On the first day of my high school, I ran into my new English teacher, Ms. Kirschmann. I really mean that – I almost knocked her 1 .

    On entering my English classroom, I hit somebody hard. She was tall with red hair, and she was2a black and white skirt. As I began to3, she started “yelling” at me. But soon I realized that she was,4, saying hello and welcoming me to her class in a very 5voice. I realized that I had just met my new English teacher a moment ago.

    Kirsch, as she wanted us to call her, had a6and fascinating character. Her hair color, fashion sense and energy took up the entire room. When we read the play Macbeth by Shakespeare, Kirsch let us play7and wear masks. There was a big drum in the classroom. Every time we read the word “thunder” in the text, she would hit 8 on the drum, making a loud noise! My classmates and I would 9 loudly.

    During group discussions, Kirsch often told us to sit in a10 on the floor. We talked about the 11 while she just sat in a corner and took notes of what we said. Doing so made us feel independent and 12 ourselves more with critical thinking. It is the strangest 13 the most entertaining class I have ever had.

    Kirsch is really a “social butterfly”. She smiles, laughs and tells jokes 14 she goes. But I found out about another 15 of her the other day.

    After school that day, I was walking by my English classroom 16 I saw Ms. Kirschmann with her son. She was trying to 17 him to put on his jacket in a low voice. She spoke in such a gentle manner that I was quite 18 . Until then, it never 19 to me that Ms. Kirschmann could be quiet. I had thought she was 20 energetic, calm, intelligent and caring all at once. All I know was that I couldn't wait for the next day of her English class.

    Jenna, a popular girl from Westwood Middle School, had graduated first in her class and was ready for new 1 in high school.

    2, high school was different. In the first week, Jenna went to tryouts (选拔赛) for cheerleaders (拉拉队队员). She was competing against very talented girls, and she knew it would be 3 for her to be selected. Two hours later, the 4 read a list of the girls for a second tryout. Her heart 5 as the list ended without her name. Feeling 6, she walked home carrying her schoolbag full of homework.

    Arriving home, she started with math. She had always been a good math student, but now she was 7. She moved on to English and history, and was 8 to find that she didn't have any trouble with those subjects. Feeling better, she decided not to 9 math for the time being.

    The next day Jenna went to see Mrs. Biden about being on the school 10. Mrs. Biden wasn't as 11 as Jenna. “I'm sorry, but we have enough 12 for the newspaper already. Come back next year and we'll talk then.” Jenna smiled 13 and left. “Why is high school so 14?” she sighed.

    Later in 15 class, Jenna devoted herself to figuring out the problems that had given her so much 16. By the end of class, she understood how to get them right. As she gathered her books, Jenna decided she'd continue to try to 17 her new school. She wasn't sure if she'd succeed, but she knew she had to 18. High school was just as her mom had said: “You will feel like a small fish in a big pond 19 a big fish in a small pond. The challenge is to become the 20 fish you can be.”

    On Dec. 13, 2014, Nubia Wilson turned 16. But instead of1with an exciting Sweet 16 birthday party, the California teen devoted this milestone to 2 the lives of orphans in Ethiopia.

    Through several summers of volunteer work at an Ethiopia orphanage（孤儿院）, Nubia learned firsthand the severe poverty so many children3. In an email to The Huffington Post, Nubia said that she was 4struck by the children's lack of5to education — their school only went through the fourth grade.

    Over the course of her volunteer work, Nubia became interested in one 6Hermela. She writes:

    Out of the many students in the kindergarten class, Hermela became close and7 to me to a point where it was becoming8for both of us to leave each other. She is now in the second grade. The thought of Hermela not being able to have her meal and9 education after the fourth grade became 10and I knew I had to do something.

    That's when Nubia decided that she didn't want a traditional Sweet 16.11 she wanted to use the money her parents would have spent on a party to establish12grade class for Hermela and other kids.

    “The money could provide a (n)13 solution that will serve for many years compared to the one-day14of my party, “Nubia wrote to Huffpost Live15 I want Hermela to continue16.”

    After17 friends and family her plan, Nubia 18 a donation page “Keep Hermela Smiling” on CrowRise. Her19will raise funds for the Fregenet Foundation（基金会）, which funds education and community services in Ethiopia.

    So far, Nubia has raised $2,781 of her $10,000 goal. Nubia says her parents have been extremely 20 they're selling most of their Ethiopian artifacts to help raise funds.

    Nubia's birthday may not have been a party, but it's truly a celebration.

    My most rewarding experience throughout the past two years was volunteering at the swimming competition for Special Olympics where a disabled friend of my community took part. This had special1for me because experiencing it helped improve my leadership skills, develop my character, and support my community.

    Firstly, my 2skills developed when I independently directed each swimmer where to3 at the platform and4 each competitor when they needed to swim. I had to make sure that the swimmers were5 and ready to perform. This kept me on my feet at all times and6 of each event's time and location. I learned each swimmer's name7 many of them swam in more than one event.

    Secondly, my8was greatly influenced. When I saw the swimmers get their awards for winning each swimming event, I was deeply moved. I was 9that most swimmers could swim better than I. Their10attitudes astonished me, whether they won or lost. This also enlarged my view, offering me the opportunity to11people I would normally not run into. I went out of my12zone and did whatever was needed to be done, even if it was sometimes difficult to me. It was especially13when I saw the glowing faces of the competitors.

    Lastly, I was of14to my community by lending a hand to this organization. To be a part of it gave me a chance to improve my community and become15with the people living in this area.

    As Winston Churchill once said, “We make a living by what we do, but we make a(n)16 by what we give.” The importance of17should be stressed throughout your life18 through the many opportunities my community has offered I was privileged to be19in this exciting and important event in these competitors' lives. I hope to be a(n)20 again at this event in years to come.

    Even though my grandpa was a farmer, my grandma would iron his work clothes every day. Grandma mixed up her own starch (淀粉浆) in a glass Coke 1 with a metal cap that had lots of 2 like a salt-shaker. She would spray grandpa's pants with the starch, 3 them over a chair for a few minutes for them to dry a bit, and then 4 the iron to them.

    As I was watching, I began to question this 5 Why on earth did grandpa need his work clothes 6? Most days, he never 7 anyone but me and maybe a few other farmers nearby. One day when I was about 13, I asked grandma why she thought it necessary to 8 time and effort to clothes that were rarely seen and would be 9 in just an hour or two.

    She gave me a girlish smile, the kind you wouldn't 10 from grandmothers at their age. She said that grandpa was the most 11 man in the world. She loved every chance she got to 12 and make the rest of the world jealous of her. “I want him to look the most handsome man God had 13 made.”

    Later that day, I looked 14 at grandpa, who surely didn't15 at all handsome to me. He was short and skinny, and his false 16 didn't line up. “You just aren't looking in the right light.” Grandma laughed.

    I decided to 17 it. Sheesh, I thought, old people.

    The years 18 and I watched grandma and grandpa grow old together. I was probably 30 when it 19 on me what love really was – it was grandma ironing grandpa's pants with 20 from a Coke bottle.

    It was a February morning 13 years ago. We 1 into the driveway, excited and proud, and 2 up our kids for photos. It was a big day, but back then we had no idea how it would 3 our lives.

    We tried to fight it. We knew it marked us as uncool. But we had 4 minivan people.

    I don't care. That van is linked to so many great 5 — soccer games, camping trips, and a gang of 10-year-old boys 6 in for a big day at Canada's Wonderland theme park.

    That 24-hour journey to Florida to visit grandparents and a three-week holiday to the east coast, full of long conversations and classic rock 7 on cassette tapes.

    In that van, I 8 my head off while going out with friends, and cried my heart out at the death of a 9 one.

    I've dreamed and planned and moved homes while traveling on those four 10 wheels.

    I know it's just a 11. But the first time I watched my teenagers drive off in it 12, I realized they were growing up.

    There were days when it drove me 13, too. On cold winter mornings, the sliding doors would freeze 14. Anyone who wanted to sit in the back seats had to climb in through the front. Still, we've 15 to our van for as long as possible. It never ever let us down, even as the repair bills got a little bigger each year and we faithfully 16 whatever was needed to keep it on the road safely.

Yesterday we finally made the 17. It was time to find a newer, smaller, more energy-efficient 18. The van was telling us it was time.

    Saying goodbye is never 19. As we close the minivan chapter of our lives, my heart is a little sad — the days, months and years that passed by so quickly.

    The story of our minivan is the story of our 20.