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.

    We were depressed and things were tough. Mom had a 1time raising us on her own because Dad died five years ago. We relied on social assistance for 2.

    Looking back, I 3remember what Mom went through to send us to school. I studied hard then. Every morning, she would put a new piece of cardboard in our shoes because our shoes were 4. Constant moving was typical for my family in these times. Rent was 25 dollars a month but Mom couldn't 5it. Though it was hard, we never 6. Christmas was approaching. We were given 25 dollars for social services. Instead of buying food, Mom would use the money to pay the 7, ensuring us all of a 8over our head.9we had nothing for Christmas.

    Unknown to Mom, I had been selling Christmas trees to earn enough money for a new pair of 10. On the afternoon of Christmas Eve, I was 11to go to catch the bus.

    As I reached the stop, I began to feel 12. I was going to buy a new pair of boots13Mom was at home in tears.  My mind was 14and I realized what I had to do. I didn't get on the 15.

    I went in a grocery store and bought the Christmas treats. I 16home and put them quietly against the door. I knocked on the door. When Mom opened the door, 17rolled into the house. She just stood there 18. I managed to hold back the 19, saying, "Merry Christmas, Mom! There really is a Santa Claus!"

    That day I got many 20and kisses from Mom. It was a Merry Christmas for us after all!

    I have a home away from home — my school, Hamden High. Sometimes after 13 hours of school and sports, I consider 1 there overnight, sleeping in the band room. But I feel most at home at Room Cl03, the costume shop, which my acting friends and I call home. The couch there has been a second 2 for me.

    I have been on the costume crew for four years. I 3 my first play set in Italy in the 1960s. With the help of my costume teacher, I 4 my first costume successfully. On stage, it sparkled and made the 5 of the queen come to life. I felt 6, realizing that I'd do this forever and help create 7 through cloth and color.

    My costume teacher 8 my abilities to select designs, colors and fabrics that will 9 each character. So she asks me to take charge of the ensemble (全套戏服）. 10 a hard task, I welcome it! I  11 the long nights spent cutting the patterns. I feel like an older sister to the younger  12.Through my four years of theater, I have  13 my theater family and the young actors treat me as their older sister. I would feel  14 each time a family member leaves and we will cry.

    I will leave my Hamden High theater family and make my new 15 at UCONN, a school where I can 16 these feelings again. I look forward to learning new 17 in something I truly love and wish to 18 for the rest of my life. In UCONN, I will also help the actors on stage to 19 as if their characters come to life. 20, I will find a comfortable couch in a new band room to sleep on.

    It was 12:45 p.m. on January 2, 2007. Fifty-year-old Wesley Autrey was 1 the train at a subway station in New York. His two daughters, aged four and six, were with him.

    2, a sick man fell on the platform (站台). The man, 20-year-old Cameron Hollopeter, got up, but then 3 again — this time, onto the track between the two rails. A 4 was coming into the station. It was a(n) 5 moment. But Mr. Autrey wasn't afraid. He 6the man, and he looked at the 7 that the man was in. It was about half a meter deep. And he8, “The train is going to travel over this man. 9 he tries to get up, the train will 10him. But if he lies on the ground and doesn't 11, he'll be OK.” So he knew he had to 12. And there was no time to think carefully.

    He 13. Mr. Autrey lay on top of Mr. Hollopeter and kept him down on the ground. The train driver 14 them. He was afraid, but he couldn't 15 in time. Five subway cars traveled over the two men before the train stopped.

    The people on the platform were 16. When Mr. Autrey heard them screaming (尖叫), he shouted, “We're OK down here, but I have two daughters up there. Let them 17 their father's OK.” People on the platform clapped and 18. They were amazed at Mr. Autrey's 19. Subway workers helped the two men out. They had no serious injuries.

    Mr. Autrey said, “I didn't do anything special. I just saw someone who needed 20. I did what I thought was right.”

    I was appointed to tend to this patient several weeks ago and began to grow closer to her. Communicating with her was1because everything she wanted to say to me had to be written on a notepad. As a nursing graduate, I was able to2her mind by observing even a slight 3 in a patient's facial expression.

    One day, when I was checking the patient, she4me on the shoulder to show me a note, "Do you think I could be let go5the hospital in a month to see my niece get married?" Taking her hand in mine, I told her that I could not6her, because I did not want to leave her a7sense of hope. 8, I made her believe that I would be there with her every step of the way on her journey toward9 Hearing that, the patient gave me a 10and a hug.

    Day by day, 1 built her11by walking around the floor with her. As I did this, I could see before my own eyes that her health was12improving and able to walk more steadily. On her last day in hospital, just before her niece's 13, she wrote me one last note, "I couldn't have done this14you; I love you." After kissing goodbye, I had a strong sense of achievement. I realized that moments like this were

    15I woke up early for16 in the hospital and spent long hours with her. I truly felt, and her17confirmed, that I was an18 part of this woman's recovery. My experience with this patient shows me that this career allows me to touch the19of people in ways that people in other20will never get to experience.

    Once there was a very brilliant creative and learned man. He gained much 1 while traveling throughout the world. Unfortunately he lost his legs and left arm in a traffic accident, leaving only a finger and thumb on his right hand. He became so 2 that he was afraid he would spend his life 3 and would no longer be able to use his life in a(n)4 way.

    One day, he remembered how he had always loved getting 5. He realized that he still had partial 6 of his right hand and could write with 7. Then, he had an idea. "Why not write to other people who need encouragement?

    He 8 where he could find those who could be encouraged if they read his letters. He thought of people in 9. Many of them had hope of regaining their 10. Others would keep feeling depressed and remain put away for the rest of their lives. He decided that he must try to 11 them. So he wrote to a prison ministry about sending letters to the prisoners. The prison minister replied that writing to the prisoners would be 12. However, it would be against prison rules for the prisoners to write back.

    13 with the intention, the man began sending 14 messages of God's love, hope, strength, and encouragement. He wrote twice a week, testing his strength and ability to the 15. He poured his heart and soul into his words, 16 his experience, sense of humor, optimism, and faith.

    It was difficult to write those letters, especially without hope of any 17. Frequently, he felt discouraged, wondering if anyone 18 read his letters. However, this was his 19chance, so he determined to continue.

    At last, he received a letter from the prison officer, which said, "Please write on the best paper you can afford. Your letters are passed from cell (牢房) to cell until they almost fall to 20!"

    We all have unique experiences, abilities and talents. We can discover ways to reach others in need of encouragement and strength.