Recently I understood the true meaning of love. The 1 was Kane, my neighbor Joline's two-year-old son.

Kane was born with a physical problem on his 2. And I witnessed (目睹) the 3 that Kane's physical shortcomings had on his family. I also saw a 4 family that embraced (拥抱) this special child. A family that wouldn't allow Kane to know he was 5. Joline had constructed a small cart for his son to6 . Kane used his hands to move about, and the cart 7 him to "go to" any place just as everyone else was able to do. Kane was not just a member of the family, but the 8 of the family.

    With a wide smile, it was easy to see that even at the age of two, Kane liked to 9 with people very much. With wisdom of an individual (个人), this boy even 10 the most complex of human emotions. Later I came to  11 that this child was sent to help some of us who weren't just getting what love was all about.

    Kane demanded attention, 12  not because of his mobility (移动能力) challenges or other apparent shortcomings. In his mind, he had no13 or shortcomings. The 14  was that he received attention because he was alive and real and had so much to offer.

    Kane 15  me in a deep way. His ability to refuse to be different has 16 me. Kane was and is 17 a boy of powerful energy to me. From him and his family I learnt the 18 : love surpasses (超越) all things. I can only imagine that as the parent of a child like Kane one might be filled with19  . But I believe that having a child like Kane is actually a(n)20  . The parents of such special babies are angels too,just as the babies are.

     “Daily Star, sir” called Jason, carrying some newspapers under his arm. The little boy had been running up and down the street, but there were still twenty 1 left. His voice was almost gone and his heart was 2. The shops would soon close, and all the people would go home. He would have to go home too, carrying the papers 3 money. He had hoped to sell more papers tonight to make more money to buy a4for his mother and some seeds for his bird. That was why he had bought the papers with all his money. He 5 as he thought of his failure to sell all his papers.

     “You don't know the 6of selling papers. You must shout, “Hot news! Bomb bursting!” another newsboy Chad told Jason. “7 it's not in the paper at all,” replied Jason. “Just run away quickly 8they have time to see, and you'll 9out and get your money,” Chad said.

    It was a new 10to Jason. He thought of his bird with no 11 and the cake he wanted to buy for his mother, but was 12 that he would not tell a lie. Though he was 13 a poor newsboy, he had been 14 some good things.

The next afternoon Jason went to the office for his papers 15 Several boys were crowding around Chad, who declared with a 16 smile that he sold six dozen the day before. He added that Jason 17 money because he would not tell a lie. The boy 18 at Jason. “You wouldn't tell a lie yesterday, my boy?” A gentleman at the office came up and patted Jason's shoulder 19.”You're just the boy I am looking for.” A week later, Jason started his new20. He lost sale of twenty papers because he would not tell a lie, but got a well-paid job because he told the truth.

    On June 23, 1970. I had just left the Army after completing my one-year duty in Vietnam. I was on 1returning home in Texas. I had been warned about the 2 of our fellow countrymen. There was no3 welcome for us when we came home from that unpopular war.

    I sat, in uniform, in a window seat4 eye contact with my fellow passengers. NO one was sitting next to me, which added to my 5. A little girl suddenly appeared in the passage. She6and, without saying a word7 handed me a magazine. I accepted her8 her quiet “welcome home.” All I could say was, “Thank you.” Her small gesture of 9was the first I had experienced in a long time.

    I always believe in the connection between10 when they reach out to one another.

    That girl11 has no memory of what happened years ago. She might have been told to do that by her mother. It doesn't matter12 she gave me the magazine. The 13thing is that she did.

    Since then, I have followed her example and tried in different ways for different people, to 14for them. Like me on that plane ride long ago, they will 15 know why a stranger gave a hand. But I absolutely know that my 16 since then are all because of that little girl. Her kindness of offering a magazine to a 17 scared and lonely soldier has been 18 throughout my life. I have to believe that my small 19 have the same effect on others. And to that little girl, now a20 I would like to say again: thank you.

    Several years ago, I had a long delay at the Pittsburg airport, 1 I headed for the shoe shine stand where two young 2 worked. One was a pleasant young man, the other was 3. I wanted the 4 one to shine my shoes. However, when my 5 came I got the quiet one.

    I said, “Good morning! How are you?” The man said 6 and I thought to myself, “That's no 7 to build a business!” As I sat down, he 8 rolled up my pant leg and as he used the soap to 9 my shoes he was careful to get none on my 10. He wiped the shoes with extreme care and as he 11 the polish (shoe cream) he made certain that every inch of leather was totally 12. He brushed the shoes, 13then took his shine cloth and really put some energy into the 14. As he was shining my shoes, I looked carefully at the man 15. He obviously suffered from some degree of mental dullness. When he 16 the job successfully, I don't need to tell you that the man got a 17 tip from me.

    Two major observations: his parents must be great people to have18 this young man the 19 of hard work; the second: regardless of your ability, if you 20 it and use it to the fullest, you can become really good at what you do. Major point: Be careful how you judge people on the first impression. Give them a chance.

    Douglas was my cousin. I first met him when he came to stay with my family for a 1, because his parents were going to teach in Africa.

    He and his family 2 all the way on the other side of the country, so we had never had a chance to visit. 3, when we arrived at the airport, it was not hard to find which person was my 4. He was the one standing all alone, looking around for someone to 5 him. He looked a little scared to meet us, 6 started to smile shyly after my mom hugged (拥抱) him.

    When we got back home and Douglas 7 putting his things away, I could not believe it. All of his 8 were the same, all white shirts and dark blue shorts. He 9 had a dark blue jacket with a tie!

    "How come you 10 only one kind of clothes?" I asked him.

    "That's the way my school has 11 been," he said. "We have to wear uniforms."

    "I would hate having to wear the 12 thing every day," I said.

    "I don't 13," Douglas said. "It 14 time. I don't have to think about what I am going to wear."

    "Well, we don't wear uniforms at our 15. You're going to look pretty 16 if you come to school in a jacket and tie."

    Douglas looked worried. I felt bad. I had not meant to 17 his feelings. After all, it was not  18easy to live with some 19 family for a year. Then and there I decided that I was going to 20 my cousin and try to make this as good a year as possible for him.

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.