Two of the saddest words in the English language are "if only". I live my life with the goal of never having to say those words, because they convey regret, lost opportunities, mistakes, and disappointment.
My father is famous in our family for saying, "Take the extra minute to do it right." I always try to live by the "extra minute" rule. When my children were young and likely to cause accidents, I always thought about what I could do to avoid an "if only" moment, whether it was something minor like moving a cup full of hot coffee away from the edge of a counter, or something that required a little more work such as taping padding (衬垫) onto the sharp corners of a glass coffee table.
I don't only avoid those "if only" moments when it comes to safety. It's equally important to avoid "if only" in our personal relationships. We all know people who lost a loved one and regretted that they had foregone an opportunity to say "I love you" or "I forgive you." When my father announced he was going to the eye doctor across from my office on Good Friday, I told him that it was a holiday for my company and I wouldn't be here. But then I thought about the fact that he's 84 years old and I realized that I shouldn't give up an opportunity to see him. I called him and told him I had decided to go to work on my day off after all.
I know there will still be occasions when I have to say "if only" about something, but my life is definitely better because of my policy of doing everything possible to avoid that eventuality. And even though it takes an extra minute to do something right, or it occasionally takes an hour or two in my busy schedule to make a personal connection, I know that I'm doing the right thing. I'm buying myself peace of mind and that's the best kind of insurance for my emotional well-being.
At a talk to some businessmen earlier today, one fellow asked me, “Would you give money to a homeless person, even when you know he's going to use it to buy alcohol?” I replied, “If all was giving was money, it'll be one thing. But for me, whenever I do give money, that's just the wrapping (包装纸) . The real gift is hidden inside – it's love. And l haven't ever found any reason to limit gifts of love.”
By the end of the night, I decided to get some pizza. In front of me in line was a homeless-looking man. He was counting the few dollar bills in his hand, over and over again, until it was his turn to order. Just then, he told the young woman behind the counter, “I'll have the full cheese pizza.” “Full?” she countered. “It's really big.” she added, although what she really meant to say is that it'll be too expensive for him. “Yeah, the full.” “$18.65,” she submitted. The bills he was counting weren't going to make it. I wasn't intending to get the whole pizza for him. But thinking back to my conversation with the business man, l realized that money was really just the wrapping.
I made my move. “Can you charge that pizza with my order?” I said to the cashier. “Really?” the homeless-looking man said. “Really?” the young woman behind the counter repeated. “Yes, really.” That disheveled (凌乱的) man and I had a sweet silent moment. To his silent question of why I was doing it, I added, “Just pay it forward for someone else.” And he said, “Well, you know what? I was actually treating these five homeless guys out there.” He was actually paying it forward, in the first place. What an unexpected fortune to get a chance to be a part of a man's act of kindness.
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In the old days, children were familiar with birth and death as part of life. Now this is perhaps the first generation of American youngsters who have never been close by during of the birth a baby and have never experienced the death of a family member.
Nowadays when people grow old, we often send them to nursing homes. When they get sick, we send them to a hospital, where children are forbidden to visit terminally （晚期的）in patients— even when those patients are their parents. This deprives（剥夺）the dying patient of family members during the last few days of his life and it deprives the children of an experience of death, which is an important learning experience.
Some of my colleagues and I once interviewed and followed about 500 terminally in order to find out what they could teach us and how we could be of more benefit, not just to them but to the members of their families as well. We were most impressed by the fact that even those patients who were not told of their serious illness were quite aware of its potential（潜在的）outcome.
It is important for family members, and doctors and nurses to understand these patients' communication in order to truly understand their needs, fears and fantasies （幻想）. Most of our patients welcomed another human being with whom they could talk openly, honestly, and frankly about their trouble. Many of them shared with us their great need to be informed, to be kept up —to —date on their medical condition and to be told when the end was near. We found out that patients who had been dealt with openly and frankly were better able to cope with the coming of detach and finally to reach a true stage of acceptance before death.
I was in my first year of college, making friends and enjoying life, but then my whole world turned upside down. I had a heart attack. It felt like someone was stabbing (刺) me in the chest with a knife over and over again.
After three months of rest I went back to college, but then things took a turn for the worse. I was staying at my Nana's house and woke up in the middle of the night with a terrible pain in my chest. I knew I was having a heart attack again.
I couldn't even shout for help. Luckily my grandpa was going to the toilet and heard me falling out of bed. If it wasn't for him, I probably wouldn't be here.
The two holes in my heart were causing the problems and I needed an operation immediately to repair them. Unfortunately, the surgery didn't go well and they only managed to repair one of the holes.
When I woke up from the operation, I had a really dry mouth and couldn't wait to have something to eat and drink. The biggest shock of all came when I was told that I needed a heart transplant and was put on the register. The doctors were stunned at how quickly heart failure came on – it usually takes years, but it took my heart less than six months to get to that stage. My whole world came crashing down, but I stayed strong. It was a choice between crying every day and getting on with my life.
As time went on, life became even harder. I hated feeling weak all the time and needing help with everything. It got to the point where I thought I would never get a new heart. I was diagnosed with depression.
Even though I thought that Christmas 2008 would be my last, I really enjoyed it and even had a good New Year. Everyone was crying for me when the clock struck midnight and they told me to keep fighting.
A week later, I got a call from the doctors saying they'd found a suitable donor (捐赠人). My wish came true and thankfully the operation went well. I spent four hours in surgery where they took out my old heart and put a new one in. When I woke up I burst out crying. I had a second chance at life.
“I like photography because it captures amazing things that you might not see again,” Timmy Walsh says. He takes pictures of flowers, sunsets and road signs. But those photos don't usually end up in a scrapbook(剪贴簿) or on his bedroom walls.
When Timmy was five, he found out that his aunt Bev had lung cancer. He wanted to do something to help her. His first idea was to sell his photos from a lemonade--type stand in front of his house in Pennsylvania. “My mom said it wouldn't work because we were not on a busy street,” Timmy explains.
His next idea was to have an art show. Timmy decorated his home with candles, flowers, and white lights. Then he arranged his photos. Timmy's mom, Sheila, remembers: “Our dining-room table was filled, the living room—everything was filled with photos.” Friends, family, and Timmy's teachers came to the show. He raised more than $300 for cancer research that night. Aunt Bev was “very happy and excited,” he says.
After a local newspaper wrote a story about Timmy's photos, a volunteer offered to help him set up a website. As people learned about his cause, called Camera for a Cure, Timmy began receiving invitations to sell his pictures at art galleries and fund-raisers. Since then, his work has appeared in more than 20 shows.
When Timmy is at a show, he greets each customer and talks about what he was thinking when he took his photos. And he always shares facts about lung cancer. Sometimes donations and sales are slow, but that doesn't bother him. “It doesn't matter how much money we made because we just raised awareness,” he says. Timmy knows that finding a cure for lung cancer will take time and effort. So Timmy will keep doing his part by shooting and selling photos of the things he sees.
Several years ago, my parents, my wife, my son and I ate at one of those restaurants where the menu is written on a blackboard. After a wonderful dinner, the waiter set the check in the middle of the table. That's when it happened：my father did not reach for the check.
Conversation continued. Finally I realized that I should pick up the check! After hundreds of restaurant meals with my parents, after a lifetime of thinking of my father as the one with dollars, it had all changed. I reached for the check, and my view of myself suddenly changed. I was an adult. I was no longer a kid (child).
Some people mark off (区分) their lives in years, I measure mine in small events. I didn't become a young man at a particular age, like 16, but rather when a kid who wandered in the streets called me “mister”. These events in my life are called “milestones”(里程碑).
There have been other milestones. The cops (policemen) of my youth always seemed big, even huge, and of course they were older than I was. Then one day they were suddenly neither. The day came when I suddenly realized that all the football players in the game I was watching were younger than I was. They were just big kids. With that milestone gone was the dream that someday, maybe I, too, could be a football player. Without ever having reached the hill, I was over it.
I never thought that I would fall asleep in front of the TV set as my father did. Now it's what I do best. I never thought that I would go to the beach and not swim, yet I spent all of August at the shore and never once went into the ocean. I never thought that I would appreciate opera, but now the combination of voice and orchestra attracts me. I never thought that I would prefer to stay home in the evenings, but now I find myself passing up parties. I used to think that people who watched birds were strange, but this summer I found myself watching them, and maybe I'll get a book on the subject. I feel a strong desire for a religious belief that I never thought I'd want, feel close to my ancestors long gone, and echo my father in arguments with my son. I'll still lose….
One day I bought a house. One day－What a day!－I became a father, and not too long after that I picked up the check for my own father. I thought then it was a milestone for me. One day, when I was a little older, I realized it was one for him too, another milestone．
Two of the saddest words in the English language are "if only". I live my life with the goal of never having to say those words, because they convey regret, lost opportunities, mistakes, and disappointment.
My father is famous in our family for saying, "Take the extra minute to do it right." I always try to live by the "extra minute" rule. When my children were young and likely to cause accidents, I always thought about what I could do to avoid an "if only" moment, whether it was something minor like moving a cup full of hot coffee away from the edge of a counter, or something that required a little more work such as taping padding (衬垫) onto the sharp comers of a glass coffee table.
I don't only avoid those "if only" moments when it comes to safety. It's equally important to avoid "if only" in our personal relationships. We all know people who lost a loved one and regretted that they had foregone an opportunity to say "I love you" or "I forgive you." When my father announced he was going to the eye doctor across from my office on Good Friday, I told him that it was a holiday for my company and I wouldn't be here. But then I thought about the fact that he's 84 years old and I realized that I shouldn't give up an opportunity to see him. I called him and told him I had decided to go to work on my day off after all.
I know there will still be occasions when I have to say "if only" about something, but my life is definitely better because of my policy of doing everything possible to avoid that eventuality. And even though it takes an extra minute to do something right, or it occasionally takes an hour or two in my busy schedule to make a personal connection, I know that I'm doing the right thing. I'm buying myself peace of mind and that's the best kind of insurance for my emotional well-being.
Recently, as the British doctor Robert Winston took a train from London to Manchester, he found himself becoming steadily angry. A woman had picked up her phone and begun a loud conversation, which would last an unbelievable hour. Furious, Winston began to tweet about the woman. He took her picture and sent it to his more than 40,000 followers.
When the train arrived at its destination, Winston rushed out. He'd had enough of the woman's rudeness. But the press were now waiting for her on the platform. And when they showed her Winston's messages, she used just one word to describe Winston's actions: rude.
Winston's tale is something of a microcosm(缩影) of our age of increasing rudeness, fueled by social media. What can we do to fix this?
Studies have shown that rudeness spreads quickly, almost like the common cold. Just witnessing rudeness makes it far more likely that we, in turn, will be rude later on. The only way to avoid it is to deal with it face to face. We must say, "Just stop." For Winston, that would have meant approaching the woman, telling her that her conversation was frustrating other passengers and politely asking her to speak more quietly or make the call at another time.
The rage and injustice we feel at the rude behavior of a stranger can drive us to do odd things. In my own research, surveying 2,000 adults, I discovered that the acts of revenge people had taken ranged from the ridiculous to the disturbing. Winston did shine a spotlight on the woman's behavior — but from afar, in a way that shamed her.
We must instead combat rudeness head on. When we see it occur in a store, we must step up and say something. If it happens to a colleague, we must point it out. We must defend strangers in the same way we'd defend our best friends. But we can do it with grace, by handling it without a trace of aggression and without being rude ourselves. Because once rude people can see their actions through the eyes of others, they are far more likely to end that strain themselves. As this tide of rudeness rises, civilization needs civility.
What is one of the most boring and tiresome words ever? Like discipline, responsibility is one of those words you have probably heard so many times from authority figures that you have been a bit allergic to it. Still, it's one of the most important things to grow and to feel good about your life. Without it as a foundation nothing else in any personal development book really works.
It's been said that the line between childhood and adulthood is crossed when we move from saying "It got lost" to "I lost it". Indeed, being accountable, understanding and accepting the role our choices play in the things that happen are important signs of emotional and moral maturity. That's why responsibility is one of the main supports of good character.
Many people have been refusing to grow up and avoiding the burdens implied in being accountable. Yes, responsibility sometimes requires us to do things that are unpleasant or even frightening. It asks us to carry our own weight, prepare and set goals and exercise the discipline to reach our ambitions. But the benefits of accepting responsibility are far more important than the short-lived advantages of refusing to do so. No one makes his or her life better by avoiding responsibility. In fact, irresponsibility is a form of self-forced servitude (苦役)to circumstances and to other people.
George Bernard Shaw once said, "People are always blaming their circumstances for what they are. I don't believe in circumstances. The people who get on in this world are the people who get up and look for the circumstances they want, and, if they can't find them, make them." "Man must stop owing his problems to his environment and learn again to exercise his will —his personal responsibility in the realm of faith and morals," said Albert Schweitzer.
The following incident shows blaming others and not taking full responsibility: Bernard L. Brow. Jr. once worked in a hospital where a patient knocked over a cup of water, which spilled on the floor beside the patient's bed. The patient was afraid he might slip on the water if he got out of the bed, so he asked a nurse to mop it up. The patient didn't know it, but the hospital policy said that small spills were the responsibility of the nurse while large spills were to be mopped up by the hospital's housekeeping group.
The nurse decided the spill was a large one and she called the housekeeping group. A housekeeper arrived and declared the spill a small one. An argument followed. "It's not my response." Well, it's not mine." she said," the puddle is too small."
The angry patient listened for a time, then took a pitcher of water from his night table and poured the whole thing on the floor. "Is that a big enough puddle now for you two to decide?" he asked. It was, and that was the end of the argument.
So, responsibility is about our ability to respond to circumstances and to choose the attitudes, actions and reactions that shape our lives. It is a concept of power that puts us in the driver's seat. The grand sight of the potential of our lives can only be appreciated when we begin to be accountable and independent. If you want more control over your life and the pleasures, power of freedom and independence, all you have to do is be responsible. Responsible people not only depend on themselves, but show others that they can be depended on.
Ecofriendly Vauban, lied in the southwest part of Germany, has everything—treelined streets, perfect houses—but it's missing one urban feature of the last 100 years or so: the car. And Vauban residents don't mind one bit. Vauban doesn't ban cars entirely. Rather, it just tries to reduce the use of cars by creating "parkingfree" and "carfree" living. In Vauban, parking spots are a nono private property. Cars can only be parked in public parking lots, so living without a car saves residents the cost of parking in the public lot. Cars also are prevented from using certain roads and must stick to strict speed limits. With these limitations, fewer than 20 percent of residents own cars. And now, with a population of 5,500, it's attracting attention from around the world. Can an ecofriendly city like Vauban be a model for Americans to stop their over reliance on the cars?
Sometimes when I watch a news report what's in the back of my mind is what isn't being reported or stressed. While this ecofriendly city is inspiring in that it shows residents getting exercise and fresh air through the majority use of bicycles, as well as good oldfashioned walking, common sense would tell you that even for a place like Vauban, Germany, it owes its existence to the cars.
Do you think that bicycles were able to transport all the construction materials that were needed to build and maintain the ecofriendly homes and businesses in Vauban? It took cars to help build this city. It's one of the paradoxes of life that sometimes in order to get away from relying on something like the car, you actually have to rely on that very thing at the beginning and into the foreseeable future to some degree.
I myself haven't owned a car for more than 14 years, and mostly get around town running, walking, or using public transportation. There are times I wish I had one, since it would make many things easier, but overall I'm glad not to have to deal with the headaches of owning a car, which caused me to get rid of it in the first place. And all the walking and running has helped to keep me fit and healthy. To get even close to being like ecofriendly Vauban, Americans will need to absolutely change the way they live. Commuting (乘车上下班) patterns will have to change, public transportation will have to be invested in, and so on. And though ending our love affair with the car will be impossible during my lifetime, we may at least start to see more Vaubanlike areas in the USA.
We can hope that Americans will consider using their feet more to get around, cutting down on pollution, and giving themselves some more exercise.
My family lives in Texas. I was born and brought up in Texas and I am a graduate of the University of Texas. However, around my second year in law school, I wanted to make a great change, which was almost unheard of for Texans： I wanted to leave!
I realized this after completing my first﹣year internship (实习期). I knew I wanted something different and my chance came during the 2011 Super Bowl (橄榄球超级大赛) in Dallas. A snowstorm blanketed the entire city in snow and thousands of people were gathered. I overheard that StubHub, a big company from a great city, San Francisco, was throwing a party next door to my hotel. I thought if I could get an internship, I could leave for the summer and at least see what it was like. Yes, it was a huge leap. I told myself I was ready.
There was just one problem: I wasn't invited to the StubHub party. But you know I'm the type of person who goes for something she wants. Needless to say, I crashed the party and found my way to the president. I kindly introduced myself and then asked if they had a legal internship program. Guess what? They accepted my request to be a legal intern, even though no such program existed.
The legal department didn't have a permanent position for me. However, I got many other chances to be a legal intern in other companies. That experience has shaped my life. Working for a great company in San Francisco, I'm incredibly happy for making my decision to leave Texas.
By leaving Texas, I learned that it is so much more rewarding to try the unfamiliar than to stay in the comfort zone. Exploring the unfamiliar is how you'll understand what fits your life. I say, dive in headfirst.
My neighbor's eight-year-old daughter used to stay in the countryside, her native place. Recently her parents brought her to town to live with them. Wild and uneducated, she would swear or use dirty words when she was displeased. Sometimes she went so far as to roll on the ground, to the shock of all people around. Her parents tried to tame her by beating and kicking, only to result in more violent outbursts. Finally they became thoroughly disappointed with her.
One day their next-door neighbor, a retired woman teacher, gave the girl a snow-white dress, which was very beautiful. It immediately caught the girl's eyes and made them shine brightly.
The girl put on the dress and became quite another person. She no longer abused or hit others, even less rolled on the floor. She knew running wild was beneath her in such a beautiful dress. Since then the girl has been gentle, neat, and lovely.
The story set me thinking a lot. Perhaps everyone has a beautiful dress hidden somewhere in his or her heart. Only some people are not aware of it, forget it or give it up. Beauty is a power force or weapon—that's something unrealized by many of us. It can arouse fine qualities that humans are born with but have so far hidden somewhere. It has a soul-shaking influence that is indeed unmatched.
A few weeks ago, I found myself taken aback by the strange and rough behavior of a medical practitioner(行医者). For the first time that I could remember, I had missed an appointment, and she called to berate me. Yes, it was my fault, but I think I subconsciously avoided the appointment due to the aggressive communication we had had thus far.
I had a sense of what I was getting into when I chose to go with her — I was warned about her bedside manner — but she came, highly recommended by multiple people, and I did not have the energy to keep looking for other options. So I went with her and made myself ready for the journey.
But I was not prepared. She screamed at me for minutes on end, as I sat there, unable to get a word in, feeling terribly guilty and ashamed of the missed appointment and having wasted her time. There was no calm talk about paying for the missed appointment.
After the phone call, I felt terrible. I believe that everything happens for a reason, and that everyone we meet comes into our lives for a reason.
A week or so later, after telling a friend about the event, I was blessed with this insight: This woman's attacking voice was familiar, and it was personified and strengthened by my harsh(刺耳的), critical inner voice. My friend helped me see what a blessing this encounter was. If I could see my inner critic as this woman with her associated foolish behaviour, I would not allow myself to buy into it.
I remember I once read an article which says that when we look at the behavior of others, we are looking at a mirror. According to the "Mirror Theory", when we observe character defects(缺点) in other people, we are really seeing the undeveloped and unresolved parts of our personality. With this in mind, not only do I need to examine how I view and treat myself, but also other people. So eventually, my encounter with this practitioner was for the best.
What is an accent? An accent is a flavoring to you that influences the sounds of words and sentences. In Birmingham you might hear "lake" sounding close to "like", and in Ireland you might hear "this" sounding close to "diss".
Accents are related to social group. Everyone has an accent, and for every accent there are groups of people who react badly to it. These reactions arc the result of prejudice — an unreasoned jumping to conclusions.
Everybody has prejudices about accents. I certainly do. I have held prejudices about other people's accents. But over the years，my experience of working with people from all kinds of backgrounds has led me to give up these prejudices. However, I still have prejudices that I find difficult to control.
Studies tell us that no accent is better than any other. But the reality is that many people judge others according to accents. Jacob, Member of Parliament, remembers when he first stood unsuccessfully for election in Fife, Scotland, "I gradually realized that whatever I happened to be speaking about, the number of voters in my favor dropped as soon as I opened my mouth."
And sonic people change their accents to sound more refined when talking to people outside their circle of family and friends.
Sky News ran a report recently in which an 18-year-old woman was trying to sound less posh, that is speaking non-standard English, because she didn't like the strangers telling her that she must be rich and from a famous family.
Lastly, it's worth being reminded that people can have an accent and still be recognized.
For years I hadn't known much about gardening. I grew up in the countryside but got hooked on music and drawing and put a great deal of effort into books. As a teenager, the fields beyond my home became a green barrier to the big city I so longed to be part of. I was always full of life, free from worries.
Breaking up with Josh changed everything. I felt so lost and alone. Yet I didn't turn to gardening for recovery straight away. That summer I went to a dozen festivals, danced my way through sleepless weekends and relied on kind friends. But none of them worked for long.
Then one day I walked to the balcony, seeing sunflowers blooming brightly in the wind. They made me realize that plants always carried on. "How small my heartbreak is in the grand scheme of things, " I said to myself. I had no idea where I'd end up living, but I could rely on those cycles of growth, decay(衰退)and renewal. There was something enormously comforting in that.
Gradually, the need for green space became a habit that changed my life. When I was staying with friends, I'd hunt out parks. Within a couple of months, I'd signed up as a volunteer at a local community garden and would get there early on Sunday mornings, as if it were my own kind of church.
It's not surprising that being outdoors and surrounding myself with nature helped me through this difficult time. Studies by the Royal College of Physicians have found that gardening can lower blood pressure, relieve anxiety and depression, boost mood, and burn calories.
Fifteen months later, I found a new home, nestled in a patch of south London woodland. I have 30 houseplants in total and my balcony blooms all year around, so it feels like both an oasis(绿洲)and somewhere to think.
Life is still sometimes frustrating. Difficult things still happen. But these days I know how to treat myself: I make sure I go outside, breathe in, look at what's growing, and I always feel better.
One day while trying to print all the class worksheets we needed for the day, I found myself shouting at my printer in front of my son. "Why won't this stupid thing print?" I shouted. My son came up to me quietly, saying, "Calm down, Mommy. Maybe if you don't shout at the printer, it will work. You need to have patience."
He was right. I needed patience-patience with this whole situation. I stopped myself, realizing this was not the behavior I wanted my son to see. He was also right that I needed to calm down. Just like what I told him to do, I took a few deep breaths and walked away from the collapsed printer. Later that day when we were outside, I tried to keep the sense of calm I had slightly achieved. Once I blocked out all the anxiety over the virus, school, and my work-I found the afternoon peaceful and pleasant. I played flying disc with my son, simply enjoying each other's company while the birds sang. It was an everyday moment I'll never take for granted again.
From then on, things got a little easier. I started to give myself, and everyone else, some favour. I stopped holding myself to my perfectionism standards with every little thing because they were truly impossible to keep to.
With that favour, I changed my focus. Getting every school worksheet done correctly is not important. Neither is cleaning the house. And, apart from getting fired, neither is my work. Spending time with my family, and staying healthy emotionally and physically, became my main concerns. We took walks. We danced our hearts out during the Disney Family Sing-Along. We got up early and walked secretly into our backyard with telescopes to bird watch. Who knows, birding may be the new hobby we're never giving up.
When was the last time someone unexpectedly did something nice for you? Not someone you knew, but a total stranger? It's happened to me a few times, but two instances really stand out.
A few years ago, I was dining in a restaurant with a friend who kept talking about himself, completely not aware of the fact that I was sitting there in misery. It wasn't my friend's talks that made me suffer. I was recovering from a broken heart, and just sitting down to dinner reminded me of my last relationship. I could have burst into tears right there at the table.
When we picked up the check, the waitress said, "Your meal was already paid for." My friend and I didn't have a clue how it happened. Then I remembered a man coming in out of the corner of my eye. He was dressed in mostly white, sat down at the bar, had a beer, and stayed for maybe ten minutes. The waitress said, "Yes, the gentleman in white paid for you." It felt like an angel was saying "I see you, honey. It's going to be okay."
Just last year, I was running a half-marathon. With just 1 mile to go, I was out of gas. Runners call it "hitting the wall". I thought I couldn't move another inch. Out of nowhere, a stranger came up to me and said, "What's your name, sweetie? Jennifer? Okay, Jennifer, let's go! Come on! It's just around the corner! You can do it!" And he ran with me until I picked up my pace. I found him at the finish line to thank him for the encouragement only to learn he wasn't even supposed to be in the race that day.
I still shake my head when I think of these momentary angels that came to me at my point of need. Do you have any experiences like these?
One day I was thinking of something new to read. When I asked my sister for(suggest), she told me to read A Child Called "It". After reading this book, it(natural) became my favorite book. It taught me a lot of necessary things in life many people don't bother to appreciate until they're(miss).
This book has inspired me in many ways. It made me realize that I'm so fortunate to have a caring and loving mom. As I read the book, I(notice) what the boy wanted was love from his mom, but that was impossible for him to get., his mom would abuse him. This book also taught me to appreciate and be happywhat I have. I often cry because I'm unable to get new shoes or clothes. The child in the book was hardly surviving with the thingshe had. He hardly had enough clothes over(he) body to keep him from freezing and he didn't even have shoes.
Until this day, A Child Called "It"(be) still my favorite book. (inspire) by this book, I'm sure to become a better person.
My favorite novel is Albert Camus's The Plague(鼠疫). It was published in 1947, after Word WarⅡ.
On the surface, it's a story about an Algerian coastal town threatened by a mysterious plague. But the symbolic idea works on the concrete presentation of a metaphysical(形而上学的) problem, which is the cruel fact of suffering. Like the plague, it's just a thing that happens in the world whether we want it to or not. Camus's novel asks if we can think of suffering not as an individual burden but as a shared experience—and maybe turn it into something positive.
The key is to recognize the universality of suffering. A plague is an extraordinary event and the horror it results in is extraordinary, too. But suffering is anything but extraordinary. Every day you leave the house, something terrible could happen. The same is true for all. All of us are subject to forces over which we have no control.
A pandemic(大流行病) forces us to think about our responsibilities to the people around us. The hero of The Plague is a committed doctor named Rieux. From the very beginning, Rieux devotes himself to resisting the plague that united It's victims. Each character in the story is defined(刻画) by what they do when the plague comes. No one escapes it, but those who reduce the suffering of others are the most fulfilled. The only villains are those who cannot see beyond themselves. The plague, for these people, is either an excuse to flee or an opportunity to make profIt's. Because they can't see that their condition is shared, a spirit of unity is completely foreign to them. And that blindness makes community impossible.
At the very end of The Plague, Camus stated his philosophy that the struggle against suffering is never over for good. The plague will return, and so will everything else that upsets humans. But the point of the book is that a shared struggle is what makes community possible in the first place.
A pandemic, terrible though it is, highlights our mutual interdependence in a way that only tragedy can. The beauty of The Plague is that it asks the reader to map the lessons of the pandemic onto everyday life. The principles that drive the hero, Rieux, are the same principles that make every society worthwhile—understanding, love and unity.
If we learn these lessons, in a moment of crisis, we'll all be better off on the other side of it.
I began to grow up that winter night when my parents and I were returning from my aunt's house, and my mother said that we might soon be leaving for America. We were on the bus then. I was crying, and some people on the bus were turning around to look at me. I remember that I could not bear the thought of never hearing again the radio program for school children to which I listened every morning.
I do not remember myself crying for this reason again. In fact, I think I cried very little when I was saying goodbye to my friends and relatives. When we were leaving I thought about all the places I was going to see—the strange and magical places I had known only from books and pictures. The country I was leaving and never to come back was hardly in my head then.
The four years that followed taught me the importance of optimism(乐观), but the idea did not come to me at once. For the first two years in New York I was really lost—having to study in three schools as a result of family moves. I did not quite know what I was or what I should be. Mother remarried, and things became even more complex for me. Some time passed before my stepfather(继父)and I got used to each other. I was often sad, and saw no end to "the hard times. "
My responsibilities in the family increased a lot since I knew English better than everyone else at home. I wrote letters, filled out forms, translated at interviews with immigration officers(移民局官员), took my grandparents to the doctor and translated there, and even discussed telephone bills with company representatives.
From my experiences I have learned one important rule: Almost all common troubles go away at last! Something good is certain to happen in the end when you do not give up, and just wait a little! I believe that my life will turn out all right, even though it will not be that easy.
