完形填空
My 4-year-old son now enjoys posting letters. He has formed the 1 of drawing pictures, writing his name on them, and then 2 the artwork in an envelope. He then insists on 3 his handwork to the neighbors, and a mail box he 4 belongs to the elderly couple who live next door. To be 5, I didn't think much of it, but I had 6 to warn my neighbors of the drawings 7 appearing in their letterboxes—I just didn't have the 8 to do so, because I was a little busy recently.
On Tuesday of last week, I was walking down to school to collect my son when I 9 Mary, my elderly neighbor, 10 at her mail box. She said, “Jodie, is it your little son that has been posting items in my letterbox to me?” I was at once 11, “Oh yes, Mary, it is. I'm sorry. I meant to tell you…” She cut me off, “Jodie, I just love his mail. I've 12 every item he has sent. You don't know how much 13 the letters has made my day. I just love them.” While I was walking down to school after our 14, many thoughts came to me. Mary doesn't have a lot to fill her days, 15 she was a mother to a number of children herself who receives fairly regular visitors. The small 16 of getting some mail—pictures drawn by the hand of a young child—has brought 17 to her days, just as my visit to my grandparents does.
I have decided that my son should 18 this practice. He should also start sending some items to his grandparents in Perth as well. It will most 19 make their day.
It's doing the little, simple things that can often make a big 20 in someone's life.
