"What will we be singing for contest this year?" a student from my choir asked eagerly. "Maybe we will 1 the contest. " I said. "NO!" the kids 2 my idea. "We should go to contest! We can do it!"
I looked at the medals 3 the front wall of the music room from the past successes of large, talented classes. A change in educational policies, with a 4 on academics, had 5 my choir to thirty-two students. My section leaders had graduated or been forced to 6 music classes, leaving me with young, 7 kids who couldn't read music and could sing only a simple melody.
"I'll think about it," I said, hoping their enthusiasm would 8 in a couple of weeks. I couldn't tell them they weren't good enough because I had to protect their self-esteem. 9 , the kids practiced each morning, working on sight-reading(视唱)and learning musical terms. I was amazed at the 10 force that kept pushing them on. Their 11 was so remarkable even I began believing in their dream. The contest day finally arrived. The results were 12 two very long hours later. I stood there, 13 , staring at the list in disbelief: a First Place Award with the highest marks of all. "We made it!" All around kids were screaming with delight. Warm tears wet my cheeks and my heart swelled with pride for these kids who had a 14 . They refused to give up and taught me to never 15 the possibility of success for any student or any class ever again.
