As far back as I can remember， the glass jar 36 0n the floor beside the small 37 in my par

ents'room. Dad would 38 his pockets and put his coins into the 39 every day. As a small boy， I was always 40 to hear the sounds the coins made 41 they were dropped into the jar. I used to sit on the floor in front of the jar and 42 the copper and silver circles shining when the sun poured through the window.

When the jar was 43 ， Dad would sit at the table in their room and count the coins. Every time as we drove to the bank， Dad would look at me 44 . "Those coins are going to keep you 45 what I am doing at the coal mine， son. You're going to do better than me. This old coal mine town's not going t0 46 you back. "

No matter how 47 things got at home， Dad 48 to drop his coins into the jar. _ 49 during the summer when Dad got laid off(解雇) from the coal mine and Mama had t0 50 dried beans for dinner several times a week， no money was taken from the jar.

The years passed， and I finished college and took a job in another town. Once， while visiting my parents， I noticed that the glass jar had been 51 . I felt sad as I 52 the spot(位置) beside the table. My dad was a man of few words and never lectured me on the 53 0f determi- nation and faith.

The jar had _ 54 me all these values far more powerfully than the most flowery of _ 55 could have done. In my mind， it showed， more than anything else， how much my dad had loved me.

36

[A]existed

[B]left

[C]sat

[D]fell