[简答题]I used to find notes left in the collection basket, beautiful notes about my homilies and about the writer’s thoughts on the daily scriptural readings. The person who penned the notes would add reflections to my thoughts and would always include some quotes from poets and mystics he or she had read and remembered and loved. The notes fascinated me.Here was someone immersed in a search for truth and beauty. Words had been treasured, words that were beautiful. And I felt as if the words somehow delighted in being discovered, for they were obviously very generous to the as yet anonymous writer of the notes. And now this person was in turn learning the secret of sharing them. Beauty so shines when given away. The only truth that exists is, in that sense, free.

I used to find notes left in the collection basket of the church, beautiful notes about my homilies(讲道)and about the writer’s thoughts on the daily readings. The (1) fascinated me. But it was a long time (2) I met the author of the notes.
One Sunday morning, I was (3) that someone was waiting for me in the office, a young woman who said she (4) all the notes. When I saw her I was (5) , since I had no idea thatit was she who wrote the notes. She was sitting in a chair in the office. Her (6) was bowed and when she raised it to look at me, she could barely (7) without pain. Her face was disfigured(畸形), so smiling was very (8) for her. We (9) for a while that Sunday morning and agreed to meet for lunch later that week. As it (10) , we went to lunch several times, and we shared things about our (11) . We spoke of authors we both had (12) , and it was easy to tell that
A. chatted
B. discussed
C. drank
D. greeted