Read the part of an email from your friend Daniel. From: Daniel To: I eat lots of junk food during my school hours. My mum says that I spend all my time playing Computer games or chatting with my friends. But I don’t really like sport. What should I do? Give some advice to your friend writing an informal email (80-100 words

Without bread there is no life. All of their hopes we associate with bread. Living in the city, we don't know about the difficulties faced by rural workers for cultivation and harvest. There is a saying: "Bread is a head". How to explain this value? This means; whoever you were, no matter how rich, without bread for nothing in the world will not survive. We are accustomed every day to see him at his Desk. And the bread is grown with such difficulty! Once went through a wheat field students. Was in a hurry. Thought to take a shortcut and so I went on the field. By the way, they met an old man, a local resident. He told them a story. "By the summer of 1942 the front was already far from us. All gone with the army to the front, in the village there were only old men, women and children. Eat from hand to mouth. All hope was on the wheat ripening in the field. And wheat this year was excellent. Although the front was already far, dogfights, we still could observe. And here one hot summer day, two "Messer" violently attacked our "Yak". The battle was fought over the village, which the Nazis burned during the retreat. All the villagers lived in mud huts. The aircraft fought for a long time. But here's one "Messer" began to smoke and flew away. It crashed in the center of Uzbekistan. The second vulture, frightened, flew away. Hawk was left alone. Suddenly from under him, the smoke. We were frightened: hawk knocked out?! Under it was a wide flat field is the most convenient place for landing. The pilot started to descend, but at the last moment saw on this field of green wheat. He abruptly leveled the plane and flew away over the field. There he finally landed, but as the place was not enough, under heavy braking the aircraft overturned. I was one of the first ran to the plane. The pilot was still alive. He asked us to lift the tail of the plane, so he could open the lid and crawl out. But our forces were too small. The pilot, realizing that all our efforts in vain, began to shout to us: "Go away from here, we will have a blast!" and as I remember his words: "save the Wheat!" We barely managed to run away as there was an explosion. It is because it was summer, scorching hot, no rain, and the pilot wanted to keep the bread, because many people in those years starving and on the front and in the rear." The old man finished his story. All stood in silence. Every thought of his, and on the whole thought about the wheat, which in the summer of 1942 the pilot was killed. Everyone in those years understood how important the bread, so the bread was cherished as the Apple of his eye. In our time the bread is valued less because it very much. And if everyone knew how hard it is to grow rural workers of the bread, then do not squander it. So let us preserve bread!