1 . We love letters. Just as John Donne, a poet, _________ it, “Letters, to me and my friends mean _________ greetings; they get souls together. Thanks to letters, friends who are _________ speak.” He wrote these words nearly 400 years ago. Today, in the age of instant text message, social media, and email, they _________ ring truer than ever, because writing or receiving a letter has become such a _________ event.

A UK-wide survey undertaken by Sunday Times suggests that one in four of us has not _________ a letter for at least 10 years. That’s ten years without the bitter-sweet _________ of pacing the floor waiting for the _________; ten years without recognizing the handwriting on the envelope and eagerly _________ the letter to read its content.

We ____________ not get them any more, but we still love handwritten letters. In the same survey, one third of ____________ people interviewed say that they ____________ the content of sentimental (充满情感的) letters. Shouldn’t we make ____________ to give our friends and families what they will treasure forever? Ann Bickley went online in 2013 and offered to handwrite a letter to anyone who ____________ her. Her website received 50,000 ____________ in its first three months. Five years later, she is still the main ____________ behind one-million-lovely-letter.com and has personally written 4,000 letters offering hope and ____________ to strangers.

The thought behind a letter ____________ as much as its contents. “I never tell anyone that ____________ is going to be OK,” Ann Bickley says, “I am letting someone know that there is someone in the world who ____________ them.”

Who wouldn’t love to receive a letter like that? Let’s get writing!

2 . On the day the tornado hit, there was no indication severe weather was on its way—the sky was blue and the sun had been out. The first warning my husband, Jimmy and I got came around 9 p.m., from some scrolling text on the TV Jimmy was watching.

No sooner had we found coverage of the tornado than it was on top of us. I didn’t know how or if we would make it down the steps. It felt as if there were no floor underneath me as the wind lifted me off my feet. I gripped the banister(楼梯扶手) and tried to move forward, but this intense pressure held me in place. In those seconds of practical stillness, I could hear everything around me rattling.

We got close to the staircase landing only to hear the loud ripping（撕裂） sound of our garage door coming off. The back wall of the house followed suit and tore off into the darkness outside.

By the time I reached the closet, the tornado had been over us for about a minute. Jimmy pushed me down to the closet floor, but he couldn’t get inside himself because of the wind. I held Jimmy’s arm tightly as the tornado sucked the door open—we never did get it fully shut—and tried to bring Jimmy with it. My knees and head were full of glass, but in that moment, I felt no pain. If I had let go, Jimmy would have flown right out the back of the house and into the bay.

“Hold on! Hold on!” he yelled. But there was nothing in this closet to hold on to. All of a sudden, Jimmy lifted off his feet like people in tornadoes do in the movies. I thought he was gone. And then everything stopped. He landed on his feet. In those first quiet moments, I couldn’t believe it was over. Jimmy said he’d go outside to check. “No,” I said. “Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me.”