In the year I was about twelve years old, my mother told us that we would not be1Christmas gifts for short of money. I felt sad and thought, "What would I say when the other kids asked what I'd2?" Just when I started to accept that there would not be a Christmas gift that year, then three women3at our house with gifts for all of us. For me they brought a doll. I would no longer have to feel4when I returned to school.
Years later, when I stood in the kitchen of my new house, thinking how I wanted to make my5Christmas there special and memorable, I6remembered the women's visit. I decided that I wanted to create that same feeling of7for as many children as I could possibly8.
So I9a plan and gathered forty people from my company to help. We gathered about 125 orphans (孤儿) at the Christmas party. For every child, we wrapped colorful packages filled with toys, clothes, and school supplies, each with a child's name. We wanted all of them to know they were10. Before I called out their names and handed them their gifts, I11them that they couldn't open their presents until every child had come forward. Finally, the12they had been waiting for came as I called out,"One, two, three. Open your presents!" As the children opened their packages, their faces beamed and their bright smiles13up the room. The14in the room was obvious, and it wasn't just about toys. It was a feeling—the feeling I knew from the Christmas so long ago when the women came to visit. I wasn't forgotten. Somebody thought of me. I 15.
