A group of old classmates, who have succeeded in their work, got together to visit their teacher. Their conversation soon turned to complaining(抱怨) about the stress(压力 ) in their work and life. The teacher went to the kitchen and returned with a large pot of coffee and many cups. Some of the cups are expensive and lovely, but some are cheap and not beautiful.  The teacher told them to help themselves to the coffee.

     When all the students had a cup of coffee in hand, the teacher said, "Have you noticed all the nice looking expensive cups were taken, leaving behind the cheap ones? It's OK for you lo want only the best for yourselves, but that is why you have the stress in your work and life even if you're very successful now. "

    "All of you really wanted the coffee, not the cups, but you cheese the beast cups and were eyeing each other's cups.

    "Now think about this: life is the coffee, and money and position in society are the cups. They are just tools to hold life. They do not change the quality (质量) of life. Sometimes, we just care about the cups, and we fail to enjoy the coffee. So, don't let the cups drive you; enjoy the coffee instead. "

—No, I have             been there.

    When I was in the third grade, I was picked to be the princess in the school play.

    For weeks my mother helped me 1 my sentences. But once during a performance, every word 2 from my head. My teacher asked me to change roles and be the narrator(解说员). Though I didn't tell my mother what had 3 that day, she felt my 4 and asked if I wanted to take a walk in the yard．

    It was a lovely spring day. We could see dandelions(蒲公英)coming out through the grass, just like a painter had touched our woods and fields with bits of gold. I watched my mother carelessly bend down(弯腰) 5 some flowers. "I think I am going to dig up all the wild grass," she said. "But I like dandelions; all flowers are beautiful -even dandelions!" I said. My mother looked at me seriously. "Yes, every flower shines in 6 own way. And that is true of people, too," she said. She had guessed my pain. I started to cry and told her the 7. "You will be a beautiful narrator," she said, 8 me of how much I loved to read stories aloud to her.

    Over the next few weeks, I learned to take 9 in the role. The big day finally came. A few minute, before the play, my teacher came over to me. "Your mother asked me to give this to you," she said, handing me a 10. After the play, I took the flower home, laughing that I was perhaps the only person who would keep such wild grass.