Arthur Ashe, an African American, was a great tennis player. In his autobiography (自传) Days of Grace, Arthur Ashe 1 an incident that occurred when he was 17 years old. He was playing in a match in West Virginia. As was often the case, he was the only 2 of color in the match.

    One night, some of the kids broke a gate. They completely 3 it and then decided to say that Authur was 4. The incident was reported in the newspapers; Arthur 5 his involvement, but the boys would not change their story. The 6 part for Arthur was worrying about what his father would say and do. He 7 made a phone call.

As he imagined, his father had already learned of the 8. His father's tone was severe. He asked Arthur only one question. “Arthur Junior,” he asked, “all I want to 9 is— were you mixed up in that 10?”

    Author a nswered, “No, Daddy, I wasn't.” his father 11 asked about it again. Arthur learned on that day why he had always been encouraged to tell the 12. There would come a time when he must be 13, and this was such a time. Because he had already earned his trust and  14, he knew his father believed him. From that day on he was 15, above all else, to live a life of honesty.

16, we find examples of modern leaders in every field who have less honesty. 17 we do not need saints(圣人)—we need people like you; people who will be known for their 18; people who earn the trust and respect of others, 19 their age or status in life; people who 20 the importance of character. Our world does not need another saint. But it needs you.

    A young man was getting ready to graduate from college. For many months he had 1 a beautiful sports car in a dealer's showroom, and 2his father could well 3it, he told him that was all he wanted.

    On the morning of his graduation day his father called him into his own study and told him how 4he was to have such a fine son. He handed his son a beautiful gift box.5but slightly disappointed, the young man6 the box and found a lovely book. 7, he raised his voice at his father and said."8all your money you give me a book？"and rushed out of the house, 9the book in the study.

    He did not contact his father for a whole year10 one day he saw in the street an old man who looked like his father. He 11he had to go back home and see his father.

    When he arrived at his father's house, he was told that his father had been in hospital for a week. The moment he was about to 12the hospital, he saw on the desk the 13new book, just as he had left it one 14ago. He opened it and began to15the pages. Suddenly, a car key16from an envelope taped behind the book. It had a tag(标签)with the dealer's name, the 17dealer who had the sports car he had 18.On the tag was the 19of his graduation, and the 20 PAID IN FULL.

    Carl Kenton is a wealthy businessman. Five years ago, after returning from abroad to his motherland, he 1 his small company. Speaking of success, Glen often tells us a story about his 2 expensive “school” fee. He always owes his success to it.

    At that time, Glen, who already got a PhD degree, decided to return to the homeland, starting a company. Before 3 , he bought a Rolex watch with the 4 made through years of work after school and the scholarships. At the airport he had to accept the routine customs check. The watch on his wrist was also demanded to be 5 down for inspection. Glen knew that carrying the 6 goods out had to pay the tax and he worried about paying 7 for his watch. So when he was checked, he told a lie that his watch was a 8 fake (假货). When he was 9 of his “smarts”, immediately, 10 the presence of Glen, the officers hit the watch, which 11 nearly 100,000, into pieces at hearing Glen's words. Glen was 12. Before he understood why, he was taken to the office to be examined 13. For many times of entry-exit 14, he knew that only those people in the “blacklist” would “enjoy” this special treatment. The officers looked over everything carefully in the box and 15 him no matter what time of entry and exit he must accept the check and if 16 reusing and carrying fake and shoddy goods, he would be charged according to law! Suddenly, his face turned red, and he had nothing in mind after 17 the plane for long.

    After returning to the homeland, he often told the story to his family and his employees, too. He said that this made a deep 18 on him because the additional high “school” fee that he had ever paid made him realize the value of 19, which he would 20 as the secret of his success forever.

    The first time 10-year-old Jordie Rowland came into the barber shop, it was a disaster.

    Jordie, who has autism (自闭症), 1 with his parents to run outside the moment he entered the shop. I ended up 2 around the shop with him that day. I got in a few cuts 3 stopped the haircut when I saw Jordie was 4. Cutting hair can be 5 for some children with autism. Jordie was no different. I felt I'd 6 and it made me 7 to learn more about autism so I could connect with him and take away his 8.

    After the first 9 haircut, I suggested to Jordie's parents they bring him back every two weeks at closing time. That went on for a few months. His hair was long. I could 10 cut it properly. I'd get a couple of cuts in, and then he'd just go crazy. That was a really 11 time. But I knew we had to just keep going.

    I even went to his house to give it a try. No 12. Then the owner of the barber shop 13 me for allowing a customer to come in after closing time. Discouraged, I 14 that job, and soon opened my own shop. Every two weeks, Jordie would 15 my shop after it was closed. This lasted about eight months.

    A few weeks ago, we made 16. I sang "The Wheels on the Bus" to him. I didn't know he was 17 nursery rhymes (儿歌). I was just trying to 18 him. He looked at me as if he were mesmerized (迷住). I gave him a full haircut for the first time. I realized our slow, two-year effort had 19.

    Two weeks later, Jordie let me do it again. I often don't charge them the cost of the haircut. Maybe the reason I do something like this is to increase my 20 of the kids like him.

    Last summer, I began the biggest adventure of my life. I moved from a tiny city in England to one of the 1 cities in the world.

    As the plane 2 in Beijing, one of the first things I did was to 3 one of the city's hutong. Walking around the 4 street, the warm air was filled with the 5 of delicious food as people played mahjong and 6 their old­fashioned bikes. This was the first moment I 7, "Wow, I'm in China."

    Beijing couldn't be more 8 to my home city, Preston, which 9 a population of just 114,000. It has one 10 street that's around 500 meters from one end to the 11, on Sunday, all the shops 12 at 4：00 pm. There isn't a great deal of 13 when it comes to restaurants, either, and as a 14 of food, I couldn't wait to see what Beijing has to15. I still don't have a favorite dish here yet-I'm still happily working my way through the city's countless 16 to try to figure that out.

    I'm slowly getting used 17 the fast­paced lifestyle and different 18 of life. In the future, I hope to buy a motorbike and 19 from one end to the other of this beautiful city, taking photos and 20 new people along the way.

At my first lesson in Chinese calligraphy, my teacher told me plainly: "Now I will teach you how to write your name. And to make it beautiful." I felt my breath catch. I was curious.

Growing up in Singapore, I had an unusual relationship with my Chinese name. My parents are ethnically Chinese, so they asked fortune tellers to decide my name, aiming for maximum luck. As a result, I ended up with a nonsense and embarrassing name: Chen Yiwen, meaning, roughly, "old", "barley （薏米） "and "warm".

When I arrived in America for college at 18, I put on an American accent and abandoned my Chinese name. When I moved to Hong Kong in 2021, after 14 years in the States, I decided to learn calligraphy. Why not get back in touch with my heritage? I thought.

In calligraphy, the idea is to copy the old masters' techniques, thereby refining your own. Every week, though, my teacher would give uncomfortably on-the-nose assessments of my person. "You need to be braver," he once observed. "Have confidence. Try to produce a bold stroke （笔画）." For years, I had prided myself on presenting an image of confidence, but my writing betrayed me.

I was trying to make sense of this practice. You must visualize the word as it is to be written and leave a trace of yourself in it. As a bodily practice, calligraphy could go beyond its own cultural restrictions. Could it help me go beyond mine? My teacher once said to me, "When you look at the word, you see the body. Though a word on the page is two-dimensional, it contains multitudes, conveying the force you've applied, the energy of your grip, the arch of your spine." I had been learning calligraphy to get in touch with my cultural roots, but what I was really seeking was a return to myself. Now I have sensed that the pleasure out of calligraphy allows me to know myself more fully.

During a recent lesson, my teacher pointed at the word I had just finished, telling me: "This word is much better. I can see the choices you made, your calculations, your flow. Trust yourself. This word is yours." He might as well have said, "This word is you."