“How does the yard look?” My father asked, with his eyes shining. I could tell he was eagerly waiting for my   (1)  . “Wonderful!” I replied after I gave it a thorough  (2)  . Then I recited all the changes I had  (3)  in his yard and he smiled contently.

       When I was young, my mother  (4)  in a car accident, leaving my father alone to  (5)  their three young daughters. At the beginning, life was not always  (6)  and my younger sisters usually complained. However, Dad always  (7)  us to believe that life was good. Meanwhile, he tried his best to  (8)  that belief.

       In 1972, my dad developed a piece of waste land that had been  (9)  on Okaloosa Island. Every year at the first sign of  (10)  , he would begin spending countless hours working there to make it be bursting with colors. Through his continuous hard work, the land  (11)  turned into a beautiful garden with different types of flowers and other unique plants. While our friends were enjoying their vacation through traveling to different places, we were  (12)  working with my dad in his yard, watering the flowers, weeding or cutting off the branches. Sometimes, our friends were envious of our working vacation, and we would  (13)  them. Dad made his yard very  (14)  so that it became our vacation paradise during our childhood.

       For so many years, when we were  (15)  , we liked to visit Dad’s yard, because it could  (16)  us of Dad’s belief. It was Dad and his yard that gave us  (17)  that enabled us to survive and   (18)  major challenges in life. One day, it shocked us that Dad said he would not  (19)  the yard. Then he explained, “Twenty years ago I decided to start my work in that yard to tell you life is good. Now my work is done.” We were sitting in  (20)  , recalling what we had experienced. Life was good. Dad was right.

It was the end of my first day as waitress in a busy New York restaurant. My cap had gone away，and my feet were _41___.The loaded plates I carried __42__ to be heavier and heavier. Tired and discouraged，I wasn’t able to do anything _43___.As I made out a check for a family with several children who had changed their ice-­cream __44__ a dozen times，I was ready to stop. Then the father __45__ at me as he handed me my tip. “Well done，”he said，“you’ve __46__ us really well.” Suddenly my tiredness __47__.I smiled back，and later，when the __48__ asked me how I’d like my first day，I said，“Fun！” Those few words of praise had _49___ everything. Praise is like __50__ to the human spirit；we cannot grow without it. And __51__，while most of us are only too __52__ to apply to others the cold wind of criticism，we are _53__ to give our fellows the warm sunshine of praise. Why—when one word of praise can bring such _54___？

It is strange how chary(吝啬的) we are about praising. Perhaps it’s __55__ few of us know how to accept it. It’s __56__ rewarding to give praise in areas in which _57__ generally goes unnoticed or unmentioned. An artist gets admired for a glorious picture，a cook for a _58___ meal. But do you ever tell your laundry manager how pleased you are when the shirts are __59__ just right？In fact，to give praise __60__ the giver nothing but a moment’s thought and a moment’s effort.

 I used to live selfishly, I should admit.. But one moment changed me. 

 I was on my lunch break and had __41__the office to get something to eat. On the way, I __42__a Busker (街头艺人)，with a hat in front of him.  I had some __43__ in my pocket, but I would not give them to him, thinking to myself he would __44__ use the money to feed his addiction to drugs or alcohol. He __45__ like that type –young and ragged. __46__ what was I going to spend the money on? Only to feed my addiction to Coca-Cola or chocolate! I then __47__ I had no right to place myself above __48__ just because he was busking.

 I __49__ and dropped all the coins into his __50__, and he smiled at me. I watched for a while. As __51__ as it sounds, I expected something more to come from that moment—a feeling of __52__ or satisfaction, for example. But nothing happened. __53__, I walked off. “It proved to be a waste of __54__,” I thought.

On my way home at the end of the __55__, I saw the busker again and he was __56__. I watched him pick up the hat and walk __57__ a café counter. There he poured the __58__ contents into a tin collenting__59__ an  earthquake fund-raising(募捐) event. He was busking for charity!

Now I donate any __60__ I have to charity tins and enjoy the feeling of giving.

I was at the funeral of my mother. She   (1)   had lost her long battle with cancer. I could felt the   (2)   from time to time. It was I, her 27-year-old child, who   (3)   her from the start to the end, because my brother    (4)   his childhood sweetheart and they were soon   (5)   with their newly-born baby. I counted it a(an)   (6)   to be able to spend my time with my dearest mom.

I was deep in   (7)  . My brother sat next to me,   (8)   his wife’s hand. I looked at the empty seat on my left, _  (9)   had been the place for my mother on Sundays.   (10)   she was with God, my work was finished. As the funeral started, a door opened at the back of the   (11)  . A young man looked around   (12)   and took the seat on my left. I saw  (13)   in his eyes.

While listening to the memorial speech, he asked, “   (14)   do they keep calling Mary by the name of ‘Margaret’?” “Because that was my mother’s name,” I   (15)  . “No, her name was Mary. She was my aunt.” “I believe you’re at the wrong   (16)  , Sir.” I replied. The man’s mistake was   (17)   and I almost couldn’t help laughing. He laughed too. He had   (18)   his aunt’s funeral.

We dated and got married a year later at the same church. He arrived right   (19)  . Whenever people ask how we met, Rick tells them, “Her mother Margaret and my Aunt Mary   (20)   us in heaven.”

Everyone in the extended family was cut upby the news that Mr. Strict suddenly died of stroke. The funeral was      (1)       for the next day.

We       (2)    in the living room to tell stories, sharing memories of him. We surprisingly found that almost everyone was scolded by him because of our       (3)      remarks or behaviors. However, most people didn’t know that he had worked for thirty years in the community to help the homeless children, or that       (4)       he really didn’t care much for fashion, he loved watching the trendiest fashion shows just because his daughter loved     (5)       He was       (6)      as “Mr. Strict” after I, his youngest grandson, was severely punished by him because I destroyed our neighbor’s lawn. I was not allowed to play with my friends afterwards. I began to tell them how strict my grandfather was, and then I addressed him the      (7)       nickname.

After a while, the conversation turned from       (8)       the memories about my grandpa to stories of how he changed and        (9)      the lives of the younger generation.

My grandpa had lived a life that       (10)        the young and old,        (11)         When you stayed with him, you became a different person, a        (12)       and reformed person. Amazingly, he was        (13)         in doing it. He knew how to show the things that really        (14)        in the life. He always seemed to know how to influence people and to accept them “as it is”. His grandchildren always showed        (15)       acceptance of them, no matter        (16)         

Some things have to be seen to be understood, such as love, forgiveness and        (17)       He had always shown total       (18)          to the family and friends – to people.

The next day grandpa was        (19)       the topic. We were overwhelmed with grief .We buried the body, but fortunately we knew he would live here, present and       (20)        He is always here, giving and loving.

Happiness isn’t about always getting what you want. Happy people understand that sometimes life doesn’t   (1)   their way; life isn’t fair. What they do know, is that you can only do your best,

  (2)   yourself for what doesn’t work, and   (3)   when you need to.

Suffering is an inevitable (不可避免的)   (4)   of humanity. You cannot   (5)   this world without at least a little suffering. Happy people know a   (6)   happiness comes through surviving a deep pain. We learn what we’re truly made of when   (7)   with such hurt.

As hard as you work, and as   (8)   as you try to plan it all out, you’re just not in control. You cannot control the actions or   (9)   of others. In order to reach happiness, happy people accept this inevitable truth and learn to be   (10)   rather than passive to life’s surprises and misfortunes.

If your happiness is   (11)   on how other people feel about you, you will never be happy. You can’t   (12)   everyone and you certainly can’t   (13)   anyone to love you in a specific way. Happy people accept the way their loved ones feel, and work at showing their   (14)   and asking for what they need rather than expecting people to love them the way they want to be loved.

If you believe you are incapable and let that belief   (15)   you from happiness, then   (16)   

you give truth to a self-imposed fallacy (谬论). The only way to improve and succeed at anything is to try and try again. Consider this: who is your   (17)  ? Do you think he or she is so accomplished through a life   (18)   from failure? No! They simply do not let their doubts keep them from happiness.

Unhappy people seek happiness through approval. Unfortunately, that approval is impossible to achieve because it is caused by an inner   (19)  , which keeps them   (20)   striving (奋斗). Happiness can only be achieved through self-acceptance. Yours is the only approval you need.

The Write Feeling

Growing up in a military family, I moved a lot. I mostly went to __  (1)  __ with other kids whose parents were also in the military. But when my dad __  (2)  _ from the Marines after twenty years of service, I found myself __  (3)  __ a civilian school with twelve-year-olds who shared no similar life experience with me.

I was a stranger in a strange land. Everyone in my class had grown up together, and they had no room to _  (4)  _ for a newcomer. I wore different clothes, had different thoughts, and spoke with an accent. I __  (5)  _ for the first few weeks of school. I had no friends, no activities, and no __  (6)  __ of a bright future. To deal with it all, I began __  (7)  __ in my diary every day---stories of adventure, of old friends, of feelings that I could not speak. I wrote as if my life depended on it, as if the very next breath I took could not happen __  (8)  __ I wrote down words.

One day, my teacher, Mrs. Bush, came to me and asked why I always sat there writing instead of playing with others. I told her I enjoyed writing and __  (9)  __ writing to playing. She smiled at me and walked away. About three weeks later, Mrs. Bush gave us a writing assignment. I was __  (10)  _ that I could now participate in something I knew I excelled in.

That night I worked and worked on the essay. I wrote with great __51__. It was my one chance to feel important and _  (11)  _ by the class.

A few days after we handed in our assignments, Mrs. Bush called me up to the __  (12)  __ of the classroom. I stood before thirty pairs of eyes looking at me, and I got __  (13)  __. Was I in trouble? Did I do something wrong?

Then Mrs. Bush told the class how much she __55_ all the work that went into the essay and everyone had done a great job. But, she said, one student stood __  (14)  _ as an excellent writer, one with imagination, creativity, and word mastery. That student was me!

The class clapped politely and Mrs. Bush handed me my paper, with the following __  (15)  __ on it:"Malinda, you are an excellent writer. You fill your paper with the breathings of your heart. Please keep on writing and share your __  (16)  _ of writing with the world. I am proud of you and glad you are in my class."

Mrs. Bush helped me feel a sense of __  (17)  __, a place of purpose, and a way to survive a transition in life. She helped me gain __  (18)  __ in myself that stayed with me beyond sixth grade.

Always Changing

Jack is leaving, and I’m feeling kind of sad.

You probably don’t know Jack, but you might be lucky enough to  (1)  someone just like him. He’s been the heart and soul of the office for a couple of years combining  (2)  professional skills with a sweet and gentle nature.

And now he’s moving on to an exciting new professional   (3)  . It sounds like it could be the chance of a lifetime, and we’re  (4)  for him. But that doesn’t make it any easier to say goodbye to him.

Life has a way of throwing these curve(曲线) balls   (5)  us. Just when we start to get comfortable with a person, a place or a situation, something comes along to   (6)  the recipe. Our ability to cope with change   (7)   , to a great degree, our peace, happiness and contentment in life.

But how do we do that? A friend of mine is fond of reminding us that “survivability depends upon  (8)  .” And then there’s Chris the California surf-rat, who once told me that the answer to life’s problems can be   (9)   in four words: “Go with the flow.”

Iˈm not exactly sure, but I think Chris was saying that life is a series of   (10)  —both good and bad. No matter how excellent your skill, there will always be life-influencing factors over which you have no  (11)  . The truly successful person expects the unexpected, and is prepared to  (12)  adjustments if the need should arise—as it almost   (13)  does.

That doesn’t mean you don’t keep trying to make all your  (14)  come true. It just means that when things come up that aren’t   (15)  in your plan, you work around them—and then you move on.

    “Change, indeed, is painful,   (16)   ever needful,” said philosopher Thomas Carlyle. “And if memory has its force and worth, so also has  (17)  .”

We’re going to miss Jack. But rather than stay on the  (18)  of our parting, we’ll focus on our hopes for a brighter future—for him, and for us. And then we’ll go out and  (19)  everything we can to make that future happen.

       (20)  our plans change—again.

When Walter Dean Myers was growing up, he was frequentlyin trouble. He   (1)  with the other kids at school. He talked   (2)  tohis teachers and was often made to sit in the back of the classroomby himself. But he   (3)  to read. He would   (4)  himself in books.

Today, Myers is the   (5)  of more than 100 books, most ofthem for children. He   (6)  writing for young people because heremembers how much he needed help and   (7)  at that time in life.He was named the National Ambassador for Young PeopleˈsLiterature in 2012. He travels the country,   (8)  kids of all ages toread.

Even at a young age, Myers had a way with   (9)  . He couldamuse   (10)  for hours by writing in his notebooks.One of his poems  (11)  on the first page of his schoolˈs magazine.

Myers was   (12)  in Harlem, a largely black neighborhood inNew York City. As a boy, he loved   (13)  people in hiscommunity(社区). But he couldnˈt find many   (14)  that told the stories of theordinary people he saw in   (15)  life. So he chose to write the kindsof stories he   (16)  he could have had when he was growing up.These stories honestly   (17)  the lives of kids today.“Some kids feeldeserted or   (18)  ,”Myers says,“but theyˈll   (19)  a book of mine andfind themselves or their families.”

It takes a lot of work to write as many books as Myers does,  (20)  he loves it. He wants to do the best that he can with hiswriting.

The journey my daughter Cathy has had with her swimming is as long as it is beautiful.

    Cathy suffered some terrible   (1)  in her early childhood. After years of regular treatment, she  (2)  became healthy.

    Two years ago, while Cathy was watching the Olympics, a dream came into her sweet little head—to be a swimmer. Last summer, she wanted to   (3)  our local swim team. She practiced hard and finally   (4)  it. The team practice,   (5)  , was a rough start. She coughed and choked and could hardly   (6)  her first few weeks. Hearing her coughing bitterly one night, I decided to  (7)  her from it all. But Cathy woke me up early next morning, wearing her swimsuit   (8)  to go! I told her she shouldn’t swim after a whole night’s coughing, but she refused to   (9)  and insisted she go.

   From that day on, Cathy kept swimming and didn’t   (10)  a single practice. She had a  (11)  intention within herself to be the best she could be. My ten—year—old was growing and changing right before my eyes, into this   (12)  human being with a passion and a mission. There were moments of   (13)  of course: often she would be the last swimmer in the race. It was difficult for Cathy to accept that she wasn’t a  (14)  ---ever. But that didn’t stop her from trying.

   Then came the final awards ceremony at the end of the year. Cathy didn’t expect any award but was still there to  (15)  her friends and praise their accomplishments. As the ceremony was nearing the end, I suddenly heard the head coach  (16)  , “The highest honor goes to Cathy!” Looking around, he continued, “Cathy has inspired us with her    (17)  and enthusiasm.  (18)  skills and talents bring great success, the most valuable asset(财富)one can hold is the heart.”

   It was the greatest   (19)  of my daughter’s life. With all she had been  (20)  in her ten years, this was the hour of true triumph(成功).