Every time I sat down with my family and looked through our photos — holidays, trips, or vacations, there was always something missing. It was me. It was not just because I was the one behind the camera, but because I avoided being photographed. I always felt I looked awful in photos.

There were a few photos of me on my birthday that always made me feel bad. Generally speaking, I didn’t hate my appearance; I just wasn’t very photogenic (上相的). Therefore, when it came to family photos, I was missing. Gradually, I didn’t feel and look confident, and seldom smiled.

Then I met Mary. I was attending a writers’ meeting in North Carolina and she was a photographer who was good at photo shooting for writers. As a new writer, I needed a good personal photo for business cards and social media. I decided to give Mary a try.

The day of my appointment (约定) arrived. I picked out clothes that were most suitable for me. I checked myself in the mirror and felt I looked okay, but I was not sure whether the photos would reflect that. By the time Mary was to take photos of me, it began to have a light rain. My hair had started out nicely, but I knew the rain would destroy it.

I unwillingly walked into the room. Mary greeted me with a sunny smile. I felt relaxed. I was sure that she could sense I was not confident about my appearance because she immediately began to comfort me. She promised my photos would be wonderful. And she said how sad it made her that so many women thought so little of their appearance and how much this would hurt their self-respect.

The light rain stopped. Mary led me outside onto the grass-covered grounds of the meeting center. With the bright new green of spring and flowers seen everywhere, it was the perfect place for photos, even on a cloudy day.

Mary first let me stand by a beautiful flower.

The next day, I sat by Mary’s computer and looked through the photos.

The Champion of No Score

Maggie hated Tuesdays—Tuesdays meant gym class, gym class meant picking teams and picking teams meant Maggie would be picked last.

As a newcomer, she’d come up with a special title for each classmate to remember the other kids. There was Kevin, Champion of the Clean Desk. Lynnie, Champion of Knowing the Answer First… Thinking hard, she finally decided her own title: Champion of Quiet.

Maggie felt blue as Tuesday fell again. Mr. Murphy, the gym teacher, asked for volunteer captains to pick their own basketball teams. The usual hands shot into the air. Maggie sighed and glanced to her right. She caught the eye of Jasmine. Champion of Awkward, a girl who was sometimes picked last, too. Then Maggie had an idea. So when Mr. Murphy asked if anyone else wanted to volunteer, Maggie felt her hand slowly rise. Looking again at Jasmine, she took a big breath. Maybe it was time for her to use her voice.

“Maggie?” Mr. Murphy smiled. “You want a turn?”

“Yes,” she said.

The class whispered. Maggie leading a team?

“Yes,” she answered again, louder this time.

Mr. Murphy waved Maggie to the front, where the other three captains—Champion of Jumping Rope, Champion of Never Misses a Shot, and Champion of Doesn’t Know How to Lose—stood, ready to choose their teams.

“Maggie, you get first pick,” said Mr. Murphy. “Jasmine,” announced Maggie. The class snickered. A joke? More than once, Jasmine had tried to score on the wrong basket. Eyes wide, Jasmine took her place beside Maggie. The other three captains called out familiar names—the best players on the basketball court. It was Maggie’s turn again. “I choose Frank.” Frank (Champion of the Untied Shoelace) could not throw, or catch. He knew what it felt like to be the last pick. But not today.

Three very talented teams took shape. And then there was Maggie’s team. Maggie looked at her teammates. There stood Jasmine and Frank, plus Gillian (Champion of Chatter) and George (Champion of Sleepy). “I have chosen the worst team in the history of the world,” Maggie thought to herself.

Hand in hand, the Maggie team walked onto the court.

They did lose big, but something positive began to unfold in them.

3 . Providing feedback is an essential part of personal and career development.     1     One of the most effective and classic methods to make it easier for both the giver and receiver is the feedback sandwich technique, sometimes also referred to as a compliment (赞美) sandwich.

If you are seeking to enhance your career growth, learning about the feedback sandwich can be a game-changer.     2     Rather than simply focusing on what went wrong, it ensures that the person receiving the feedback also knows what went well. The process can be broken into three parts. A manager or superior starts by providing positive feedback to encourage a person to continue their good work. Afterward, they communicate constructive feedback for the person to improve. This feedback aims to be specific, behavioral, and relevant to the situation.     3    

The feedback sandwich technique is a highly useful method. It can help soften the blow of criticism. By starting and ending with positive feedback, it’s easier for the recipient to receive the constructive criticism without feeling attacked.     4     As we all know, criticism is awkward, but when you’re giving potentially negative feedback, it’s easier when you’re also serving it up with two compliments. Additionally, it enables the meeting or an interaction to end on a positive note.

    5     Many people are knowledgeable about this technique, which might make it sound insincere or predictable if not done correctly. Also, when feedback becomes a routine, employees can start to perceive positive feedback as simply a form of sugarcoating the negatives, thus reducing its value. Hence, positive feedback should not simply be seen as something to cushion the negative, but should be delivered so as to reinforce and encourage good performance.

Centering myself on the ice of the skating rink (溜冰场), I prepared for my skating performance. A confident smile spread across my face. This was the day I’d perform my best skating in a year, attempting a challenging jump known as the axel (前外一周半跳). My friend Caleb yelled from the stands, “You can do it, Harper!” My other friends crossed their fingers. My dad also shouted, “You look beautiful!”

As the music started, I was fully prepared. With a graceful circle, spins, and a broad smile, I began my performance. Everything progressed smoothly until I reached the crucial axel jump. As I prepared to jump, suddenly a mix of excitement and nerves filled me. To be frank, I could do it when I practiced off-ice, but I’d only landed it on-ice several times in my entire life. My coach had strategically placed it at the start of my routine to ensure my legs were at their peak for this demanding move.

I took the leap, but performed a distinct jump. It was a mere half-circle, falling short of the axel’s one and a half. I heard my friends sigh and saw my coach raise an eyebrow.

Determined, I attempted the axel again, but failed. I repeatedly tried and failed, spending so much time on the ice. When my routine ended, my dress was wet and I was far behind the beat. The silence was deafening, marking the most embarrassing moments of my skating career. As I skated away, I could sense the weight of everyone’s stare upon me.

As I made my way to my coach and dad, I heard the crowd cheering for Marlo, a charming eight-year-old, who was gracefully skating past me, leaving me with an intense sense that my skating career had come to an end.

My coach handed me my skate guards, asking if I was improvising (即兴创作) my routine. I didn’t know how to reply. My friends were embarrassed for me, avoiding my eyes. They seemed to discuss me except Caleb, my close friend. He brought me hot chocolate and apologized before skating his own routine.

1. 续写词数应为150个左右；

2. 请按如下格式在答题卡的相应位置作答。

I felt an urge to go home, but my dad insisted we wait for the results.

With doubt I returned onto the skating rink the next morning.

Special#2，Please

My flight arrived in San Diego around midnight, and by the time I drove home and got into bed it was nearly 2:00 a. m. I was tired and jet-lagged when I dragged myself out of the bed. Nevertheless,I had to be up bright and early that morning: I was the opening keynoter(主旨发言人) at a national conference.

In short, I needed to recover quickly. A hearty breakfast in the early morning sun was what I needed. I headed for Carlos & Annie’s, a popular restaurant located in the heart of the seaside town.

“I’d like steak and eggs, please,” I said to the waitress after I had finally found a table in the restaurant. “Oh, I'm sorry,” she apologized. “We're out of Special#2. We've served the last of our steaks. How about Special#14?” “Oh, no steak and eggs?” I couldn't seem to accept it.

I'm not sure if it was my heartfelt sigh that caught Carlos, the owner's attention. His warm, caring brown eyes seemed determined to pinpoint the best solution. He then said, “You know, I think I did see one final steak back

Pressing my luck,I quickly declared, “Wow,that would be great. But you know, I’m not sure if I want a breakfast stenk at all. What I really want is a steak—one that’s two inches thick, tender and juicy, served medium rare.” “Not to worry,” Carlos assured meand left. The young waitress gave me a wink(眨眼) and said with a knowing smile, “Carlosis being Carlos again!” I did not give her words much thought.

Then, I noticed Carlos as he left the restaurant through the side door and walked into a neighborhood grocery store across the street. Carlos exchanged morning greetings with everyone he knew and even helped the owner of the bookstore next door by holding the items that filled her arms. Then he reentered the restaurant with a bag in his hand.

Paragraph 1: Within minutes，an exact Special#2 was in front of me.

Paragraph 2: I was about to leave when I learned Carlos had already sold the restaurant.

Anyone going to an amusement park might have seen the likes of me. I held purses, cellphones and sunglasses while my loved ones threw themselves on roller coasters. I admired their bravery, but refused to challenge my own limitations. Looking at them, I began to remember what I did on that pleasant spring morning twelve years ago.

To celebrate my husband’s sixty-fifth birthday, we’d driven an hour south to Skydive Miami in Homestead, Florida. Joe had finished hundreds of jumps when he once served in the army and he wanted a closer look at the newer wing style of a plane.

We headed for the skydiving (跳伞) office. My mind was racing. Joe had struggled to describe the feeling of flying but I’d never fully understand it. I told myself that I didn’t want to hear about it and that I wanted to see and feel it by myself. When he came closer to the sign-up window for an application, I squeezed his arm.

“Why not make it two?”

“You’re kidding,” he laughed. “You’d do that.”

“It’s an once-in-a-lifetime offer. I want to share this with you.”

Smiling in disbelief, he held up two fingers. We filled out paperwork. Joe paid extra for a video of my first jump. After putting on jumpsuits, we filed into the training room. Using a mock-up (模型) of a plane door, we learned to roll out, maintain a stable free-fall position, and lift our feet at landing. In the tiny, windowless classroom, everything seemed easy. I repeated the steps with my instructor, Pete. Joe smiled with pride at his remarkably confident wife.

When our flight was called, we boarded the small plane where we sat cross-legged in pairs on the floor, with instructors directly behind their students. Pete fixed his harness (背带) to mine as the plane roared down the runway. Through the clear, roll-up door, I watched the treetops fall away. My stomach lurched (突然跳动) as two realities hit me: This was actually happening, and I’d made a terrible mistake. My mouth was dry as the Sahara. I thought I couldn’t do this. I saw Joe chatting with his instructor.

The Charm (魅力) of Schoolyard

In the charm of school life, where classrooms are seats of knowledge and the schoolyard becomes source of memory, there are a fund of stories mixed with humor, warmth, and teacher-student relationships.   

Mr. Smith was a country teacher, but not an ordinary one; he was a storyteller, a mentor (人生导师) , and a friend to all his students. His classroom was a world of its own, full of colorful characters and brilliant ideas. One day, during the noon break, a student named Alice noticed a wandering kitten padding (潜行) through the familiar grounds where many schoolyard tales were born. Alice took her to Mr. Smith, who had magical Tricks for handling even the smallest things. With Mr. Smitt’s permission, Alice and her classmates built a shelter for the kitten in a corner of the campus.

The days turned into weeks, and the kitten grew under the tender care of Mr. Smith and his students. Once in a while, she became a temporary resident of the classroom, much to the delight of the whole class. They named her “Schoolyard”, a name that generalized the spirit of their school days.

As the year progressed, Schoolyard became not just a kitten, but a tie connecting each of them and a thread of continuity in their lives. She played on desks, slept in chairs, and hid in folders, thus becoming an unofficial mascot (吉祥物) of the classroom. The students found comfort in her presence, and Mr. Smith, joy in watching them grow through her company.

As graduation neared, Mr. Smith gathered his students for one last lesson. He told them that they would soon be exploring new horizons. He reminded them that life was full of unforeseeable twists and tums along with unexpected potentials, just like the appearance of a kitten in their schoolyard. At the moment, the students were greatly touched and deep down there arose a strong love for those memorable warmth and hearty laughter of their school days.

Thereafter, Mr. Smith and the students agreed to meet here once again in ten years.

A decade later, Mr. Smith greeted his former students at the school gate.

“Isn’t that our Schoolyard?” cried Alice, gazing at the classroom door.