One summer, Aunt Betta and Uncle Bill invited me to travel with them back home to Pennsylvania. I had never been1Los Angeles and was eager to meet our relatives.

    Our first night, we drove through the desert, and then through roads cut through hills. The next day we went through the Rocky Mountains. It was2driving up long inclines（斜坡） with abrupt U-shape turns on the steep hillsides, then driving3slowly with great caution. Beyond Colorado, we drove through miles of 4, where I saw actual food being grown. I5some of the crops.

    In one small town we passed through, Aunt Betta decided I needed new6and took me to a country 7. I was used to8dresses and skirts. Now I had my first pair of jeans, a flannel shirt, shorts and a T-shirt. I loved them all.

    9 we reached our destination. Uncle Bill's aunt had a perfect little two-story house. The first thing I 10was a bed in a cute little room — for me! I looked forward to that. It would be like sleeping in a dollhouse. In the backyard, I saw red things11the back fence. Uncle Bill's uncle said, "I think you never ate a 12tomato in L.A." I hadn't. He 13picked one for me.

    I met all my new aunts, uncles and cousins. My cousins taught me how to do cartwheels (恻手翻) in the big front yard. Country people have more14, I thought.

    All the adults cried when we 15, but I took home all the 16of everything I'd seen. Back in L.A., my lungs hurt when I took a deep breath. I 17 the fresh air. I dreamed of homegrown tomatoes. My country clothes seemed out of 18, but I wore them anyway.

    I was two weeks late starting19, but I told my teachers only that I'd been in Pennsylvania and decided to 20all the rest to myself. If only they could have experienced everything that I did!

   One random act of kindness can make someone's day, but a man in Florida knows a good 1 isn't a one-time thing.

    After spending three months in and out of the hospital with numerous health issues, Donald Austin had his 2 partially cut off. He was relieved to finally be able to go home after just four days recovering from the 3. When he reached his porch, though, the 4 disappeared.

Donald thought he'd be able to 5 up the steps to the front door on crutches (拐杖）, but he found he was too weak to keep his 6 He had to sit in the wheelchair, but the wheelchair was too heavy for his wife, Jennifer Austin, to lift up the steps, even when his mom pitched in. Donald ended up on the ground, the family feeling totally 7.

    Just then, a car caught the family's eye. It had driven past 8 was slowly circling back. The stranger, Steven Smith, 9 and asked if he could help. 10, the family watched Smith lift Donald inside and lay him 11 on a couch.

    But the good man knew there was 12 to do.

    Smith 13 this wasn't the only time Donald would need to climb those 14 ? So the next day，Smith came back and asked if he could build a ramp(坡道）in front of the house. With his dad and a couple more 15 , Smith set up a ramp 16 the steps to make the house 17 to the wheelchair. The act of kindness brought the family to18?

    “This stranger has saved the day for us 19 within 24 hours. He also 20 our spirits that had become increasingly dimmed over the difficult months,” Jennifer wrote on Facebook.

    My father was a self-taught mandolin player. He was one of the best string instrument players in our town. He could not1 music, but if he heard a tune a few times, he could play it. I loved to sing, but I never learned how to 2 the mandolin. This is something I 3 to this day.

    Dad loved to play the mandolin for his 4 as he knew we enjoyed singing, and hearing him play. He was always there,5his time and efforts to see that his family had enough in their life. I had to mature into a man and have children of my own 6 I realized how much he had sacrificed.7played the mandolin like my father. He could8your soul with the tones. He seemed to shine when he was playing. You could see his9 in his ability to play so well for his family.

    One day, he was involved in an 10.On this particular day, Dad got the first finger of his left hand 11 by the machine. The doctor who operated on the finger could not 12 it, which did affect his 13 to play the mandolin.

    After the accident, Dad felt that he could not play 14.When I came home and asked him to play, he would make15 for why he couldn't play.

In August of 1993 my father was diagnosed with16lung cancer. About a week before his death, we asked Dad if he would play the mandolin for us. He said17.He knew it would probably be the last time he could play for us. When I looked around, there was not a18eye in the family. We saw before us a quiet man with an inner19 Dad was always doing something he had done all his life20.

    As my husband, Doug, stood on the busy New York city street to stop a taxi, I tried to protect my daughter from the cold December wind and rain. I put my head down to kiss her tiny face.

    1 and wet, my husband gave up his attempt to nag down a taxi. I knew the 2.Just after her first birthday, we were told our daughter Katie has a 3brain illness. Since that moment, Doung and I felt like runners in a marathon race where the finish line kept4 . We knew Katie was runn.ng out of 5. It had taken months before we finally had a name for the 6 ， but we were told only a few specialists in the world knew how to7 it. Now, as we finally found a brilliant doctor to 8 our girl, we were in a strange9 in the cold rain.

    Just at the moment, a middle-aged woman pulled over and said, “Pardon me? May I offer you a(n)10?”

    Before we could say anything, she continued, “It's really no11for me. Just get in.”

    It was then that I noticed her thick Irish accent, which 12me up like hot soup. We simply said, “Thanks! Roosevelt Hospital, please,” as we got in her car for the ride.

    “Are you going13the baby?” she asked us.

    I nodded my head, holding back my 14.

    At the hospital, we 15her a dozen times for the ride. As the woman hugged me, I16her face was wet with tears. She promised to17for us before she left.

    After three more visits to New York and two more 18surgeries (手术)，Katie is cured. But the 19 of the Irish Angel still rang as a constant reminder of a tiny ray of light that appeared in our20 days.

    It was the start of another summer session at the university. I was enrolled to(报名) a psychology class. It was extremely difficult to get into, 1the class was very popular. Lots of students were put on a2list but I was lucky and succeeded on my first 3.

    I had enrolled in this class not only because of the subject matter but also because of the professor. I had heard 4things about her. She had published many books which had been translated into many languages. It would be a(n) 5 to learn from her. And I had a(n) 6.

    Today was the first day of class. The professor entered the 7 lecture hall and made her way to the front. She faces us, quieted us and 8 around. Could she see me? She was my mother.

    It was 9 seeing my mother giving a lecture. 10, we had just had breakfast together that morning and talked about the usual mother/daughter things. Could I get past the 11 that the professor was my mother and 12 learn something?

    My mother first gave an overview of what we could 13 in the following eight weeks. Then she started the lecture. I listened and took notes and somewhere 14 the way my mother turned into a professor. She was so good a professor that I got completely15 in the subject matter and forgot that my mother was the person lecturing.

    That summer school session passed quickly. Did the other students in the class ever learn my secret? Well, yes they did. Did I 16 it? No. But 17 else did. On the last day of the session, the professor asked me to stand. She 18me, telling that the class that she was very proud of me.

    My mother, who had so many important 19 in her life, was telling her students that the thing she was proudest of was me! Over the years I heard her lecture many times but I have20been prouder as her daughter than I was that day when she introduced me to the class.

    Growing up in Kenya was amazing because I learned so much, though the poverty and lack of resources were sometimes frustrating. I knew I didn't have much, but I was 1.

    There was only one thing I wasn't happy with: 2. I wanted to go to high school and university. I had the drive, the will and the grades, 3 I didn't have the resources. Even 4 things like food, water and shelter weren't readily available. Young people in poverty have little or no 5 to high schools and universities. Where I lived, it was challenging 6 someone helped. When I left primary school, I was in the same 7 as many other poor disadvantaged youth. 8, during that year, a charitable high school for girls, Starehe Girls Centre, was 9 and I received a scholarship. Today, I am 10 record as being the first student to be enrolled in this school.

    In 2006, my school 11 The Global Give Back Circle, a not-for-profit organization for 12 disadvantaged girls to complete their education and gain 13 skills. After graduating from high school, I was given access to a nine-month IT course. 14, its give-back attitude had taught us to not only care about ourselves but other people. With this in mind, 10 of us created a website called "Hey Sister, Get Clued-Up". Through this educational website, aimed at networking 10,000 African 15 worldwide, all Sisters commit to sending information to their villages. This can be to 16 financial freedom, advance information  17  to health issues and provide knowledge about social networking behavior.

    "Hey Sister, Get Clued-Up" is only 18  to those girls who can access the Internet, which highlights the huge challenge in 19 the divide between the haves and have-nots. But our plan is that these girls will  20 what they learn to other girls through the "power of their voice".