I've loved my mother's desk since I was just tall enough to see above the top of it as Mother sat doing letters. Standing by her chair, looking at the ink bottle, pens, and white paper, I decided that the act of writing must be the most wonderful thing in the world.

    Years later, during her final illness, Mother kept different things for my sister and brother. “But the desk,” she said again, “is for Elizabeth.”

    I never saw her angry, never saw her cry, I knew she loved me; she showed it in action. But as a young girl, I wanted heart-to-heart talks between mother and daughter. It never happened. And a gulf opened between us. I was “too emotional”. But she lived “on the surface”. As years passed and I had my own family, I loved my mother and thanked her for our happy family. I wrote to her in careful words and asked her to let me know in any way if she chose that she did forgive me. I posted the letter and waited for her answer. None came. My hope turned to disappointment, then little interest and, finally, peace—it seemed that nothing happened. I couldn't be sure the letter had even got to Mother. I only knew that I had written it, and I could stop trying to make her into someone she was not.

    Now the present of her desk told me, as she'd never been able to, that she was pleased that writing was my chosen work. I cleaned the desk carefully and found some papers inside—a photo of my father and a one-page letter folded and refolded many times. She had given me an answer in a way she chose. Mother, you always chose the act that speaks louder than words.

    I still remember an old lady, a customer on the paper route in my hometown when I was 12 years old. She taught me a lesson in1that I shall never forget.

On a(n)2afternoon, a friend and I were throwing stones onto the 3of the old lady's house. The stone that I found was too smooth,4it slipped from my hand as I let it go and5straight not for the covering on top of the house but for a small window on the house's back porch. At the sound of broken glass, we knew we were6.We turned and7.

    I was too 8 about getting caught that first night to be concerned about the old lady with the broken window in the freezing weather. However, a few days later, when I was sure that I hadn't been9, I started to feel guilty about her10.She still greeted me with a smile each day11I gave her the paper , but I was no longer able to act comfortably in her 12.

    I13my mind that I would save my paper delivering money , and in three weeks I had the seven dollars that I calculated would pay for her window . I put the money in an envelope with a note14that I was sorry for breaking her window and15that the seven dollars would cover the cost of repairing it.

    I waited until it was dark , moved16to the old lady ' s house and put the letter I didn ' t sign through the letter slot in her door . I felt 17 and could have the freedom of , once again , looking straight into the old lady's kind eyes .

    The next day, I handed the old lady her paper and was able to 18 the warm smile that I was receiving from her. She thanked me for the paper and gave me a bag of cookies she had made herself. I thanked her and proceeded(开始) to eat the cookies as I continued my19.

After several cookies . I felt an envelope and pulled it out of the bag. When I opened the envelope , I was 20. Inside were the seven dollars and a short note that said , " I'm proud of you.”

从方框中选择恰当的词并用其适当形式填空。

Host: Welcome to 9 o'clock Weekend Talk. We're talking to Bill, a____ boy. He is from US. Hello, Bill. Welcome to the show.

Bill: Thank you.

Host: You came to China five years ago. Your Chinese must be very good.

Bill: I practice ____ it every day. I ____ reading Chinese stories and listening to Chinese songs.

Host: Do you like to play ____?

Bill: Yes, I do. And basketball is my favorite.

Host: Really? What do you ____ baseball?  

Bill: I love it, too. ____ American boys love to play it.

Host: Do you like to watch TV?

Bill: Yes, I do.

Host: What do you think of soap shows?

Bill: I ____ them. They are really boring.

Host: ____ Chinese Cooking?

Bill: I don't mind it. In fact, my mom loves it.

Host: How do you ____ China?

Bill: It's great.

Host: OK! Thank you for ____ us, Bill!

Bill: You're welcome.