Born in Dortmund in 1933—the year the Nazis came to power—Stephanie Shirley fled to Britain at the age of six as a refugee(逃难者). After the war she was reunited with her family. She set up a pioneering software business, with just￡6 at 28. Such were her business skills that she went on to bulid a￡150 million fortune.

   Nearly a year after she set up the FI Group, later called Xansa, she gave birth to her only child, Giles. They soon discovered that something was completely wrong with their baby. The Shirleys were destroyed when, after 10 months of specialist doctors' appointments, Giles had severe autism(自闭症).

    To make things worse, adolescence(青春期)hit early for him and he developed epilepsy(癫痫症). "It was very destructive on our lives. At one point we wanted to have a joint family suicide(自杀)because life was so awful and there seemed no future in it" She said. "We pulled back because it would have been the equal of murdering Giles. After all he couldn't give his agreement." At 16, Giles attended the hospital school and appeared to be treated well. But during his later teens the conditions in which he was kept became terrible.

    With her husband she made another difficult decision, this time to bring Giles, who aged 23, home. At the same time Stephanie established a small care home for sufferers, with Giles as the first person to live in. From his early teens Giles had begun to suffer regular and violent epileptic attacks as an obvious consequence of his autism. It was one of these attacks which, in 1998, killed him at the age of 35.

   "The death of a child is acutely painful. I had no idea parental love was so strong," said Stephanie. It was the experience of raising a deeply autistic child that led Stephanie to devote the rest of her life to helping find a cure for the condition which is suffered by more than half a million people in the UK. Since 2001 Stephanie has donated around￡50 million to autism research.

"Where is the light?"My dad used to ask me that when I was little. It's one of those questions that parents use to find out how smart their young children are. During my teenage years, my dad jokingly told me that he thought I was going to be dim-witted because I pointed at him whenever he asked me where the light was.

   Dad is from a rural area about 230 kilometers north of the capital Manila, and where most people live off the land, raising and selling livestock and poultry. His father, an artist and street magician, died when he was very young. To make ends meet, his mother went about town and washed laundry in various households. My dad found himself alone——lack of nurturing and love, short of family bonds.

   Dad loved reading and always looked for opportunities to educate himself. One day, when my father was 16 and out of work, a pastor saw him sitting under a tree absorbed in a book. He approached Dad and asked him why he wasn't in school. Dad replied that he had no money for college. The pastor saw his desire to study and recommended him to University of the Cordilleras as a working student. He also gave Dad a job at a local church. Thanks to the pastor, Dad got his Bachelor of Arts degree, then went on to study law and became a successful lawyer. He wrote a widely read textbook on Philippine law.

   Looking at my father now, I can see how he was able to overcome so many obstacles. He is by nature a hardworking man, pouring his energy into his career without forgetting his family. He values education——when we were younger, he would tell me and my brother to constantly seek improvement in ourselves through learning.

   Like a light, he shines with dignity and respect because of his achievements, but his light radiates the brightest for maintaining our family as a cohesive unit with love and faith as its foundation.

   There are times when my dad kids around and asks me, using my childhood nickname, "Sasi, where's the light?"

   I just smile, and point at him.

A lot of interesting things have happened in the past several months as people from all walks of life learn how to stretch their money. A lot of changes have been sped up by the fuel shocks during the summer of 2008; in a lot of ways we seem to be returning to the frugal (economical) sensibilities of a past generation. More people are choosing to be more picky when they swipe their credit cards even if that means not buying things until they have money in their bank accounts, the days of the $ 0-down mortgage(抵押贷款)seem to be murdered, and there is a lot more acceptance of environmentally-friendly technologies that promise to reduce our overall dependency on foreign oil even if it means taking a hit to the superabundance that used to define our quality of living.

   An interesting new trend being taken by small businesses is the practice of offering discounted prices to customers willing to pay in cash. This is not the same as paying "under the table" — rather, the store saves its merchant processing fees and passes those savings on to the customers. The idea is a good one in principle — paying in cash forces consumers to figure out what they are spending as much as it saves stores from transaction(交易)fees.

   Of course there are drawbacks to the plan. When people pay in cash, they tend to be more conservative with their spending since they tangibly (really) feel their money leave their possession. That will cause stores to lose profits because customers will think twice before buying high-margin(高边际利润)"impulse" products at checkout whereas before they might not have thought twice before charging it. Increased volume of cash handling opens stores to loss through employee theft at the till (抽屉), not to mention controls that need to be put into place to count and deposit physical currency.

   Our family has saved a fortune by switching to cash. When getting to the bottom of your change jar means no more purchase power until your next pay period, you really start to appreciate the fine art of merchandising(做买卖)and the expertise applied to make you want to buy more and more. Cold hard cash feels more organic, and helps us to appreciate the effort it takes to maintain our lifestyle.

Four years ago my sweet mom went to be with her Lord. She did it her way.

I got the call at work, and I headed home quickly. Mom and dad lived on a small farm that they had owned since I was seven. I hated going there every weekend. There was nothing for a young girl to do but watch the one station on the old TV set, if the weather allowed reception.

My mom, on the other hand, loved the peace and quiet of the land and loved to work in the garden among her flowers and vegetables. The place was rustic(乡村的), with no indoor plumbing(煤水电管道) or heat. We had a big wood stove in the kitchen that did its best to heat the little farmhouse, but it always seemed cold and too quiet to me.

In the evenings, my mom and I would sit for hours singing in the little kitchen. I sang the melody and Mom harmonized. Her favorite song was "Moon River" and we sang it over and over. Mom told me stories about how when I was a little girl, I could sing before I could talk. She loved to tell how my playpen sat in the kitchen next to the radio and there was one song I particularly loved called "Ivory Tower".

As time passed, I had my own children and went to visit every week or two. The kids loved the farm and the tractor rides with my dad. Me, well, I still hated the silence of the farm. While my mom loved to sit at her kitchen table and look out at her garden and flowers and retell all the old stories, I missed the hustle and bustle of my life at home. But I sat there listening quietly as she reminisced.

Now, I sat back in the silence and the silence was deafening so I finally leaned over to turn on an old radio. Music always comforted me.

My heart skipped a beat. "Moon River" was playing on the radio. I sat there stunned, with a tear running down my cheek, as I listened to every familiar note.

Then the radio announcer of this oldie station came on. "Hereˈs one we havenˈt heard in a while," and an unfamiliar song began. I began to cry harder as I heard the words sung over the airwaves. "Come down, come down from your Ivory Tower..."

  During this shopping season, salesmen will come up with different strategies to get your business. Many product companies use specific colors to cause positive emotions and compete for a sale. However, sight is not the only sensory retail that companies use. Sounds and smells can influence consumer's purchasing decisions.

   Nobel Prize-winning research shows that our sense of smell has great power to cause an emotional response. A study published earlier this year compared purchasing in a French flower shop when the smell of lavender(薰衣草)was given off and when it wasn't. It found that the smell increased the number of consumers', purchasing items and the amount of their purchases. An earlier study using Nike shoes found that consumers desired the shoes more, and were willing to pay more, when the room had a mixed smell of flowers. Realizing the subconscious impact of smell, many stores apply artificial scents through their heating and air-conditioning vents(通风口)or place scent machines above their doors. For instance, a coconut scent might make that bikini more appealing as you long for a vacation.

   Ever felt frenzied due to a store's fast-paced music? Or calmed by a piece of light music? A retailer's choice of music can have a big impact on consumers' moods. One study found that when subjected to loud music, consumers will spend less time in a store. But interestingly, the researchers did not find a difference in sales or customers' satisfaction. Another interesting finding from a recent study was that customers actually shop longer when exposed to unfamiliar music. Just as department stores use different scents in certain departments, many use different music in some areas to appeal to varying consumers.

   Well, you could always leave the store and take a break, but the food court probably isn't your best choices as brands like Cinnabon and Panera Bread also use scents as part of their customers' experience. Online retailers use a variety of other strategies to get your business, but you can always neglect those and enjoy the familiar scents of home.

  I sat with a friend a few weeks ago as she scrolled through photos on her phone of her college freshman daughter. She asked me, "Doesn't she look good? Doesn't she look happy? She looks OK, right?" Her daughter had recently had a difficult time, which was now over, but her mother—like all mothers would—still worried, sometimes, that something might be wrong.

   For generations of parents, sending children off to college meant knowing little to nothing about how their children were doing. Other than the occasional letter or a call from a dorm room phone, children who had left home were mostly unseen and heard from infrequently. College kids could get into all kinds of trouble and their parents would know nothing about it until Christmas vacation or summer break.

   Now, of course, that's not at all how it is. Parents of college students can spend hour upon hour examining photos on Instagram or Facebook of their children. They look for hints of sadness in their eyes, the way their clothes fit, whether they're really smiling or just sort of smiling.

   However, I don't think it's necessary. College is a time of intense personal growth. Pain is an essential lesson for the emotional leap from childhood to adulthood. Mothers shouldn't be able to see photos in real time that capture their children when they're at their worst—whether because of too much alcohol or too little happiness.

   The blessing of social media is the ability to connect at any time with your child, no matter where he or she may be in the world. Facebook, lnstagram and the rest are keeping our helicopters flying long after they should have landed. Maybe it would be better for all of us to be a little less aware of the state of our children's lives once they leave home. Better for the children, and certainly better for the parents.

  There is no doubt that schools should teach and reinforce(加强)lessons consistent with what's widely accepted to be good citizenship.

   At my daughter's school, there are various awards for academic and sporting achievements, but they save the best rewards for acts of kindness, like going out of one's way to help a teacher clean up or helping other kids. I've found this to be common among many schools in our community.

   Although the schools know that social sharing an contribution are worthy of reward, I've found that they don't meddle in(干涉)many of the important emotional intelligence things: how a kid deals with conflict, social sympathy, and so on. They teach students to care about others, but they don't monitor them to know whether the children are acting properly in practice.

   As parents, it is important to be aware of your kids expressions and how they relate to socially responsible actions. Talking with them about these, actions softly and in private in times of little stress seems to be more effective than it would be for a teacher to talk in front of a group of other kids. In this way, you can have neutral(中立的), peer-level conversations with your kid about the benefits of socially responsible actions.

   One challenge of teaching your kids to be the good members of society is that unlike some other things, this really has to be modeled. However, it's expected that your kid will be exposed to some choices for learning art, music, sports, or other things, but basic values like kindness can't just be taught—they have to be seen and understood. Even then, the benefits are not obvious and have to be both explained and experienced.

   Beyond the basics, I'd assume that motivating kids toward some organized social efforts in school would be quite controversial. However, many schools do this but stop recommending this as life's work, at least in the U. S.

When my sister Martie told me she had put out tomato plants last summer, I was quite impressed.

   She was a garden-beginner. Once they were planted, she tended to water them daily, anxiously awaiting the juicy tomatoes to appear. But, day after day, her plants were tomato-less while all of her neighbors who had also put out tomato plants were already enjoying the fruit of their labor.

   Frustrated, Martie gave in and went to the market to search fresh tomatoes. While paying, Martie told the farmer her troubles. The farmer paused to think for a moment and then asked, "Well, what kind of tomatoes did you plant?"

   "I think they were called Big Boy," Martie remembered.

   "Well there's your problem," the farmer explained. "Big Boy and Better Boy tomatoes have a 95-day gestation (孕育) period whereas regular tomato plants produce fruit in as little as 70 days...you just have to wait a little longer for the Big Boys."

   With that new knowledge, Martie went home with excitement, knowing they would be worth the wait.

   Thinking about my sister's gardening experience, I had to smile. She just didn't know that Big Boy tomatoes took longer--neither did I--but once she discovered that information, she was no longer discouraged and upset about the lack of tomatoes on her plants. Instead, she was encouraged and excited to

see them a few weeks later.

   It makes me wonder how many of us have "Big Boy' dreams in our hearts, yet we just don't realize that they are of the "Big Boy" variety so we are discouraged and worn out with the waiting process. Instead of waiting with excitement, we give up on our dreams and figure we must have done something wrong to stop them from coming to pass. Frustrated, we see other people's dreams coming true, and we wonder why ours haven't yet been achieved.

Maggie and Alex live in a tall building in a neighborhood in the center of the city. There are no trees near their building, but they are happy in their home and it is close to their jobs.

   In the part of the city where they live, there is not much fresh food to buy. The stores only have processed foods in packages. Maggie and Alex and all the other people in the building have to eat food that they buy in boxes and plastic containers.

   This makes so much garbage that no one knows where to put it. While they wait for Fridays, when the city collects the garbage, all the neighbors put their trash into bags and sometimes leave it in the hallway or on the big, sunny roof. The whole building looks terrible. No one can spend time playing on the roof because it is full of trash.

   One day, Maggie and Alex decide to make a change. They go up to the roof and separate all the recyclable garbage, like cardboard, plastic bottles, glass, and aluminum cans. Then they take all of the garbage down to the street for the garbage collectors.

   But they do not carry down the plastic bottles! They cut off the tops and use them as pots to plant tomatoes and carrots. They plant herbs, too.

   Their neighbors get very excited when Maggie and Alex tell them about their project. Whenever they have free time after work or on the weekends, all the neighbors go up to the roof. They enjoy the sun and help take care of the plants in the garden. They all cooperate, and by working together, they soon have a big, beautiful vegetable garden!

   Now the roof looks beautiful, and everyone eats much healthier food. They spend time in their community garden, enjoy the sun, and create much less garbage. In fact, they even save money because they do not have to buy so much packaged food. The garden is a real success, and the building in the center of the city is a much nicer place to live because of it.

   All of the neighbors safeguard their environment and improve it for themselves and for each other.

At thirteen, I was diagnosed with a kind of attention disorder. It made school difficult for me. When everyone else in the class was focusing on tasks, I could not.

   In my first literature class, Mrs. Smith asked us to read a story and then write on it, all within 45 minutes. I raised my hand right away and said, "Mrs. Smith, you see, the doctor said I have attention problems. I might not be able to do it."

   She glanced down at me through her glasses, "You are not different from your classmates, young man."

   I tried, but l didn't finish the reading when the bell rang. I had to take it home. In the quietness of my bedroom, the story suddenly all became clear to me. It was about a blind person, Louis Braille. He lived in a time when the blind couldn't get much education. But Louis didn't give up. Instead, he invented a reading system of raised dots, which opened up a whole new world of knowledge to the blind.

   Wasn't I the "blind" in my class, being made to learn like the "sighted" students? My thoughts spilled out and my pen started to dance. I completed the task within 40 minutes. Indeed, I was not different from others; I just needed a quieter place. If Louis could find his way out of his problems, why should I ever give up?

   I didn't expect anything when I handed in my paper to Mrs. Smith, so it was quite a surprise when it came back to me the next day—with an "A" on it. At the bottom of the paper were these words:"See what you can do when you keep trying?"