I went to a group activity, “Sensitivity Sunday” which was to make us more1the problem faced by disabled people, We were asked to “ 2a disability” for several hours one Sunday. Some members 3chose the wheel chair, Others wore sound-blocking earplugs(耳塞)or blindfolds .

    Just sitting in the wheelchair was a4experience, I had never considered before how5 it would be to use one .As soon as I sat down my6 made the chair begin to roll ,Its wheel were not7Then I wondered where to put my 8.It took me quite a while to get the metal footrest into 9 ,I took my first uneasy look at what was to be my only means of10for several hours, For disabled people, Using a wheelchair is not a temporary(临时的) 11 

    I tried to find a12position and thought it might be at ease, 13a little nice to be 14around for a while. Looking around, I 15 I would have to handle the thing myself! My hands started to ache as I 16the heavy wheels, I came to know that controlling the 17 of the wheelchair was not going to be a (an)18task.

    My wheelchair experiment was soon 19. It made a deep impression on me. A few hours of “disability” gave me only a taste of the 20 , both physical and mental, that disabled people must overcome.

When I was about five years old, I used to watch a bird in the skies of southern Alberta from the Blackfoot Blood Reserve in northern Montana where I was born.I loved this bird; I would 1 him for hours. He would 2 effortlessly in that gigantic sky, or he would come down and light on the 3 and float there beautifully.Sometimes when I watched him, he would not make a sound and liked to move 4 into the grasses.We called him meksikatsi, which in the Blackfoot language 5 "pink-colored feet"; meksikatsi and I became very good friends.

    The bird had a very particular significance to me 6  I desperately wanted to be able to fly too.I felt very much as if I was the kind of person who had been born into a world where 7  was impossible. And most of the things that I8  about would not be possible for me but would be possible only for other people.

    When I was ten years old, something unexpected 9  my life suddenly. I found myself become an 10  child in a family I was not born into; I found myself in a 11  position that many native Americans find themselves in, living in a city that they do not understand at all, not in another culture but 12 two cultures.

A teacher of the English language told me that meksikatsi was not called meksikatsi, even though that is what 13 people have called that bird for thousands of years.Meksikatsi, he said, was really "duck".I was very 14 with English.I could not understand it.First of all, the bird did not look like "duck", and when it made a 15 , it did not sound like "duck", I was even more 16 when I found out that the meaning of the verb "to duck" came from the bird.

    As I 17  to understand English better, I understand that it made a great deal of 18 , but I never forgot that meksikatsi made a different kind of meaning.I19  that languages are not just different words for the same things but totally different 20 , totally different ways of experiencing and looking at the world.

    My father's only child, I was an obvious candidate to be his fishing companion.

    My most vivid1 of our fishing outings are those at Lily Lake in the Sierra Nevada Mountains. By the age of 6, I'd 2 my first lesson in fish behavior: fish like an 3 breakfast, which means crawling from our sleeping bags 4We climbed the winding road to the lake,5 the wooden footbridge, built above a dam. A path led us to the6tied up at the water edge.

    My father rowed us through the dark green channels. We spoke7 and the only other sounds were the liquid dipping of the oars（橹）and an occasional bird cry.8a promising-looking spot, we baited our hooks,9 our lines, and waited. For those few hours, the lake was ours.

My father and I had an uneasy 10His behavior had too often embarrassed me. But on those fishing mornings, he could11 me the lessons of fishing—not only how to fish, but also other lessons:

    We wouldn't always get what we 12

    With patience, though, we might.

    The wait could be as13 as the reward.

    Much could be heard in the quiet of the dawn.

    14between two people don't need to be filled.

    I don't remember how old I was the last time I went fishing with my father at Lily Lake. But those times 15fishing were the closest moment I 16with my father as a child.

    My father is gone now, but I 17 recently to Lily Lake. I crossed the wooden footbridge and stood on the shore. A silver flash18 the water's surface, spreading littering rings. I was there again with my father,19 through islands of lily pads, and I whispered a thank-you for 20 he taught me.

Hope in my arms

    Last year, I was invited to participate in a carnival（嘉年华） for Tuesday' s Child, an organization that helps children with AIDS.

    All the children that had 1 at one special room could paint a square on a piece of cloth. Later the squares would be sewn(缝) together to2 a quilt. The quilt would be presented to a man who had devoted his life to the   3 and would soon be retiring.

    The kids were given paints in bright colors and asked to paint something that would make the quilt beautiful. As I looked around at all the squares, I saw pink hearts, blue clouds, orange sunrises and red flowers. The pictures were all bright and 4. All except one.

    One boy was painting a heart, but it was dark and lifeless. It lacked the bright colors that his fellow artists had used. I asked why. He told me that he was very5 and so was his mom. He said that his sickness was not ever going to get better and 6 was his mom's. He looked7into my eyes and said, "There is no hope in my life."

    I told him I was sorry and I could understand why he had made his heart a dark color. I told him that8 we couldn't make him better, we can give 9, which can really help when you are feeling sad. I told him that if he would like, I would be happy to give him one so he could see what I meant. 10, he crawled(爬上) into my lap（大腿）. I thought my own heart would burst for this sweet little boy. He sat there for a long time. Finally he slipped 11to finish his coloring.

    As I was getting ready to12 home, I felt a tug (猛拽) on my jacket. Standing there was the little boy,13. He said, "My heart is changing14. It is getting brighter. I think those hugs really do 15." On my way home I felt my own heart. It too had changed to a brighter color.

    I have lived in Keelung for over twenty years. Before 20, I had not traveled abroad. The 1 places I had visited were scenic spots in my hometown. I was always told to come back home right away after school. My two schools were very 2; it took less than fifteen minutes to arrive at the schools from home.

    3 I was a junior-high-school student, after a final exam, a few classmates 4 me to visit Taipei. Needless to say, I was full of 5 and asked Mother for 6 to join this hike. But to my 7, my mother refused my request because she was worried about my 8. In spite of(尽管) the fact, I tried to 9 her, telling her about our destinations and my classmates' 10 experiences of visiting Taipei, but she just said, “Unless parents 11 you, you can't go." I did my best to 12 her but it was all in vain. I faced a dilemma. On the one hand, I knew that Mother's firm disagreement was because my brother was injured in an accident when he was traveling. To be a considerate son, should I 13 my desire? On the other hand, I didn't want to 14 a valuable opportunity to grow up and to be 15. Filled with sadness and anger, I 16 a cold war with Mother. I neither talked with her nor did I go out of my room. Two days later, my mother not only 17 my classmates about the visit but also called their parents to 18 safety problem. Through a number of phone calls, finally she agreed. Before I left, 19, she once again talked about her concern. I listened carefully and patiently and gave her a thankful embrace because I knew that was the way my mother's 20 went.

    Flying on a plane for the first time can be frightening. It can be extra 1 for children who have autism (自闭症). When Linda Diaz was 2 a vacation to Disney World four years ago, she wanted to make flying a 3 experience for her son, Andy, who has autism.

    She called Minneapolis-St Paul International Airport (MSP) to see what could be done. 4, the airport didn't have programs to help Andy. So Diaz 5 the family's flights and 6 drove 1, 500 miles to Orlando, Florida.

    Soon after that drive to Disney World, a program started at MSP. It is to help make flying 7 for kids like Andy. The program is called Navigating MSP. It holds 8 every month for anyone who has 9 about flying. The program is not 10 for people with autism. Airline workers help 11 get used to the airport and planes. It helps them to be less frightened of flying. When they 12 fly, they are not as worried.

    When Andy was 13 years old, his first 13 ride was planned. He went through a practice with his family. George Callow, an officer at the airport, helped the family through the safety checks. Callow said the visiting families got on a plane, 14 it was not going anywhere. It was just for them to 15.

    After the last family arrived, the pilot greeted the families over the speaker, "Welcome aboard our flight to 16." After greeting the pilot and flight attendants, passengers went to their 17. But Andy had other plans. Frightened by his new surroundings, he ran down the aisle (走廊) of the plane, 18 a way out. Volunteers suggested that Andy might be most 19 in the front row. They were 20. Once seated, Andy was quiet and kissed his mother on the face. He felt better about flying now.