My first lesson is at a meeting. As we settle around the table I hear Meg, who is 1 a recent operation, talking to Judith, the manager of our project. “Thank you so much for 2 my daughters to their dance lessons last week.” “Don't mention it,” Judith says, “It was nothing.”

    Knowing how 3 Judith's schedule is, with her work, kids and aging parents, I find her driving Meg's children to lessons unbelievably 4. I am about to say more about this when Donna, another colleague, enters the room 5. She apologizes for being late, saying she just hosted a lunch for her friends who are over seventy. “That is so nice of you,” I say, 6 how busy she is, how she doesn't like to cook and clean. “Oh,” she says, waving her hand, “It was nothing.” 7, I can still tell the 8 in her voice. She did gain a sense of satisfaction from the entertainment offered to her friends.

    Seeing their 9 to help others selflessly, I start thinking about the concept of “nothing”, this peaceful and generous way of living — had it really been nothing or are they simply saying that? It 10 to me that once I spent a whole afternoon after work helping a friend 11 a speech she was going to deliver. I 12 her to rearrange the sequence of the stories in the lecture to make it sound more 13. After the fifth try, she finally 14 it . She hugged me with 15, saying thanks to me. I smiled and said it was nothing.

    Suddenly, I realized that helping someone was really something to me. I learned that giving from the heart doesn't 16 mean sacrifice and hard work. The 17 is finding something we love to do and finding someone who 18 that something. Our generosity can benefit others 19 ourselves. Once you have a good 20 of it, it's nothing. And it's really something.

    My whole life began to make more sense after I was diagnosed with Turner syndrome（特纳综合征）at 12. Before that, I1understood why when the rest of my classmates were growing like weeds, I 2a seed stuck in the ground. I had always struggled being the3girl in my class and was known as “Shorty” . Though this 4 me deeply, I refused to let my classmates5my enthusiasm for school and learning. I 6 lots of after-school activities, though they sometimes presented problems. Because girls with Turner syndrome tend to have 7coordination (协调), I hardly had any athletic ability. I loved to sing, but it proved 8to share a microphone with a group of girls seven inches taller. Despite this, I 9 to drive myself to prove that heart and brains could make up for lack of 10. Once diagnosed, I was given a 11plan that involved daily growth hormone (激素) injections. I am the type of person who 12 a doctor's appointment for weeks in advance, 13 getting used to injections every day — and even worse, giving them to myself — was a true test of my character.14 , I got over this difficulty and after five years, I have grown 11 inches. This was a(n) 15 response and I consider it my own little miracle. I am not 16that I have Turner syndrome. It has built up my character and17me into the person I am today. I have learned that you need to try your best to 18the difficulties in your life. Someone once told me, “No one can make you feel inferior (自卑) without your permission.”This statement has always 19 me and so I will journey on to the next stage of my life with  20and self-confidence.

    The whole school was talking about the coming trip at a winter camp. And everyone was 1, except me.

    "I'll hate it," I told my parents. "I'll get homesick (想家的). I'll look stupid at winter sports, and everyone will 2 me. "

    "You might be surprised, Bree," said Mom. "The only way to find out is to 3."

    "It's what growing up is all about," Dad added.

    When 4 the camp, we were asked to share one 5.

    "I'm afraid I'll be homesick," someone said.

    I wasn't the only one?! I began to 6. After lunch, we were asked to ski (滑雪) down to the field. I skied 7, but I still hit a piece of ice and 8.

    "Ha! Ha!" Behind me, somebody started laughing. I 9 to see who was making fun of me. To my 10, I saw a girl in the same awkward (尴尬的) position I was in. "I thought I'd be bad at this, 11 I'm worse than I expected!" she said.

    12, I started laughing too. After being so 13 of falling, it was a comfort not to fear it anymore.

    At dinnertime, I was so happy to be talking about interesting things that I 14 to feel homesick.

    The next day, I was 15 to try ski jumping first, even though I didn't want to. But when my feet left the ground, I felt I was 16 and it was wonderful.

    Maybe Dad was right when he said "You might 17 it if you give it a chance!"

    Maybe the kind of 18 Mom and Dad were talking about had more to do with my outlook (态度）than my looks. We all 19 fitting in and failing when we try 20 things. Sometimes you've got to fall on your face to discover how much you've got in common.

    When I was in middle school, I tried my best to be popular. However, one afternoon, I had a(n) 1 with my mother, which changed my mind eventually.

    We were sitting in the dining area of a local restaurant. I told her that I wanted to be 2. She asked me why I felt that way. 3, I had never stopped to think about why I felt the need to fit in. I 4 did.

    My mother told me a story. My grandmother made her several 5 sweater vests. Although those were hardly “in style”, my mother really 6 to wear them. What was surprising was that many other female students at my mother's school began 7 sweater vests after a few weeks. My mother had started a 8. What she wore became fashionable because the other students saw the 9 with which she dressed.

    At that time, the information was too much for a thirteen-year-old girl to 10. I didn't believe her. I thought my mother was 11. So I continued to wear the same clothes, seeking popularity as usual — I had not yet seen the 12 at the end of a dark tunnel (隧道)then. However, our conversation that day 13 over and over in my mind.

    I thought long and carefully, and then I 14 that my mother's words might have some 15. I began to check my wardrobe (衣柜) to find which items I'd bought because I truly like them. I also16 my actions, trying to determine how many of them I wore to 17 the crowd. Gradually, I found myself 18 less and less what people thought about me. I was greatly 19.

    The conversation I had with my mother was a 20 lesson for me. Sometimes swimming against the current can only make me stronger.

The True Story of Treasure Island

    It was always thought that Treasure Island was the product of Robert Louis Stevenson's imagination. 1 recent research has found the true story of this exciting work.

    Stevenson, a Scotsman, had lived 2 for many years. In 1881 he returned to Scotland for a 3. With him were his American wife Fanny and his son 4.

    Each morning Stevenson would take them out for a long 5 over the hills. They had been 6 this for several days before the weather suddenly took a turn for the worse. Kept indoors by the heavy rain, Lloyd felt the days 7.To keep the boy happy, Robert asked the boy to do some 8.

    One morning, the boy came to Robert with a beautiful map of an island, Robert 9that the boy had drawn a large cross in the middle of 10. "What's that?" he asked. "That's the 11 treasure," said the boy. Robert suddenly 12 something of an adventure story in the boy's 13. While the rain was pouring, Robert sat down by the fire to write a story. He would make the 14 a twelve-year-old boy, just like Lloyd. But who would be the pirate (海盗)？

    Robert had a good friend named Henley, who walked around with the 15 of a wooden leg. Robert had always wanted to 16 such a man in a story. 17 Long John Silver, the pirate with a wooden leg, was 18.

    So, thanks to a 19 September in Scotland, a friend with a wooden leg, and the imagination of a twelve-year-old boy, we have one of the greatest 20 stories in the English language.

    I still remember that the year when I started university. It was a very 1 time for me. Like many other new students I missed my mother's cooking and my friends, got quite homesick and 2 thought of leaving university and going home.

    The 3 me for many students was getting letters from home, and at first my mailbox was full. But 4 the letters gradually became fewer and finally the day came when I found my mailbox was 5. It made me feel quite miserable. Then one day while I was waiting for the postman I saw that I had a postcard in my box. Happily I sat down to read it, 6 that it was from one of my friends. 7 it was 8 of a young woman called Annie and her new baby. I took the card back to my room, put it into my desk drawer and 9 all about it.

    Several days later, I 10 another postcard. This time it was about Antonio, Annie's cousin. Soon later, another card came and then another, 11 full of interesting information about people I had 12 met. I began to really look forward to them,13 to see what the writer would 14 next. They made me feel 15 unhappy with my own life and I even began to smile. 16 while the cards 17 coming, I joined some societies and made some new friends. At last I was beginning to enjoy 18life. The postcards had made me feel happy and helped me begin a new life so I 19 all the cards and even now bring them out 20 I feel miserable.