1 . Standing on the shore of a lake, I can’t help but feel surprised at the thousands of small rocks that surround my boots. They were all created from _________ surfaces, their edges softening over time. I wonder, “Can we learn from a pile of rocks?”

Even the tallest mountains have _________; none are as tall as they were 1,000 years ago. And much like a rock, I’ve found my _________ has softened and my desire to better understand others has expanded with each trip around the sun.

_________, I was also a sharp rock covered in pointy edges. Today, after decades of the waters of life coursing over me, my edges are softer and I’m more _________. I’m less likely to judge and more interested in learning how we can _________ together.

But I’m not a _________. I’m a human filled with all the drama built into my DNA.

Two years ago, while traveling in the Pacific Northwest, I watched a restaurant owner ask several young men to _________ for not wearing masks. Not _________ and not rude. On the door read a sign, “Please wear a mask before entering our restaurant. We don’t like it either, but let’s all do what we can to __________ this together.”

The group of young men wanted to __________ about the note. I sat at the restaurant watching, understanding both sides. I’ve been one of them before, using my youthful edges to chip away at (削弱) the world. What I lost, __________, was the ability to grow from __________ by looking through the eyes of others. In learning to be more __________, I’ve also found more happiness and success.

You can fit more rounded rocks in a jar than those with sharp edges. The former look for ways to __________ and make room for others, while the latter never give an __________ to accommodate others.

__________, like the waters rolling against once sharp stones, changes us by washing away our resistance to __________ the world from someone else’s point of view.

I placed a __________ stone into my jacket pocket. Mother Nature is holding a __________ again.