Last year around Halloween, I was invited to participate in a carnival for Tuesday’s Child, an organization that helps children with cancer. I was asked to attend because I’m on a television show; I went because I care. I don’t think that most of the kids recognized me as a celebrity. They just thought of me as a big kid who came to play with them for the day. I think I liked it better that way.

At the carnival they had all kinds of stands. I was drawn to one in particular because of all the children that had gathered there. At this stand, anyone who wanted to could paint a square. Later that square was going to be sewn together with the others, to make a quilt. The quilt would be presented to a man who had dedicated much of his life to this organization and would soon be retiring.

They gave everyone fabric paints in bright beautiful colors and asked the kids to paint something that would make the quilt beautiful. As I looked around at all the squares, I saw pink hearts and bright blue clouds, beautiful orange sunrises and green and purple flowers. The pictures were all bright, positive and uplifting. All except for one.

The boy sitting next to me was painting a heart, but it was dark, empty and lifeless. It lacked the bright brilliant colors that his fellow artists had used.

At first I thought maybe he took the only paint that was left and it just happened to be dark. But when I asked him about it, he said his heart was that color because not only was he very sick, but his mom was very sick. He said, “There is nothing anyone can do that will help.”

2 . When I was growing up in Auckland, my relationship with clothing was all about utility (实用). Clothes needed to be __________ and keep me at the right temperature. I had a very clear picture about myself: Someone who didn’t __________ clothes. Naturally, I came to __________ the act of shopping, an activity where __________ were largely unavoidable.

But it all began to __________. My first day out in London was unexpectedly cold. Jetlagged (时差) and overwhelmed (不知所措的), I walked into a department store. That’s when it __________ me; I think: It was the __________ procedure that was important, the weighing up of __________, the imaginative projection of the person you might be in this scarf, versus that one. This was the important bit, far more than the __________ act of choice. And it was not __________ at all.

Over the remaining two years in London I began thinking about what I liked, what my __________ was—whether a style, a fabric, a color. I began to see that shopping didn’t __________ need to involve a purchase. The world opened up. I stopped avoiding my own reflection. I still wear items of clothing that I __________ during my stay in London, 20 years ago now. More than this, I __________ people differently. I try to look with care and __________ at how they present themselves to the world, and the stories and messages these choices send.

4 . Back in the day when I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with my life, I was studying to become a firefighter. As a firefighter, you’re _________ thinking of other people and trying to help children. That’s the mindset.

One dark night I _________ at a burger place. I got my burger and started to head for my car when I was _________ by a homeless man. He was very dirty and obviously very hungry. He asked me for some _________ to buy a little food. As I was pulling out some, I had an idea.

I _________ to see if he wanted to eat a real dinner, so I asked him to follow me back into the burger joint to order. He was _________ of the way he looked and said he did not want to. But I _________. When he eventually followed me in, the people behind the _________ refused to let him in, but I told them that I was buying him dinner and he had a _________ to be there. After some negotiating, they finally __________. It seemed like he was __________ a bit to be finally sitting at a table. Well, I asked him to order whatever he wanted. He only ordered a burger, so I had to __________ him to order whatever and however much he wanted. He __________ ordering enough to fill his stomach at least 3 times over!

Now I often think about this story, because to me it’s not just about helping someone out by __________ them, but giving him the respect and __________ of being a human being and allowing him to feel good about himself that was truly rewarding.

Ten miles away stood a house with shiny red walls, a green garden and an apple tree. A young girl’s face would be seen reflecting from one of the large glassy windows. Her name is Maggie. Her eyes were sparkling and on her face there was a smile which could light a million candles. She seemed to be longing for a chance to play like a young child, but she had no strength in her legs because she and her family met with an accident, in which she lost both her legs.

But her spirit was strong. She would be inspired by seeing birds fly. The flying eagle would make her want to fly. She was lonely. She longed for a true friend who would talk to her and teach her to fly or at least tell her stories about soaring into the blue sky.

One evening, Maggie slowly rolled her wheelchair to the giant window and looked out to the many houses that lay across the road. Suddenly she heard someone singing and then could see an old man in a pilot suit singing in glory. The beautiful sound and the melody made the little girl happy. Suddenly he stopped and gazed up toward her. “What are you staring at?” he said angrily. “You think I’m a circus clown? (马戏团小丑)” “No, Sir. I was just listening to you. You sing very well,” she said. “I don’t need your praises. I don’t need anyone!” he shouted. He started to walk to his house and shut the door. Tears rolled down from her apple-red cheeks as the man shouted at her. She was lonely.

Next morning, Maggie pushed her wheelchair across the garden to the stone road as little children played hide-and-seek around her. Suddenly out of nowhere a loading truck came rumbling across toward her. Terrified, she tried to move away from its path but the wheels of her chair were stuck. “Oh my,” she thought as the truck came in her direction fast, with the driver unaware of the obstruction in front of him. She screamed loudly but in a split second she was pulled out of her wheelchair by someone and fell on the ground. She closed her eyes and shivered as the truck passed her whistling. As she opened her eyes, she could see a man standing beside her.

She gazed up to him and immediately recognized him as the man she saw singing last night.

Maggie got to know his name was Ken and that he was a retired pilot.

One bright Saturday morning, Mali and her mom walked around the neighbourhood. That is, her mom walked, but Mali ran, skipped, jumped over puddles and visited the neighbours’ dogs. Mali paused to look at the budding (发芽) trees on her block. “I can’t wait until summer,” she said, “especially for Mrs. Fair’s great tomatoes at her market stand.” She pointed.

Mali’s mom stood looking at the empty lot where the market was set up every summer weekend. She looked at Mali, “Honey, Mrs. Fair told me last week that she had to close her stand. She’s really getting too old to run it anymore.”

Mali turned, stared, and put her hands on her waist. “But Mrs. Fair’s stand can’t close!” she said. “It’s the only place in the neighbourhood we can buy fresh, delicious tomatoes.” Then she added, to show she wasn’t being selfish, “Everyone needs fruits and vegetables for a healthy diet.”

After they got home, Mali headed out to her backyard swing to think. “If only I could plant a garden,” she thought. “but our yard is way too small.” Just then, she noticed her neighbour, Mr. Taylor, looking at his daffodils. Mali knew he was thinking about how he had planted those flowers with his wife. This was the first spring since his wife had died, and Mali saw the sadness on his face. Then she had an idea.

Mali cleared her throat, and Mr. Taylor looked up. Mali decided to walk over to the fence. “Hi, Mr. Taylor,” she said. He waved, and turned away. “Wait!” Mali cried. Taking a risk while she still felt brave, she rushed to gather her thoughts. “Mr. Taylor, Mrs. Fair isn’t doing her tomato stand anymore because she’s getting old. So I’d like to grow tomatoes. I don’t want to get in the way of your flowers, but I really want tomatoes.”

Suddenly, Mr. Taylor smiled. “Mali, I’m not sure what you’re talking about, but you’ve made me smile. Reasons to smile have been scarce lately. What do you want to do?” Mali repeated, “I wanted to plant tomatoes, but I have no big land.” She sounded a little awkward.

Just then, an idea came to Mr. Taylor.

When the fruit ripened, there were more juicy, red tomatoes than even Mali could have imagined.

9 . I was ten when my mother was diagnosed with cancer. Prior to that, she had been a(n) _______ woman, active to an extent most people found astonishing. As a child, I was amazed by her accomplishments. But at thirty-one, her life _______. And so did mine.

She could do anything, I _______. She won tennis tournaments. She took photographs and held her own exhibition. She _______ as a newspaper columnist, and she cooked Spanish dishes for the family.

Now, she faced her illness with the same _______. Words like “disabled” and “physical therapy” became part of a(n) _______ new world we entered together. _______, I began to help take care of her. And it became routine to _______ her into the kitchen, where she instructed me in the _______ of peeling carrots and potatoes and how to prepare a decent breakfast.

Every accomplishment was a ________ for us both: the electric typewriter, the car with power steering and brakes, her return to ________, where she earned a master’s degree in special education. She eventually founded an activist support group called The Handicappers. One day, without ________ much beforehand, she took me to a Handicappers meeting. I had never seen so many people with so many ________. I returned home, thinking how ________ we really were.

Because my mother accepted her condition with such optimism, I rarely felt sad or resentful about it. Instead, I viewed her drive to look forward to things I ________ as a great mystery and powerful inspiration in my life.