It took place in a teacher’s family. One day, Ben was playing basketball in the living room after school, when he accidentally threw the ball at a vase sitting on the shelf. The vase dropped to the floor and a large piece broke off. What made Ben more upset was that the vase was not a common decoration but an antique (古董), which was handed down through generations from the 18th century. It was also his mother’s favourite possession. To cover his terrible action, the terrified boy glued the pieces together hurriedly and put the vase back to its place.

As the mother herself dusted the vase every day, she naturally noticed the cracks (裂纹) that evening. To her surprise, the repair work was actually very good. At dinner time, she asked her boy if he broke the vase. Fearing punishment, the suddenly inspired boy said that a neighbour’s cat jumped in from the window and he couldn’t drive it away no matter how hard he tried. It raced around the living room and finally knocked the vase off its shelf. His mother was quite clear that her son was lying, for all the windows were closed before she left for work each morning and opened after she returned. However, in the face of her son’s nervous eyes and the suspicious looks of the other family members, Ben’s mother remained calm. She realized she shouldn’t just simply blame and punish her son for lying. She came up with another idea.

Before going to bed, the boy found a note from his mother in his room, asking him to go to the study at once. The boy thought he would now be punished but, as he had already lied, he was determined to deny everything to the end, no matter how angry his mum became.

In the study, calmly bathed in the light, his mothers face showed no sign of anger. On seeing her son push open the door and cautiously enter, she took a chocolate box out of a drawer and gave him one.

The mother said, “This chocolate is a reward for your imagination: a window-opening cat!”

Now with some chocolates in hand, the boy’s bad attitude disappeared.

2 . I was excited when my 12th-grade results were declared. I had earned a _________ at a top college. It was the _________ piece of good news my family had received in a long while. My father was in hospital and my mother was there _________ him. I rushed over to give them the good news. Maybe my thrilled mood was _________ —a middle-aged lady in the elevator smiled like me.

On admission day, when I reached the college, I found my bag containing the _________ lost. My heart _________ , as there was little hope of ever getting the money back, with no _________ in it.

I rode back to the _________ to tell my parents, but once there, I couldn’t gather the courage. I stood in the hospital corridor, feeling _________ , when I felt someone touch my shoulder. It was the woman in the elevator.

“What is the problem?” she asked. The __________ in her voice broke the dam. __________ streaming, I told her everything. She listened and then said. “Don’t worry.” She handed me some money. “Take this,” she said. I hesitated, but she __________ , and placed the money in my hands. I stood there rooted to the spot, overwhelmed.

“Please give me your address. I will return it later.” I said, finally finding my __________ .

“No need. Take care of your father and stay __________ .” she said.

Since then, I returned to that wing many times, in __________ of meeting her again, but in vain.

7 . Michael Priscilla is a young architect with a blog that I follow. In a post, he described how in 2005, he rode coast-to-coast, 4,547 miles to Portland, Oregon, and he ended up staying there. He thought his experience changed his life.

The story resonated with me, because when I was 17, the summer before I went into architecture school, I did much the same thing, and it changed my life too. I did not go quite as far, traveling 2,700 miles to Vancouver.

But it was still a very long way and in 1970, nobody was riding bikes. Our diet only consisted of a loaf of white bread and a jar of peanut butter each meal, or dinner with other people in the campgrounds who were just amazed that we were doing this. Equipment was primitive and we had no sunscreen.

But, as it was for Michael, it was a life-changing experience. I have never forgotten that everything weighs something and every ounce matters; in architecture I always tended toward light and portable and simple. I learned that people of all ages and origins are generally really, really nice and helpful and friendly. When I got back to architecture school, I saw the world differently, understood space and time differently, and I don’t think that ever left me.

Going with the flow, having a good attitude and just being open to accept whatever happens, is the formula (公式)to having an amazing experience. Worrying and planning too much stops any experience from ever taking place. This is a hard lesson to learn.

Nowadays, lots of people of all ages are doing it. In America and Europe, bicycle tourism has become a big deal, with one website noting that bicycle vacations are the new golf. Perhaps crossing the entire country is a bit much, but reading Michael’s post makes me want to get back on my bike and take a good long ride.

8 . Ammie Reddick from East Kilbride, Lanarkshire, was only 18 months old when she had the accident that had scared her for life. The curious child reached up to grab the wire of a hot kettle in the family kitchen and poured boiling water over her tiny infant frame.

Her mother Ruby turned round and, seeing Ammie horribly burnt, called an ambulance which rushed her daughter to a nearby hospital. Twenty percent of Ammie’s body had been burned and all of her burns were third-degree. There, using tissue taken from unburned areas of Ammie’s body, doctors performed complex skin transplants to close her wounds and control her injuries, an operation that took about six hours. Over the next 16 years, Ammie underwent 12 more operations to repair her body.

When she started school at Maxwelton Primary at age 4, other pupils made cruel comments or simply wouldn’t play with her. “I was the only burned child in the street, the class and the school,” she recalled, “some children refused to become friends because of that.”

Today, aged 17, Ammie can only ever remember being a burned person with scars; pain is a permanent part of her body. She still has to have two further skin transplants. Yet she is a confident, outgoing teenager who offers inspiration and hope to other young burns victims.

She is a member of the Scottish Burned Children’s Club, a charity set up last year. This month, Ammie will be joining the younger children at the Graffham Water Center in Cambridge shire for the charity’s first summer camp. “I will show them how to get rid of unkind stares from others,” she says. Ammie loves wearing fashionable sleeveless tops, and she plans to show the youngsters at the summer camp that they can too. “I do not go to great lengths to hide my burns scars,” she says, “I gave up wondering how other people would react years ago.”

“Mary, I hate to call Rob in the mornings. He’s growing so fast and he needs his sleep. If you could see how sound he sleeps when I go to wake him up! I wish I could manage alone. ”

“Well, you can’t, Adam.” His mother’s voice was quick and light. “Besides, he isn’t a child any more. It’s time he took his turn. ”

“Yes, ” his father said slowly, “But I sure do hate to wake him. ”

A few days before Christmas that year when he was fifteen, Rob heard these words and something in him spoke: his father loved him! He had never thought of that before, for neither his father nor his mother talked about loving their children -- they had no time for such things. There was always so much to do on the farm.

They were poor, and most of the excitement for Christmas was in the turkey and the pies his mother made. His sisters sewed presents and his mother and father always bought him something he needed, not only a warm jacket, maybe, but something more, such as a book. And he saved and bought them each something, too.

He had gone to the ten-cent store and bought a tie as usual. It had seemed nice enough until he lay thinking the night before Christmas. He wished that he had a better present for his father.

A thought struck him like a silver lightning. Why should he not give his father a special gift in the barn(牛棚)? He could get up early, earlier than four o’clock and he could move quietly and slowly into the barn and get all the milking done. He’d do it alone, milk and clean up, and then when his father went in to start the milking, he’d see it all done. He laughed to himself as he gazed at the stars, it was what he would do, and he mustn’t sleep too sound.

At a quarter to three, he got up and put on his clothes.

Back in his room, he had only a minute to pull off his clothes in the darkness and jumped into bed, for he heard his father up.

In America hitching a ride (搭便车) is very common. Many people there love hitching a ride during    1    (they) trips. I also once hitched a ride when I was traveling in America.

I     2    (drive)on the road when my car stopped. I was going to a town     3    was farther than I had expected. My tank (油箱) became empty when I got there. Standing there, I didn’t know what to do. I just knew that I needed help. But I could see nobody around. Who could I turn    4    ? Then I thought of scenes that I had seen in Hollywood    5    (movie). I remembered that people in America loved hitching a ride. I told myself that I could do that, too.

So when a car was coming, I tried to hitch a ride. To my joy, the car really stopped in front of me. The driver was    6    old man. After    7    (know) my problem, he said he could help me out. He took me to the     8    (near) gas station. Then he left as he had something important to do.

I couldn’t walk all the way back to my car. Therefore, I tried to hitch a ride again and I    9    (help) out once again. I was    10    (great) moved.