the homeless people in their 13.”

    Homeless people have been living under the streets for years.14 their knowledge of the storm drain system, they 15 their own “houses” beneath the streets. These living areas have tables, mattresses, chairs, and sofas. The settlers often “borrow” electricity by connecting to a live wire above ground to 16 their own lights and even TVs underground. Either this 17 electricity or a cigarette can cause an occasional fire.

    Frank watched 18  some firemen lifted a manhole cover (井盖) and went beneath the street with a fire hose (消防软管). Then a few minutes later, the 19 smoke turned white. Shortly afterward, the firemen reappeared with a 20 person who seemed to have just been woken up.

My father was a restaurant owner. My name is Vincent Lim. I'm a chef and restaurant owner. Running a Chinese restaurant is one of the hardest and most1 things in my life.

When we first arrived in Australia, my dad2 a Chinese restaurant. I would go there on a3 basis to help him out. And slowly I developed my4 for cooking. The hard work that my dad put into Chinese food makes me feel so proud that I am lucky enough to learn from a5

The first dish that I ever learned to cook was the fried rice, which is the easiest but also the 6 one to get right. From years of experience, I can7 you the difference between a good fried rice just from the feel and from the smell, without even taking a bite.

To lots of Chinese immigrants like us, the restaurant isn't just a business. It's a sense of 8 . The wok hei (锅气)9 every ingredient in the wok, producing an appealing smell. The fragrances of the food10 the air and lingered around so much longer. Those memories, they become nostalgic (乡愁). The sense of home is what makes a11 good dish taste.

In 2017, my dad passed away. I reaized that my love of cooking dishes from my childhood. I 12 the restaurant that I own today. Cooking was a13 way to my dad. I wanted to 14 everything that he taught me. Cooking15 all the hard work and memories that we had.