In spite of the fun and laughter, 13-year-old Frank Wilson was not happy. It was 1 that he received all the presents he wanted. And he also 2 the big Christmas dinner with family members.3, Frank was not happy because this was his first Christmas without his brother, Steve, who during the year, had been killed in a car accident. Frank 4 his brother.

    Frank said good-bye to his relatives, and explained to his parents that he was going to see a friend. Since it was cold outside, Frank 5 his new plaid jacket. It was his favorite gift. He placed the other presents on his new sled (雪橇). Then Frank 6.

    As Frank went down the street toward home, through one front window, he saw a room with old 7 hanging over an empty fireplace. A woman was seated nearby, crying. The stockings 8 him of the way he and his brother always 9 theirs side by side. The next morning, they would find presents.

    Then Frank had a10. He knocked on the door. “Yes?” the 11voice of a woman asked. “May I come in?” asked Frank. “You are very welcome,” she said.12his sled full of gifts and thinking he wanted to 13 gifts. “But I have no food or gifts for you. I have 14 for my own children.” “That's not why I am here,” Frank replied. Please 15 whatever presents you would like for your children from the sled.” “Why, God bless you!” the 16 woman answered gratefully. She selected some candies, a toy airplane and a doll. Finally, the stockings were 17. “Thank you so much!” the woman Said. “You are welcome,” Frank said and left.

    Frank's18was full of happiness. Then he gave his jacket to a poor boy. At last, he19 all his gifts. Now Frank was worried how he could 20 to his parents that he had given his presents to others.

    Zigfried, a little mouse, blew his breath on the frosty window of the farmhouse and rubbed it to see the outside. Still nobody came. Maybe today, he thought 1 It was only a few days before Christmas and he was watching for a miracle (奇迹).

    This farmhouse had been 2 too long. It needed a family. Zigfried's 3 made a noise. He realized that he hadn't eaten anything since yesterday. He jumped from the windowsill (窗沿), grabbed a 4 from his home, and went next door to Farmer Mike's.

    Farmer Mike's house had been a great place for the little mouse 5the farmer married a wife who had a cat. Zigfried 6when he thought of it. He looked around cautiously as he 7 into the room where grain was stored and was quite 8as he filled his bag with wheat. He was turning to leave when suddenly he 9a hot breath about his ear. His heart beat 10, and without thinking he started to run and luckily 11 the cat's paws (爪子).

    The next afternoon Zigfried heard some good news: a 12family would be moving into the farmhouse soon. Zigfried's granny would arrive on Christmas Eve to 13 with him. He hoped that the family would come before his granny came. Before long, a car came 14 the road leading to the house, with butter sandwiches, cheese and chocolate.

    Zigfried's Christmas miracle did arrive!

    The house came 15 the next few days. Zigfried 16 every single hour of them. 17, the day before Christmas when he was drinking hot chocolate with a 18 smile at the door of his home, he heard the 19 of the children of the family about what they might get for Christmas. What? A cat? The 20froze on his face; his mouth fell wide open. After a long while, he at last found his voice: "Hey! Whose Christmas miracle is this?"

    One day, when I was a teenager, I was home along doing two of my favourite things: I was eating a huge plate of spaghetti and mealbails and I was 1.

    At the time, my family pet bird - a big white cockatoo named Luke was free from his 2 and flying around inside the house. Luke, which wasn't3 to use real words, was chucking (咯咯地叫) away, 4 me, but I wasn't paying attention to him. I was 5 on reading my detective book. 6 Luke decided to get closer and before I 7 it, he'd landed right on top of my spaghetti and meatbails! I was so surprised - my mind went8. My reaction was the same as yours would be: I shooed (用"嘘"声吓唬)him off my food! This wouldn't have been so bad 9 one thing: Luke had 10 my spaghetti. So when he 11 again, the spaghetti still winded in his12 went flying everywhere. He landed on my shirt. He hit me in the 13. As I pulled noodles out of my hair, Luke 14 spaghetti sauce all the way. He wasn't15, except for his16the sauce in his beautiful white 17 turned him splotchy (油渍斑斑的)orange for several weeks.

    See how funny spaghetti can be? And see how 18 reading can be? So go ahead and enjoy a good book. But if you like to read while you eat, you'd better keep an eye on your food. And if you find a19 novel at the 20 with red, splotchy (油渍斑斑的)spots on two pages near the middle, you'll know that I've read that book, too!

The light from the campfire brightened the darkness, but it could not prevent the damp cold of Dennis's Swamp (沼泽地) creeping into their bones. It was a strange place. Martin and Tom wished that they had not accepted Jack'sdare. They liked camping, but not near this swamp.

"So," Martin asked as they sat watching the hot coals. "How did this place get its name?"

"Are you sure you want to hear it? It's a scary story," warned Jack.

"Of course!" cried out Tom. "If there were anything to be scared of, you wouldn't have chosen this place!"

"Ok, but don't say I didn't warn you," said Jack, and he began this tale.

"Way back in time, a man called Dennis tried to start a farm here. He built that cottage over there to live in. In those days, the area looked quite different — it was covered with tall trees and the swamp was a crystal-clear river. After three hard years, Dennis had cleared several fields and planted crops. He was so proud of his success that he refused to listen to advice.

"‘You are clearing too much land,' warned one old man. ‘The land is a living thing. It will hit back at you if you abuse it. '"

"‘Silly fool,' said Dennis to himself. ‘If I clear more land, I can grow more crops. I'll become wealthier. He's just jealous!'"

"Dennis continued to chop down trees. Small animals that relied on them for food and shelter were destroyed. He was so eager to expand his farm that he did not notice the river flowing slowly towards his door. He did not notice salt seeping to the surface of the land. He did not notice swamp plants choking all the native plants."

"What happened?" Martin asked. It was growing colder. He trembled, twisting his body closer to the fire.

"The land hit back — just as the old man warned," Jack shrugged. "Dennis disappeared. Old folks around here believe that swamp plants moved up from the river and dragged him underwater. His body was never found."

"What a stupid story," laughed Tom. "Plants can't …" Before he had finished speaking, he screamed and fainted (晕倒). The other two boys jumped up with fright, staring at Tom. Suddenly, they burst out laughing. Some green swamp ivy (常春藤) had covered Tom's face. It was a while before Tom could appreciate the joke.

Fifteen years ago, I loved going to the gym, but family life and work commitments meant I was finding it hard to get there. With the help of my dad and uncle, I built my own gym in the garden. It's basically a beautified room with insulation(隔热层) and electrics and a small heater for the winter. We built a corner desk too intending it to be for me to do the paperwork for my small business. However, the desk served its real purpose when I started my writing journey two years ago.

I've always had stories going through my mind. I could be out jogging and I'd lose myself playing out thoughts in my head like movie scenes. Once seen, they stay in there. I have trouble keeping other information, but when it comes to story ideas, they lock in. I have many full novel ideas in my head waiting to be written. When I was younger, I wasn't brave enough to write. I didn't do well in school and I've spent most of my life in physical work, so the idea of becoming a writer felt laughable.

I now know there isn't a writer type; writers come in all forms. I still use the gym for its real purpose, but some of the equipment has been replaced by books and a small be d for the time when I want to relax and read. I like to have my desk looking colorful—some might say messy. My love for sport is clear to see, with photos around of my favorite boxers and the football team I follow. On the other hand, having my own writing room is important. Without it I wouldn't be where I am now on my writing journey. It's far from charming, but it is mine. It's my happy place.

My grandfather was born in a small town in Italy. He would wake up at four in the morning every day to work on the farm. Although he was a great student in school, he only went up to Grade 3 because he was required to help with the family farm. 

Later, my grandfather used his own hard-earned savings—the small amount was all he had—to travel to Canada. He was alone in a new country, not knowing anyone and not speaking English or French. At a farm, the owner quickly saw what a hard-working young man my grandfather was, so he paid my grandfather a much higher salary. Although the owner was very nice to him and treated him like family, he was not satisfied. He dreamed of being more successful, of better career advancements. 

One day, he got an offer to work in the construction industry. My grandfather, a newly immigrated young famer, who was eager to move up in the world, caught this opportunity and prospered( 发达 ) through hard work. Around 1967, however, he become overwhelmed(不知所措的)with stress, sleepless nights and anxiety from the business. He also had two young daughters to take care of and my grandmother was in the hospital at the time. The combined stress and anxiety unfortunately drove him into a major depression. During a medical check-up, his doctor warned him about his health. He knew it was time for him to make a change and decided to sell his shares in the company. 

He then began a smaller business of his own, which resulted in less stress and more time with family. Had he chosen not to quit his former job, he might have been a billionaire today. My grandfather will turn 95 in October; even at this ripe old age, he is still strong, well and high-spirited. Looking at his story as a life example, he teaches us to work hard, but at the same time not to forget to enjoy life and have a good sense of humour about it all. 

Work is important, sure, but there is much more to life than just that. Overall, this is the ultimate key to happiness.