My father was born in a poor village in the north of Jiangsu, China. When he was a young boy, he went to school in the morning, and then 1 in the fields till sunset. And then he did his homework until midnight. Life was hard, because they had no 2!

    At the age of 14, my father heard of the United States of America. It was the 3 of gold, the land where poor people can become rich.

   “Why don't I go to America?” he thought to himself, full of 4.

    So, my father came to America. “I had thought it was easy to 5 money in America.” he told me. “But when I arrived there, I realized it's not 6. They didn't like to hire(雇佣) me because I spoke little English. Later, I worked in a small restaurant, cleaning up tables, 7 dishes and sweeping the floor. Life was hard for the first few years. I worked from 10 a. m. to 11 p. m. I wanted to go to school to learn English, but it's impossible. I couldn't 8 the schooling(学费).”

    My father 9 working hard，and reached his goal.

  “Alan,” he often told me. “If you want something, you have to work for it and never give up. Things do not come  10 in life.” That's what I learned from my father.

    There was once a boy who would never get dressed when his parents told him to. He1 to dress in a much stranger manner, but above all, he liked to take his time. His parents were 2 in a hurry, and wanted him to be a lot quicker,3the boy didn't like this, and he would slow down even more.

    One day, his parents were in their usual hurry, and they got so4when he refused to dress, that they told him that he would have to go out naked (赤裸的). The5didn't mind (介意) this at all. So they went out.

    While the boy was standing naked outside his house, waiting for his parents to6the car, the local pig farmer came along. The pig farmer was hard of hearing and had poor eyesight. Not only that, but he'd also forgotten to put his7on that day. When he saw the little boy's pink skin, he thought it was one of his pigs. With a bit of shouting and pushing, the farmer8to get the boy safely back to a pigsty. He was there for the whole day, living 9the pigs and sharing their food and home.

    Finally, though, his parents found him. The boy had had such a10day that never again did he want to be mistaken for anything except a human being. Nowadays he's the first to get dressed, and look perfectly neat and tidy.

Painting from Memory

    I was born in Damyang, a beautiful place known for its bamboo forests in Korea. I spent much time in the forests painting pictures of the1. Painting is one of my talents. I lived there until last year when my family moved to New York. My mother, a scientist, was asked to come work here.

    There are no bamboo forests, I said, there is nothing to 2 in NewYork. Don't worry, you will find many things to see and paint there, my mother said. I still felt 3 . But I will miss home, I said. Then you can paint pictures of your favorite places. They will make you feel at home even in New York, she said. So when we moved, I brought my forest paintings with me.

    New York was not easy at first. I missed home a lot. Yet when I looked at my paintings of bamboo, I felt much better. I soon 4 friends at school too. They also like painting, and we now paint in a group after school.

    Last month, we had a new neighbor, Varvara, an old lady who moved from Russia, to be closer to her daughter. She was sad to leave her home. My mother and I often visited her. She told us her unbearable homesick and everything about her hometown Vyborg. I could 5 her home in my head.

    Varvara missed her home so much that she became ill. I worried about her and I wanted to do something for her. I had ever been in her 6 before. At least, I had my forest paintings of home. However, she didn't even have that. Unless …

    A few days later, I met Varvara on the stairs. She looked better but still sad. I gave her my gift: a painting of Vyborg. I had painted it from her 7 .

    She began to cry as she saw the painting. At first, I was worried that she didn't like it. Later, she told me that those were tears of joy. I knew just how she 8 wherever you go, hometown is always with you.

    Last night I was driving from Harrisburg to Lewisburg, a 1of about eighty miles. It was late and I was in a hurry. However, if anyone asked me how fast I was driving, I'd say I was not over-speeding (超速). Several times I got2 behind a slow-moving truck on a narrow road, and I was holding my fists tightly with impatience.

    At one point along an open highway, I 3 a crossroad with a traffic light. I was alone on the road by now, but as I got near to the light, it turned red and I braked to a stop. I looked left, right and behind me. Nothing. Not a car, no suggestion of headlights, but there I sat, waiting for the light to4, the only human being for at least a mile in any5.

    I started6 why I refused to run the light. I was not afraid of being fined, because there was obviously no policeman around, and there certainly would have been no7 in going through it.

    Much later that night, after I8 a group of my friends in Lewisburg and climbed into bed near midnight, the question of why I'd stopped for that light came back to me. I think I stopped because it's part of a contract (合同) we all have with each other. It's not only the 9, but it's an arrangement we have, and we trust each other to10 it: we don't go through red lights. Like most of us, I'm more likely to be11 from doing something bad by the social conventions (社会习俗) that stand by it than by any law against it.

    It's amazing that we ever trust each other to do the right thing, isn't it? I was so12of myself for stopping for the red light that night.

    A young man was a thief. He stole(盗窃) something valuable1a rich man. Some policemen2him and put him into prison. Before he went into prison, he wanted to have a talk with his3.

    His mother went to the police station to visit her son. He said to his mother, I have something to4you, Mum. Bring your5near me. When she did that, he nearly bit off her ear. The policemen were6and they asked him7he did that.

    "I did that because I wanted to punish her," he said. "When I was young, I began stealing small things. I brought them home to her. She never punished8. She always laughed and said, 'You are so lucky. Nobody9you steal them.' It is because of her that I am here today."

    10are the first teacher for children. They must teach their children how to tell right from wrong.