There was my mother, standing in a fuzzy (毛绒绒的) pink bunny(兔子）costume. This can't be, 1 I thought to myself. Being ten was 2 enough.

    Our class was taking a trip to a convalescent home（疗养院) that day.I had 3 to stay at home pretending I'd caught some rare disease. My mother who's a(n) 4, sent me to school anyway.

    When we got there, I 5 wished for that 6. I'd fall to the ground and be 7the humiliation (耻笑) of anyone ever knowing that I 8every day after school there, dressed as a bunny.

    “Hi, Shelly!” The residents waved at me, “ Do you know them?” someone asked. “No! They 9 me for someone else. I'm Machille,” I responded. I didn't look up 10 I might make eye contact with them. Then, Mrs. Deist, our teacher, handed us tulips (郁金香) to give to the residents. I quickly went to the back of the 11. My mother just went along her way--- hopping（单足跳跃）. Last year, we hopped together. 12, “I'm too old for that now”, I thought.

    I hid behind my class. “ Shelly, how about a game of Fish?” Lou asked. My class and teacher 13 and stared. “ Machille, do you know these people?” Mrs.Deist asked me.

“Um….yes！”  

    “Well you should 14 the way,” she said, smiling. So I stepped forward, handed a tulip to Rose, waved to Frank and gave Mr. Blusso a high-five.

    “My mother is in a convalescent home. I wish she could have someone like you to 15 her.” Mrs Deist said. My mother hopped over then. “This is my mom. Every day she looks after these special people who need nurses' care.” I stood straight as I 16 the information. My mother then explained a program where kids can 17 after school. The residents cheered at the18, and my class seemed excited, too.

    I realized how 19 it made me to make other people smile and feel good. I should never be 20 of that.

阅读理解

    My mom takes pride in the fact that I was talking in three and four word sentences before I was ten months old. Some say it's a gift while others simply think I talk too much.

    As my thirties came to a close, I found myself reflecting on my life. I'm very happy and have no significant regrets. However, when I looked back on those times of difficulty, I saw a clear common denominator(特征); I didn't seem to know when to stop talking. Whether it was hurting someone's feelings, or having carelessly told a secret, the incident could have been avoided had I closed my mouth sooner. So I decided to practice the power of quiet.

    To take this step, I needed to understand how people could sit comfortably in a group and not talk. Why does my husband feel completely content to say nothing in a conversation? He's highly intelligent and has wonderful opinions but he'll sit quietly and just listen. Even when he's asked a pointed question, he'll answer with few words while still communicating effectively. What a talent!

    Can you imagine being happy just listening? In surveying those I know who talk less than I do, I got two answers—they either didn't feel confident enough to speak up, or they just didn't feel the need to participate in the conversation. Of course there were other reasons for not talking, but these were the two most popular answers.

    The first one didn't work for me. I'm just fine letting people know what I think about them, and hopefully it will make the conversation much more interesting. The second one didn't work either. I do feel the need to participate. I feel it physically like an electrical pulse through my body; sometimes it's so strong that it causes me to behave badly in the form of interrupting or speaking in an unusually loud voice. I had to look further.

    An interesting thing happened on this journey to the power of quiet. During my weekly yoga class, it came to me like an answer so clear that the words rang in my head like soft, heavenly bells.

    I talked too much so people would know I cared about them. It was my way of taking care of those I love. I decided before my fortieth birthday, that from that day forward, those around me would know I loved them, and cared what they thought and felt, but I was going to practice the power of quiet.

    As my forty-second birthday approaches, I can say that deciding to talk less has been more about focusing on quality rather than quantity. I've found that listening more shows those who I care about that I really do care how they feel. Now when I break in, it means more to them. Oh, sure, I still have my short periods of talking too much, but for the most part this has been one resolution that I can call a success.