Years ago, while working as a psychologist at a children's institution in England, I encountered David, a 14-year-old boy facing extreme loss. His father died when he was still a baby, and his mother 1 away the previous year. David was mentioned to me by his head teacher, who expressed 2 about his deep sadness and refusal to 3 .
During our first meetings, David remained silent,4 in a chess book on my table. Noticing that, I suggested we play a chess game. He didn't look up at me, but gently 5 . After the chess game, I invited him to comeback next week to play chess game together. Seeing his hesitation. I patted him on the head 6 and said, "I know it hurts." Since that, we played chess every Wednesday afternoon-in complete 7 and without making any eye 8 .
As winter turned to spring, David's behavior 9 . He started engaging more energetically with the 10 . One day, as lilacs（丁香花）blossomed, he looked up and said, "It's your turn." From that moment, David began to open up. He formed friendships, and even expressed his 11 of attending university. Our treatment ceased as he accepted and started living his own life.
12 on this experience, I realized the powerful impact of time and the importance of being a 13 presence. In our silent chess games, healing occurred, demonstrating that even in the face of 14 pain, time and 15 can bring about positive change.
