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A wealthy man and his son liked to collect rare works of art. They had everything in their collection, from Picasso to Raphael. They would often sit together and admire these great works of art.

When the conflict broke out, the son went to war. Unfortunately he died in battle while rescuing another soldier. The father was in deep sorrow for his only son.

About a month later, just before Christmas, there was a knock at the door. A young man stood at the door with a large package in his hands. He said, "Sir, you don't know me. I am the soldier to whom your son gave his life. He saved many lives that day, and he was carrying me to safety when a bullet(子弹) struck him in the heart and killed him instantly. He often talked about you, and your love of art." The young man held out this package. "I know this isn't much. I'm not a great artist, but I think your son would have wanted you to have this."

The father opened the package. It was a picture of his son, painted by the young man. He stared in surprise at the way the soldier showed the personality of his son in the painting. The father was so drawn to the eyes that his own eyes were filled with tears. He thanked the young man and offered to pay for the painting. "Oh, no, sir, I could never repay what your son did for me. It's a gift."

The father hung the picture on the wall of the hall. Every time visitors came to his home he took them to see the picture of his son before he showed them any of the other great works he had collected.

A few months later the man died. There was to be a great auction(拍卖) of his art collection. Many influential people gathered, excited over seeing the great paintings and having the opportunity to purchase one for their collection.

注意：(1)续写词数应为150左右;(2)请按如下格式作答。

When I entered Berkeley, I hoped to earn a scholarship. Having been a straight A student, I believed I could take tough subjects and really learn something. One such course was World Literature given by Professor Jayne. I was extremely interested in the ideas he 1 in class. 

When I took the first exam, I was 2 to find a 77, C-plus, on my test paper, for English was my best subject. I went to Professor Jayne, who listened to my arguments but remained 3 . 

I decided to try harder, although I didn't know what that4

because school had always been easy for me. I read the books more carefully, but got another 77. Again, I5 with Professor Jayne. Again, he listened patiently but wouldn't change his mind.

One more test before the final exam. One more6 to improve my grade. So I redoubled my efforts and, for the first time, learned the meaning of the word "thorough". But my7 did no good and everything went as before.

The last hurdle(障碍) was the final. No matter what8 I got, it wouldn't cancel three C-pluses. I might as well kiss the9 goodbye.

I stopped working hard. I felt I knew the course material as well as I ever would. The night before the final, I even10 myself to a movie. The next day I decided for once I'd have11 with a test.

A week later, I was surprised to find I got an A. I hurried into Professor Jayne's office. He12 to be expecting me. "If I gave you the A's you13 , you wouldn't continue to work as hard."

I stared at him 14 that his analysis and strategy were correct. I had worked my head off, as I had never done before. 

I was speechless when my course grade arrived: A-plus. It was the

15 A-plus given. The next year I received my scholarship. I've always remembered Professor Jayne's lesson: You alone must set your own standard of excellence.

When I was young I was fascinated with stories of magic. I was absorbed in books where wizards and fighters battled the powers of darkness in strange worlds. I was delighted when they won, bringing peace and happiness to their lands. I wanted to be able to magically make my pain disappear, to make my problems go away, and to have power over this world that so often has power over us. 

As I got older, however, I realised that there was no such thing as magic. I had daily pain from a back injury that never healed(治愈) right. I still sometimes dreamed of magic but in time even that faded away.

This magic grew stronger in my heart,soul, and mind day by day. It was called LOVE. This magic connected me to my own highest self and to all of the other souls in this world. It didn't abolish my poverty but it made every day of my life feel richer.

There is such a thing as magic in this world. There is such a thing as magic in each one of us. This magic is called LOVE. Also, I hope you use it to help others, to heal this world, and to build a bridge to souls of everybody. 

A. I struggled through a long period of poverty.

B. I was not eager to have any power that controlled the world.

C. Then one day I started to discover a different kind of magic.

D. May you choose it, share it, and live in it every single day of your life.

E. It didn't rid me of my pain but it helped me deal with it so much better.

F. It helped me see them as the beautiful, loving and joyful souls they truly are.

G. Most of the readers like me secretly wished for magical powers for themselves.