Last Christmas while staying with my parents, I 1 across some old love letters that my parents wrote to each other. These letters were all piled up in a basket, dirty and 2 with dust.3 to read and sort them, I asked them if I could take the letters back to my Illinois home. They agreed.

    As I carefully opened each letter, all of them delicate with age, I discovered a new page 4unknown to me in this private chapter of my parents' lives.

    My father used to 5 in the army. So his letters were full of frontline  6 of the things about the war. Each of my mother's letters was marked 7 her 1944 dark red lipstick kiss. I was 8 to these letters like a magnet (磁铁).

    Just six weeks after our Christmas visit, Daddy became very 9and was hospitalized. This time, he was fighting a 10 kind of war. As I sat by his bedside, we discussed the 11 . He told me how much receiving those lipstick-kissed letters had 12to him when he had been so far from home.

    It so happened that the next day would be February 14. From the 13letters I chose the card my father had sent Mother in 1944 and brought it to my father's bedside.

    At his bedside, I joked with him, saying 14, “Today is Valentine's Day, don't you want to send Mother a present?” He became more 15when I handed him the old 16. He carefully opened it and took out the card, and when he 17 it, his eyes were filled with tears.

    My father, in a voice tight with18read the loving19he'd sent to my mother fifty-six years earlier. And this time, he could read it to her 20.

    My kids and I were heading into the supermarket over the weekend. On the way ,we spotted a man holding a piece of paper that said, “ 1 my job. Family to Feed.”

    At this store, a 2 like this is not normal. My 10-year-old noticed him and make a 3 on how bad it must be to have to stand 4 in the cold wind.

    In the store, I asked each of my kids to 5 something they thought our “friend” there would 6. They got apples, a sandwich and a bottle of juice. Then my 17-year-old suggested giving him a 7 I thought about it. We were 8 on cash ourselves, but… well, sometimes 9 from our need instead of our abundance is 10 what we need to do! All the kids 11 something they could do away with for the week.

    When we handed him the bag of12 he lit up and thanked us with 13 eyes. When I handed him the gift card, saying he could use it for 14his family might need, he burst into tears.

    This has been a wonderful 15 for our family. For days the kids have been looking for others we can 16! Things would have played out so 17 if I had simply said, “No, we really don't have 18 to give more.” Stepping out not only helped a brother in19 it also gave my kids the 20 taste of helping others. It'll go a long way with them.

    Alia Baker is a librarian in Iraq. Her library used to be a 1 place for all who loved books and liked to share knowledge. They 2 various matters all over the world. When the war was near, Alia was 3 that the fires of war would destroy the books, which are more 4 to her than mountain of gold. The books are in every language－new books, ancient books, 5 a book on the history of Iraq that is seven hundred years old.

    She had asked the government for 6 to move the books to a. 7place, but they refused. So Alia took matters into her own hands. 8, she brought books home every night, 9 her car late after work. Her friends came to 10 her when the war broke out. Anis who owned a restaurant 11 to hide some books. All through the 12. Alia, Anis, his brothers and neighbors took the books from the library, 13 them over the seven-foot wall and 14 them in the restaurant. The books stayed hidden as the war 15. Then nine days later, a fire burned the 16 to the ground.

    One day, the bombing stopped and the17 left. But the war was not over yet. Alia knew that if the books were to be safe, they must be 18 again while the city was 19. So she hired a truck to bring all the books to the houses of friends in the suburbs（郊区）. Now Alia waited for the war to end and 20 peace and a new library.

    For a long time Gabriel didn't want to be involved in music at all. In his first years of high school, Gabriel would look pityingly at the music students, 1 across the campus with their heavy instrument cases, 2at school for practice hours 3 anyone else had to be there .He swore to himself to 4music, as he hated getting to school extra early.   

    5 ， one day, in the music class that was 6 of his school's standard curriculum, he was playing idly (随意地) on the piano and found it7 to pick out tunes. With a sinking feeling, he realized that he actually8 doing it. He tried to hide his 9 pleasure from the music teacher，who had 10 over to listen. He might not have done this particularly well,11 the teacher told Gabriel that he had a good 12 and suggested that Gabriel go into the music store­room to see if any of the instruments there 13him. There he decided to give the cello (大提琴) a 14.When he began practicing，he took it very 15. But he quickly found that he loved playing this instrument, and was 16 to practicing it so that within a couple of months he was playing reasonably well.

    This 17 ， of course, that he arrived at school early in the morning，18 his heavy instrument case across the campus to the 19 looks of the non ­ musicians he had left 20.

    It was the last day of the final examination in a large eastern university. On the steps of one building, a group of engineering seniors gathered, discussing the exam due to begin in a few 1. On their faces was confidence. This was their last exam before they went on to 2 and jobs.

    Some talked of jobs they already had; others talked of jobs they 3 get. With all this assurance of four years of college, they felt ready and able to take 4 of the world.

    The approaching exam, they knew, would be a(n) 5 task, because the professor had said they could bring 6 books or notes they wanted, requesting only that they did not 7 each other during the test.

    After they entered the classroom8, the professor passed out the papers. And smiles 9 on the students' faces as they noted there were only five essay-type questions.

    Three hours had passed 10 the professor began to collect the papers. The students no longer looked confident. On their faces was a frightened expression. Papers in hand, no one spoke as the professor faced the class.

    He looked at the 11 faces before him, and then asked, "How many completed all five questions?" 12 a hand was raised.

    "How many answered four?" Still no hands.

    "Three? Two?" The students moved restlessly in their seats.

    "One, then? Certainly somebody finished 13."But the class remained silent.

    The professor put down the papers. "That is exactly what I 14," he said. "I just want to impress upon you that, 15 you have completed four years of engineering, there are still many things about the 16 you don't know. These questions you couldn't answer are relatively 17 in everyday practice. "Then smiling, he added, "You will all 18 this course, but remember — even if you are now college graduates, your education has just 19."

    The years have 20 the name of this professor, but not the lesson he taught.

    When the dirty orange cat turned up in the prison yard, I was one of the first to go out there and pet it. I hadn't1a cat or a dog in over 20 years. It was graceful to feel him and know that I was2the life of another creature. I believe that caring for something or someone3is what makes us human.

    Over the next few days, I watched other prisoners4to the cat. They stood around talking and taking5petting the cat. These were guys you wouldn't usually find talking to each other. Several times I saw an officer in the group—not forcing people away,6just watching and seeming to7it.

    Bowls of milk and water appeared, along with bread,8placed under the edge of the dustbin to9the seagulls(海鸥)from getting it. The cat was obviously in pretty bad10. One prisoner brought out his small11, and trimmed(修剪)for him.

    People said, "That cat came to the right place. He's getting12like a king." This was true. But as I watched, I was also thinking about what the13was doing for us.

    There's a lot of talk about what's14with prisons in America. We need more15or treatment of various kinds. Some even talk about making prisons more kind, but I think what we really need is a chance to16kindness ourselves. Not receive it, but17it.

    They've taken him away now—18to a comfortable home—but it did my heart good to see the effect he had19me and the men here. He didn't have a PhD, he wasn't a psychologist, but by simply saying, "I need some help here," he did something important for us. He needed us, and we need to be20. I believe we all do.