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After a few months of borrowing his old white Ford and my constant begging, dad finally agreed it was time for me to own my very first car. So we headed straight to the used car section. A little cute car caught my attention. My dad wanted to get it thoroughly checked out before purchasing it, but not me. I was in a hurry. "Daaaad. Let's just pick one already. I want this one..." Finally, he had to give in.

No sooner had I driven off the lot than the problems started. First, the overheating. Next, the knocking coming from the engine. But oh no! I was not to be stopped. I just wouldn't look at it. Annoying little sound coming from the engine? I could just turn up the radio. Problem solved!

Ignoring all the warnings, I was heading out the door to a Friday night party in my college town. I had been looking forward to it for weeks. But as the night arrived, an unexpected winter snowstorm came along.

My dad tried to persuade me to stay at home. But I was not listening. I was an adult, thank you very much. I was not about to miss that party. I swung by and picked up my friend Carrie and the two of us started on our thirty-minute drive in the snow.

Just as we hit a long stretch of somewhat deserted highway, something happened. My precious little car spit and sputtered (发出) its final breath... and died! Luckily, I had just enough time to move to the side of the highway, just barely over the line onto the shoulder, before it came to a complete stop.

And there we were. Two eighteen-year-old girls stranded (使滞留) on the side of the road on a snowy dark night. We called 911 for help, but unfortunately the signal was so weak that we could hardly hear each other. After several vain attempts, we began to wave down passing cars, but with no luck.

注意：

1.续写词数应为150左右；

2.请按如下格式在答题卡的相应位置作答。

We were anxious and at a loss what to do when I heard my phone ring.

Forty minutes later, my dad came out of the familiar white Ford.

1.介绍 Alice；

2.简述获奖理由。

注意：

1.写作词数应为80左右；

2.请按如下格式在答题卡的相应位置作答。

Dear all,

......

53-year-old Diarra Boubacar was welcomed by a hospital in Chengdu, Sichuan, as a specially  (invite) expert.

Boubacar was born in the African country of Mali, whose people found  difficult to get affordable healthcare. This was  Boubacar continued the family tradition of training to be a doctor. In 1984, he joined a government-sponsored program to study in China. In his freshman year, Boubacar  (earn) a grade as low as 40%. The frustrated man was not defeated by  hardship of learning the ancient Chinese language to read traditional Chinese medicine (TCM)  (classic), and he was gradually absorbed in TCM.

However, the greatest challenge he faced was to convince people that even though he was a foreigner, he could still treat them  (effective) with TCM. Fortunately, his fluency in Chinese got improved and it helped. In 1997, he became the first foreigner  (receive) a doctoral degree in acupuncture(针灸) from Chengdu University of TCM.

Besides his work, Boubacar has been helping patients in (distance) villages in Sichuan and Yunnan provinces. Due to his contributions in the community, where he has also been helping train village doctors in TCM, today Boubacar is known "China's barefoot doctor" and the "African Norman Bethune".

It all started when I learned to read, or rather, before I learned to read.

When I was two years old, my grandma decided it was time to 1 me to poetry. I didn't understand the words, but my parents said my first complete sentence was the recitation of a poem because my grandma had read it to me so many times that I could 2 it.

Throughout my childhood, I always had a bunch of 3  about who I would become when I was older, like an inventor, a doctor, or a dancer. But these ideas 4  in middle school. I spent a few years wandering 5  through life, having no clue what I was 6  about.

7 , in my first year of high school, I met Miss King, who 8 my life. She was enthusiastic and encouraging. I loved her and I wanted to make her proud of me. So I worked hard and put my 9 into every essay she assigned. I even practiced 10 in my spare time and brought what I wrote to her for feedback. One day, she said to me encouragingly, "I recommended you to the school newspaper, and you can write for it."

Her words 11 something in me. Suddenly, I wasn't 12 anymore. I had a destination. I'd become a 13 . Doing well at the school newspaper was the first step to get there.

Thanks to the first poem my grandma read to me and Miss King's 14 , now I'm writing for newspapers all round the world. It's still the bottom of the ladder, and I've got miles left to 15 , but at least I've made somewhere.