On that particular day after I finished giving my training course, I took a flight home. Upon 1 the plane, I noticed a boy who was around eight years old, sitting in the window seat 2 mine. Trying my best to be 3, I said “hello” and introduced myself, and he told me his name was Bradley. We started a 4 and within minutes, he took me into his confidence, saying, “This is the first time I have ever been on a plane. I'm a little bit 5.” I managed to 6 him.

    As we ascended (上升), he looked out of the window and started describing excitedly everything he was 7. Then he told me he needed to go to the bathroom, 8 I stood up to let him out into the aisle. It was then that I noticed the brace (支柱) on his legs. Bradley, 9 made his way down to the bathroom and back. Sitting back down, he 10, “I have muscular dystrophy(肌肉萎缩症), and so does my sister, who's in a 11 now.”

    As we descended (下降), he looked over, smiled, and spoke in a low, almost 12 voice, “You know, I was really 13 about who would sit beside me on the plane. I was afraid it would be someone who didn't want to 14 with me. I'm so 15 I sat beside you.”

    16 the whole experience later that night, I was reminded of the 17 of being open to the moment. Now when 18get(s) rough, I look out of the window, try to see what images the clouds are painting in the sky, 19 remember Bradley, the beautiful child who taught me that 20.

    In March 2007,I was recovering from an operation for breast cancer and going through a terrible time. I spent my days at home1everything to myself. Then one of my colleagues suggested2“Why don't you pick a couple of days and go to Ireland and escape?” I3the tip.

    The trip was fun, but when I got on the4to go home ,I wasn't feeling well. My plan was to sleep for the5journey, but the guy next to me looked good-hearted for a conversation6he had kind eyes.

    “I had an operation,” I said7'I had breast cancer.' 'He paused for a moment and said,“ What's wrong with that? Breast cancer is just a small8of you, like going to college or getting married.”

    I could feel my eyes9up with tears.

    “Don't think too much of your problem,” he said. “Instead, think about how many people you could help.”

    I had tears coming down my face, and said, “I can't10I'm crying in front of you, I don't11know you.”

    “Look, you have a12in life,” he said. “You can either13your things deep in your pockets and take them to your grave, or you can help someone.”

    I've always been a very14person, and aside from the few people who needed to know, I'd kept my illness secret. I didn't want to be15by my weakness.

    But this man, whose name was Ken Duane, showed me that my illness gave me16-because it gave me the ability to17someone else's load. I decided at that moment that I was going to try to help others by sharing my story18,in hopes of inspiring those who were in the same or similar situation. Later that year, I talked about my illness and my19with Ken on air.

    I am forever20that I never took a nap on that flight over the Atlantic.

    The boys had been shopping all morning and still weren't done. I1standing in the store.

    Just nine days before 2 Caitlin's house had burned to the ground. But Caitlin and her family all3 escaped.

    All the family 4 was what they were wearing and each other. The school was replacing their books and uniforms and now, two days after the 5all the girls in Caitlin's class were taking her shopping for clothes and shoes. The boys were shopping for6 like scarves, socks and hair ties, all the things they don't even 7

    After another hour, I had finished my8 and had helped the boys 9everything they wanted to get for Caitlin.

    When we got home, my brother brought everything he had10 for Caitlin to my room to make sure I thought she'd 11 everything before he12 them.

"I think she'll love everything," I said, and he smiled his big smile. I hugged him13 he tried to push me away. I was so14of him at that moment. He loves giving and making others 15 He's an honest kid who sees only the good in the world. I used to wonder how he could 16 see the good when there was so much bad, but now I 17why there is so much good18 him.

    He selflessly gave up all his 19for Caitlin. He had, through this act of a pure heart, got the true20 of Christmas.

    I was a single mother of four small children, working at a low-paid job. Money was always1, but we had a roof over our heads, food on the table, 2on our backs. It was Christmas time, we3 downtown to see the Christmas lights, and enjoyed a special dinner, 4 the big excitement for the kids was the fun of Christmas 5 at the market. They talked and planned for weeks ahead of time, 6 each other what they wanted for Christmas.

    The big day arrived and we started out early. I 7 each kid a twenty-dollar bill and asked them to8for presents. Then everyone scattered (散开).

    Back in the car driving home, everyone was9 about Christmas, laughing and asking each other about what they had10 . I found my younger daughter, Ginger, had only one small and flat bag with her. I could 11 enough through the plastic 12 to tell that she had bought candy bars— fifty-cents candy bars！ What did she13 with that twenty-dollar bill I had given her? I was so 14. After getting home, I called her into my bedroom and closed the door. This was15 she told me.

    "I was looking around and thinking of what to buy, and I 16 to read the little cards on one of the Salvation Army's 'Giving Trees'. One of the cards was 17a little girl, four years old, and all she 18 for Christmas was a doll with clothes and a hairbrush. So I took the card off the 19 and bought the doll for her. We have so much and she doesn't have anything."

    My anger 20 and I had never felt so rich as I did that day.

    I remember my first woodworking project－a small table. It was absolutely beautiful and I was so 1 of it that I looked upon it as if I had created a(an) 2. I could 3 wait to give it to Mother Winters, the administrator of our orphanage (孤儿院), as a gift. We called our female caretakers “mother”. It was the title that we used when 4 them.

    As the table legs were not 5 from the coating, we were instructed to wait a few days before taking them to the dormitories. But I was just so 6 that I couldn't wait. When I saw my chance, out the door I went like a 7, carrying my table and smiling from ear to ear.

    I was 8 it in my dormitory when Mother Winters entered. She walked over to the table and run her hand 9 the top.

    "It is very pretty," she told me. 10 when she touched the table leg, she noticed that it was still wet.

    "Were you 11 to bring this home?" she asked.

    "No, ma' am," I whispered with my head 12.

    She made me throw the table out. After she left, I got it back. There was 13 stuck all over the legs. I brushed and cried and brushed and cried, but it would not 14. I hid the table in my closet.

    A year later, I asked Mother Henderson, my houseparent (宿管员), to throw it away.

    Thirty years later at a reunion, I 15 that Mother Henderson was living nearby, so I drove up to see her. As I was about to leave, she asked me to come down to her 16 to help her get something important. I 17 her into a dark corner. She picked something up. 18 she turned around, I could see that she was holding a little table.

    Today, I look at that table with bittersweet memories but full of 19to Mother Henderson, who kept it for a young orphan who tried very hard to 20.

    I remember the first day when I saw Sally playing basketball. I watched in wonder as she struggled her way through the crowed of boys on the playground. She seemed so

    1 but she managed to shoot jump shots just over their heads and into the net. The boys always tried to stop her 2 nobody could.

    I began to notice Sally at other times, basketball in hand, playing 3. She practiced dribbling(运球) and 4 over and over.

    One day I asked Sally why she 5 so much. Without a moment of hesitation she said, "I want to go to college. The only way I can go is to get a 6. I'm going to play college basketball and I want to be the best one. I believe if I am 7 enough, I will get one. My father has told me that if the dream is big enough, the facts don't8. "

    I 9 her through those junior high years and into high school. Every week, she led her team to 10. One day in her senior year, I saw her sitting on the grass, her head

    11 in her arms. Slowly and quietly, I walk 12 and sat down beside her. "What's wrong?" I asked. "Oh, nothing," came a soft reply, "I am just too short. " The 13 told her that at 165 cm she would probably never play for a top team -- still less she would be 14 a scholarship -- so she should stop dreaming about college.

    I felt she was extremely 15. I asked her if she had talked to her dad about it yet. She told me that her father said those coaches were 16. They didn't understand the17 of a dream.

    The next year, Sally was seen by a college basketball coach after a big game. She was 18 offered a scholarship and 19 to the college education that she had 20and worked toward for all those years.

    It's true: if the dream is big enough, the facts don't count.