3 . Frank Herbert’s science fiction Dune was the first coming-of-age story that helped me survive my lonely junior high school. At age 12, my life was the tiny, boring cycle of home, school and my parents’ store. Dune cracked it all open and led me to a universe that made my little world a lot more bearable. Unlike Holden Caulfield in The Catcher in the Rye who kept breaking windows, Dune’s main character, Paul Atreides, equipped me with a junior-high survival guide.

Paul is not a classic underdog. He’s the son of a king. He’s been trained since birth in war arts, politics and critical survival skills by a group of smart and experienced men with impossible-to-pronounce names. But when his world is turned upside down-when he leaves his home, loses his father and enters a physically and politically hostile environment-he doesn’t complain and cry. He adapts.

To this day, I still can recite his words against fear: “I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total destruction. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.”

The steady diet of literary fiction assigned by my teachers was escapist and the very act of reading (whatever the content) usually took me out of a given moment, but didn’t provide much advice on how to face my daily conflicts and painful insecurity.

Dune was escapist, too. However, it was expansive and literally redefined possibility for me who had been struggling along with eyes on the ground, just trying to make it through another day of boredom and hardship of being a teenage girl. Paul lifted my eyes up so I could see the stars.

4 . After a lifetime watching football with my father, a cancer diagnosis means I will have to go alone. And this is my dad’s last match.

Out of the lift, we made directly for the seats. The atmosphere was pleasant, without any final-day tension.

The only goal came just after half an hour. That, I think, was the last goal Dad ever saw, but I can’t be certain he did see it. Several times I’d glanced at Dad; on each occasion his eyes had been gazing out of the stadium.

Half-time came and went. I spent it following him in and out of the toilets, making sure he remembered his way back and meanwhile showing the way to some elders. The second half passed without goals. Dad sat in his seat, waiting for the whistle to end the match.

As soon as the last of the players had passed us, the goodbyes began all around us, the air quickly filling with the usual “see you in August” and “have a great summer”. Dad had tried to hide his tears. But by the time Frank and Dave and all the other matchday friends he’d made over the years had started to say their goodbyes, he could no longer disguise them. The tears streamed from him like I’d never seen before. But it was the noise that accompanied them which was the worst part: a long loud high cry; the cry of a child, yet coming from a man in his seventies. Awkwardly, I put an arm around his shoulders to comfort him. He cupped his hands over his face and continued to sob.

He was trembling when he stood up and reached for my hand as we headed towards the top of the steps.

This was it: the end. 25 years after he’d led me into Old Trafford stadium by the hand for my first game, here I was, leading him by his as he left for a final time. At the top of the steps, he grasped the handrail and began to descend, giving no final glance back at the field as he went.

5 . My grandparents’ tiny farm is surrounded with rolling hills in Brazil. That’s where they work and _________ coffee fruit. At my grandparents’ home, coffee is usually served sickly sweet and never _________ even in the middle of summer. And we drink the coffee out of little glass cups _________ by the wood stove(炉子).

Although I have _________ the coffee fruit on the trees and watched firsthand as my grandparents spread the fruit onto big, wavy multicolored sheets under the sun to _________, there isn’t a coffee culture there.

I first heard the _________ when I started to work at a cafe that served the tourists, students and professors in Harvard Square, in New York City. I was told that my grandparents’ process for _________ coffee is just one of the many ways to do it. For example, the fruit can be dried in the sun or in a big machine, or washed first. All these _________ can change the way the coffee tastes. I also learned that the fruit from different _________ have different tastes. Mexican coffee tends to be lighter while Vietnamese coffee is __________.

Since then, when I __________ and make my first cup of coffee in the morning, I do it like __________ a sacred ceremony. I know that the fruit has traveled far, and been __________. Someone has probably lost sleep over them when bad __________ was in the forecast(预报). It only feels right for me to make sure to let my brain go blank(空白)and see where it takes me, when I __________ it.

At first I didn’t want to be a traffic police officer. I wanted to be a criminal police officer. When I     1     (assign) to the traffic police at the beginning, I was a little     2     (disappoint).

Later I found out that traffic police is the most commonly seen on the street, and there is indeed a lot of danger. With our help, traffic problems can be tackled, and life can run     3     (smooth).

There are the motorcycles     4     weigh more than 250 kilograms, still not quite suitable for women. In times like this, my passion for this job is what keeps me going. I first got a motorcycle rider’s License and enrolled in a gym to do     5     (strong) training. You have to be able     6     (handle) the motorcycle first before riding it.

If there’s     7     emergency, such as a pregnant woman or someone else needing to get to the hospital urgently. When we’re on duty, if a driver sees us, he or she pulls over and urges us to intervene,     8     (say) something like, “Can you help us get through? We’re     9     the way to the hospital.” We can clear the way right away.     10     time permits, we even get the person to the hospital. Moments like this make me feel very proud.

Bill is a retired oil field engineer. His hands are thick, and his fingers branch out in all directions. He moved back to America late in his career. His wife died of a serious disease so he had to raise his three daughters on his own. In my parents’ eyes, Bill is hardworking and helpful.

Every day, when I pass by his yard to go to school in the morning, I often see him standing in his front door, smiling at me. But in my heart, Bill is the last person I am willing to talk with in the world. When I was 7 years old, I picked fruits in his garden without his permission. He scolded (责骂) me severely and let me apologize to him in front of my parents. I hated him and swore (发誓) not to talk with him any more. What’s more, there is a scar (伤疤) on his face, which makes me more afraid to get close to him.

Recently, Bill, in his seventies, invited my friends in our neighborhood to his house to spend weekends. Of course, Bill also invited me several times but I turned him down.

My friends told me that they were surprised to find Bill was also experienced in playing basketball, and they invited Bill to teach them to play basketball on weekends. Besides, Bill often offered them sodas. It’s rare to see a bond that bridges generations. But I didn’t care all of these any longer.

One week ago, my friends came to my home and expected me to join their basketball team to have a match with the team from another neighborhood. I like playing basketball and I am good at it so I agreed immediately. But when I was told Bill would give us guidance and it was he that let my friends invite me to join the team, I hesitated. Eventually, I was persuaded to have a try.

The match started. Because I wanted to prove myself, I tried my best to shoot every time I caught the ball. I didn’t pass the ball to my teammates. Ten minutes passed and our team didn’t win one point.

I felt at a loss when Bill called time out.

When each player in our team was celebrating our winning the game, I came up to Bill.

8 . Richard made Washington his home 36 years ago. For most of that time, he _________ for the YMCA, a nonprofit. After retiring, he took a _________ but returned to the working world in 2013 to serve as the CEO of the Spokane YMCA.

Richard said, “All through my professional career, I _________ myself to health and fitness programs. So I knew _________ was important. But I was always _________ in my work and couldn’t spare time to do it.”

In 2015, a motorcycle accident happened to Richard and he stayed in hospital for two months. The waist _________ left him with nerve damage in his right leg. He was _________ and always locked himself at home. One day, his physical therapist (理疗师) _________ him to hike or bike to make a good recovery. At first, he _________ but finally chose hiking.

Richard made a specific plan, but it didn’t go   ________ as expected. At one time he even wanted to __________, but his therapist said, “The more you get out and move, challenge yourself, the better. Believe in yourself.” Hearing the words, Richard got up the __________ and started with short walks, working up to a couple of miles, then longer. Eventually, he __________ it.

Richard enjoys hiking with family. He loves seeing his grandchildren interested in hiking, and believes time on the path is teaching them other __________ as well. “I think they’re going to respect the environment and have a(n) __________ for it,” he said.

9 . Many years ago, I swam the English Channel and people think I’m a superhuman and fearless. Last year I _________ for a 10 km mass-participation swimming race. I _________ last year’s results and calculated that, at my current _________, I would probably have come last. I was _________ about pulling out.

But when January came around, I decided to have another _________. For a few months, I trained hard, but I didn’t get any _________. Then on June 5, the event kicked off at 9:30. As the day wore on, I somehow didn’t mind that, _________, almost everyone was ahead. Certainly, there were a _________ of swimmers still near me, and _________ we shared the same river, we quietly occupied our own spaces. As I __________ doing my own thing, I realized I was enjoying myself.

In the end, it took me four hours and 29 minutes to complete the __________ journey. As I struggled out of water, I was greeted with __________ cheers and applause. I noticed there were many swimmers, behind me, out of a __________ of around 300 event-goers. At that moment, I was just __________, proud and happy to finish. My __________ of coming last gently died away.

Bill McDonnell, who was a soldier when young, was a 92-year-old now, still healthy and strong. He loved hunting very much. On December 15, Bill decided to go hunting in Shenandoah Mountain the next day as the deer season had begun. His wife Joanna McDonnell intended to let their son Bill McDonnell Jr. accompany him, but Bill Jr. had a football game that day. Bill McDonnell said he could manage all by himself. Joanna then required Bill to be out of the woods by 2 pm and home by 3 pm, plenty of time before sunset. She added, “ Do take some necessities like a flashlight, just in case.”

The next morning, Bill woke up at four, grabbed his muzzleloader (前装枪), and steered his Jeep toward Shenandoah Mountain. At the end of the old Laurel Run logging road, he began to walk. It was about 7:30 am and 25 degrees when the sun peeked through the trees.

Not long into the hike, he came upon a path he didn't remember. Maybe this was a secret route to the king of all bucks (雄鹿). He took it. Then, around 11 am, he came into a clearing (林中空地) along a ridge line (山脊线). He had walked farther than he had expected. It seemed that his path up the mountain had meandered quite a bit. “Where am I now?” he muttered. Bill figured he could drop into the valley, hunt a bit and then go back home. But when he snaked down through the forest, he found there was no path at all. The forest was thick. It was hard to tell the direction now.

By around 2 pm, Bill stopped at somewhere in the valley, exhausted. “I’ll get it figured out,” he said to himself. He took out his phone to call his wife, but the phone had died. He dug into his pants for the GPS device he always brought in case of emergency and pushed the “on” button. Nothing. He had forgotten to charge it the night before.

“No, I’m not lost,” he told himself. His eyes caught a stand of tall trees. He remembered admiring the line of fantastic oaks and pines earlier. Reach them and the car wouldn’t be that far off. It meant he would have to cover some ground.

He was moving slower and slower, Joanna‘s 3 pm deadline having passed.

It was about 9:45 pm when Bill heard the whoop-whoop-whoop of a helicopter.