I grew up in a military family. When my parents retired from the army after eighteen years of 1, I had to study with those twelve-year-olds who shared no2 life experience with me.
Most of my new classmates had grown up together and they had no room to3 for a newcomer. I wore different clothes and spoke with a different accent. I had little4 of making friends. I5 for the first few weeks in my new school.
To deal with it all, I began6 in my diary every day. I wrote as if my life depended on it. I could not stand the loneliness7 I wrote it down in my diary.
One day, my teacher, Mrs. Bush, asked why I always sat there writing. I lied that I8 writing to playing. One week later, Mrs. Bush gave us a writing assignment (任务). I was9that I could now participate in something I knew I was good at. So I worked on the essay10 and handed it in. I thought it was the best chance for me to be11 by the class.
The next day, Mrs. Bush called me up to the12 of the classroom. I stood before my classmates and I got13. Was I in trouble? Did I do something wrong?
Then Mrs. Bush told the class how much she14 all the work that went into the essays and everyone had done a great job. But, she said, one student15 as an excellent writer. That student was me!
The class clapped their hands wildly and Mrs. Bush handed me my paper, with the following16on it," You are a very excellent writer. You17 your essay with your true feeling and creativity. Please keep on writing and share your18 of writing with the class." I made it.
Mrs. Bush helped me feel a sense of19and a way to go through the hard transition (过渡) in my life. She helped me gain20 in myself that stayed with me beyond my school life.