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    I put my carry-on in the luggage compartment(行李舱架),

    and sat down in my seat.Just before take-off,a line of soldiers came down the aisle（过道） and filled all the empty seats.

    After flying for about an hour, an announcement was made that sack lunch （午餐袋）were available for $5.As I reached for my wallet to buy one, I overheard the soldier ask his buddy if he planned to buy lunch. "No, that seems like a lot of money for just a sack lunch.I'll wait till we get to Chicago."His friend agreed.

    I looked around at the other soldiers.None were buying lunch.I walked to the back of the plane,and handed the flight attendant（服务人员）a $50 bill. "Take a lunch to all those soldiers."

    After we finished eating. I went again to the back of the plane, heading for the restroom. A man stopped me." I saw what you did.I want to be part of it. Here, take this." He handed me $25.

    Soon after I returned to my seat, I saw the Flight Captain coming down the aisle.

    When he got to my row, he stopped and said," I want to shake your hand. I was a soldier and I was a military（军队） pilot. Once, someone bought me a lunch.It was an act of kindness I never forgot."I was embarrassed when applause（掌声） was heard from all of the passengers.

    Later I walked to the front of the plane so I could stretch my legs.A man who was seated about six rows in front of me reached out his hand, wanting to shake mine. He left another $25 in my hand.

    We landed in Chicago, I picked up my belongings.Waiting just inside the airplane door was a man who stopped me and put something in my shirt pocket. Another $25.

    Upon entering the terminal（航站楼）,I saw the soldiers gathering for their trip to their base.

    I walked over to them and handed them $75."It will take you some time to reach the base.It will be about time for a sandwich. God Bless You." I said.

    These soldiers were giving their all for our country. I could only give them a couple of meals.It seemed so little.

    My name is Paul. My parents and I live in a small house in the forest(森林). There are many trees around our house. A lot of animals live in the forest. Sometimes we can see cute deer(鹿) near our house. Deer are my favorite animal. I also like birds. They always sing happily in the trees. There is a lake behind our house. The water is very clean. I often swim in the lake in summer. My father likes fishing in the lake. My mother is good at cooking, so we often have delicious fish to eat. My pet cat Angela can enjoy a big fish dinner often.

    As a volunteer teacher, I traveled a long way to a small village school in Longzhou, Guangxi. On my way there, I thought about the village, the school, and the children there. However, my heart sank when I arrived there. It wasn't what I expected. It didn't look like a school at all! The school had only three rooms, one for Grades 1, 2 and 3, and the other for Grades 4, 5 and 6. There was a third one for me.

    The children welcomed me warmly on my first day. They asked me a lot of questions, and I told them stories about myself and my life in Beijing. The next day, I gave them a test to find out their level（水平）. To my surprise, though the test was very easy, over half of the students couldn't pass it. I knew they needed me.

    I was busy preparing lessons, reading test papers every night. I enjoyed teaching these lovely and hard-working children, and I could see that they were making progress with my help. I have also learned a lot from them. I understand their lives better, and we are now good friends.

    I have worked in Longzhou for a year now. I'm happy, and the experience has been very useful for me. I love the small village and the children. In fact, I would like to continue working here.

    A man took a pair of shoes to a shoe repair shop and said to the shoemaker, "I'd like you to repair these shoes for me, please."

    "Certainly, sir, "the shoemaker said.

    "When will they be ready?" the man asked.

    "I'm a bit busy, but they'll be ready for you on Thursday." he said. "That's fine, "the man said, and left the shop.

    The next morning he received a letter, offering him a job in another country. Within 24 hours he was on an airplane to his new job.

    Twenty years passed and he returned to his home town. He remembered his shoes. "They were a good pair of shoes," he thought. "I wonder if the shoemaker is still there and still has them. I'll go and see. "He was pleased to see that the shoemaker was still in the same shop, although he was an old man by now.

    "Good morning, "he said to him." Twenty years ago, I brought in a pair of shoes to be repaired. Do you think you've still got them?"

    "Name?" the old shoemaker asked.

    "Smith, "the man said.

    "I'll go and see. They may be out back. "

    The shoemaker went out to the back of his shop and a few minutes later returned, carrying the pair of shoes.

    "Here we are, "he said." One pair of brown shoes to be repaired. I'm a bit busy now, but they'll probably be ready on Thursday."

    I live in Mentone, a quiet, simple, restful place, where the rich never come. I met Theophile Magnan, a retired, rich, old man from Lyons yesterday. In the Hotel des Anglais. Theophile looked sad and dreamy, and didn't talk with anybody else. Which brought me back to the past.

A long time ago, Francois Millet. Claude, Carl and I were young artists — very young artists — in fact.

    Yes, Francois Millet. The great French artist, was my friend.

Millet wasn't any greater than we were at that time. He didn't have any fame, even in his own village.

    We were all poor though we had stacks and stacks of as good pictures as anybody in Europe painted. Once a person ever offered four francs for Millet's "Angelus", which he intended to sell for eight.

    It was a fact in human history that a great artist would never be acknowledged* until after he was starved and dead. His pictures climbed to high prices after his death.

    Then we made a decision that one of us must die, to save the others and himself.

    Millet was elected to die.

    During the next three months Millet painted with all his might, enlarged his stock all he could, not pictures, not sketches, studies, parts of studies, fragments of studies, of course, with his cipher *  on them.

    They were the things to be sold.

    Carl went to Paris to start the work of building up Millet's name. Claude and I went to sell Millet's small pictures and to build up his name as well.

    We made Millet a master. I always said to my customer, "I am a fool to sell a picture of Francois Millet's at all, for he is not going to live three months, and when he dies his pictures can't be had for love or money."

    Claude and I took care to spread that little fact as far as we could.

Carl made friends with the correspondents, and got Millet's condition reported to England and all over the continent, and America, and everywhere.

    The sad end came at last, Millet died, not really.  He became Theophile Magnan.

    The pictures went up. There's a man in Paris today who owns seventy Millet pictures. He paid us two million francs for them. Do you still remember the "Angelus"? Carl sold it for twenty—two hundred francs. And as for the bushels of sketches and studies which Millet produced in the last six weeks, well, it would astonish you to know the figure we sell them at nowadays.

    We are no longer artists and Millet dead.