I will never forget the day--- September 10^th 2009, when my class went on a field trip to the beach and I had so much fun. When we returned to school, my teacher told me to go to the headmaster’s office. When I got into the office, I saw a police officer. Suddenly, I realized something was wrong. The police officer told me what had happened and we went to pick my sister up. After that, we went to the hospital and waited. Time went slowly. Finally, we got to see our mother. It was terrible.

On the next day, the headmaster came and told my two teachers what had happened. I was taking a test that day. I knew it had something to do with my mother. I kept thinking that she either died or had gotten better. How I wished that she had gotten better. When my teacher took me outside, my sister ran up to me. She started crying, “She’s gone, Terresa, mommy’s gone. She’s dead.” I couldn’t believe it. We jumped into the car and drove straight to the hospital. Most of my family were there. The silence was terrible. I knew I had to say goodbye.

Today when I look back, I still miss my mother very much, but I know that I will live. My mother was a strong mother, who had the biggest heart. She was an angel walking on the earth. I will always remember her as a living. When someone is asked who their hero is, they usually say someone famous, like Michael Jordan or Britney Spears. When someone asks me who my hero is, I tell them, my mother. My mother lives everyday. That is what makes her a true hero.

After much thought, I came up with a brilliant plan. I worked out a way for Rich to meet my mother and win her over. In fact, I arranged it so my mother would want to cook a meal especially for him.

Rich was not only not Chinese and he was a few years younger than I was. And unfortunately, he looked much younger with his curly red hair, smooth pale skin, and the splash of orange freckles(雀斑) across his nose. He was a bit on the short side, compactly built. In his dark business suits, he looked nice but easily forgettable, which was why I didnˈt notice him the first year we worked together at the firm. But my mother noticed everything.

“So what do you think of Rich？”I finally asked, holding my breath.

She tossed the eggplant in the hot oil, angry hissing sound.“So many spots on his face，”she said.

“They are freckles. Freckles are good luck.”I said a bit too heatedly in trying to raise my voice above the noise of the kitchen.

“Oh？”She said innocently.

“Yes, the more spots the better.”

She considered this a moment and then smiled and spoke in Chinese: “When you were young, you got the chicken pox. So many spots, you had to stay home for ten days. So lucky, you thought.”

I couldnˈt save Rich in the kitchen. And I couldnˈt save him later at the dinner table.

When I offered Rich a fork, he insisted on using the slippery ivory chopsticks. Halfway between his plate and his open mouth, a large chunk of red­cooked eggplant fell on his brand new white shirt.

And then he helped himself to big portions of the shrimp and snow peas, not realizing he should have taken only a polite spoonful.

He declined the new greens, the tender and expensive leaves of bean plants. He thought he_was_being_polite_by

_refusing_seconds,_when_he_should_have_followed_my_fatherˈs_example,_who_made_a_big_show_of_taking_small_portions_of_seconds,_thirds_and_even_fourths,_always_saying_he_couldnˈt_resist_another_bite_and_then_groaning_he_was_so_full_he_thought_he_would_burst.

But the worst was when Rich criticized my motherˈs cooking and he didnˈt even know what he had done. As is the Chinese cookˈs custom, my mother always made modest remarks about her own cooking. That night she chose to direct it toward her famous steamed pork and preserved vegetable dish, which she always served with special pride.

“Ai! This dish not salty enough, no flavor，”she complained, after tasting a small bite.

This was our familyˈs cue to eat more and proclaim it the best she had ever made. But before we could do so, Rich said,“You know, all it needs is a little soy sauce.”And he proceeded to pour a riverful of the salty black stuff on the china plate, right before my motherˈs horrified eyes.

And even though I was hoping throughout the dinner that my mother would somehow see Richˈs kindness, his sense of humor and boyish charm. I knew he had failed miserably in her eyes.

Rich obviously had a different opinion on how the evening had gone. When we got home, I was still shuddering, remembering how Rich had firmly shaken both my parentsˈ hands with that same easy familiarity he used with nervous new clients.“Linda, Tim，”he said,“weˈll see you again.”My parentsˈ names are Lindo and Tin Jong, and nobody except a few older family friends ever calls them by their first names.

“What did she say when you told her？”I knew he was referring to our getting married.

“I never had a chance，”I said, which was true. How could I have told my mother I was getting married, when at every possible moment we were alone, she seemed to remark on how pale and ill he looked.

Rich was smiling.“How long does it take to say, Mom, Dad, I am getting married？”

“You donˈt understand. You donˈt understand my mother.”

Age has never been an obstacle (障碍) for 16－year－old Thessalonika Arzu－Embry. After all, she's already got her master's degree.

   The North Chicago－area teen started homeschooling at the age of 4. She began having an influence on others soon after. When she was 6 years old, she was an inspirational speaker at an organization called Tabitha House Community Service, transitional housing for people who were forced to leave their homes due to various situations such as natural disasters, abuse and violence.

   At the age of 11, she graduated from high school and then earned her bachelor's (学士) degree in psychology in 2013. She completed classes online as she was traveling for church events and leadership conferences. Now armed with her master's degree, Thessalonika hopes to help businessmen learn how to prepare for upcoming trends and changes.

   She doesn't stop there, though. The teen plans on focusing on aviation (航空) psychology for her doctoral studies, a decision inspired by her father who is a private pilot and an experienced soldier and now is a manager at O'Hare International Airport. She grew up around airplanes and took flights all the time.

   What exactly can Thessaionika do with aviation psychology? Her goal is to use it to determine whether pilots are dealing with issues that could have deadly results once the plane takes off－a topic that has been in the news lately. For her, it's a mix of two of her interests: business and psychology.

   In her free time, Thessalonika enjoys playing tennis, swimming and being active in her youth group at church. She also has three self－published books, which are available on her site. Jump the Education Barrier is written to help students finish college, and In the Future aims to help business owners with trends. Her third book, The Genius Race, has a wider appeal. It is designed to help people to be geniuses in various areas of life.

“What’s for dinner，Mom?”

   I couldn’t help the smile that broke out on my face upon heating those words. The last-meal-of-the-month had become an eagerly awaited family adventure and I’ll admit，I enjoyed the challenge．“I don’t know，”I answered，“but I’m sure I’ll come up with something．”My son watched as I gathered whatever I found in the refrigerator and cupboards and placed them on the counter where my imagination would magically work out a dinner plan．

With a low income and five hungry mouths to feed，plus our pets，we needed a plan．We made every penny count．It made sense that the more shopping trips we made，the more money we spent and so we shopped once a month，saving money as well as gasoline．In the summer we gardened，preserving our food by canning or freezing our harvest．During the fall and winter I picked delicious greens stored in an old sliding glass can．We ate simple foods and only in season．

   No recipes here．And while my family should have eagerly awaited that first meal of the month, when the house was full of fleshly stocked groceries，the last-meal-of-the-month was the one that attracted all the attention．It became an amusing guessing game as the family wondered what I’d come up with next．

One evening I placed my last-meal-of-the-month masterpiece on the table．“What’s that?” my kids asked，excitedly waiting for the mystery dinner．As I removed the lid from the pan，I heard“Seems yummy!”The family ate the entire meal and insisted I make it again soon．As we cleared the table，my daughter asked，“Mom，what was in that sauce?”With a smile on my face I proudly answered，“I made it from the leftover green peas．”

   My children are all grown，but today I still budget．Delicious homemade food is one of life’s greatest pleasures and a family tradition，but we keep it simple in our home. And believe it or not，we still eat a few of our favorite 1ast-day-of-the-month，thrown-together meals．Simple doesn’t get any better than that！

  C

     Fifty years ago, the well-loved musician Bob Dylan play ed at the Newport Folk Festival and was widely booed  (嘘声).  The audience may have been unhappy but Dylan's performance helped change the direction of music and culture in the United States.

     The mid-1960s were a time of great change. One such place of change was the world of folk music. Bob Dylan became a symbol ofchange when he moved from acoustic (原声的)  to electric guitar.

    Rock music historian Elijah Wald has written a new book about the change.  It is called " Dylan Goes Electric. "

      “There was a moment in the early 1960s when you could look at the Billboard charts and seven

of the top 10 albums were folk records. And Joan Baez, Peter Paul and Mary, the Kingston Trio, all had huge, huge, huge number-one records. "

     And  then this happened: The "British Invasion" introduced the world to the Beatles and grew a huge fan base for rock music. That worried many folk musicians, says Elijah Wald.

    They hoped that Bob Dylan would come to the rescue.  However, a new Dylan sound came from the stage.

     Bob Dylan had gone electric, and the followers of folk music were not pleased.

    "When Dylan went electric, I think one of the issues was the feeling that - wait a minute,

 he's gone over to the enemy. "

     Folk lovers had looked to Bob Dylan to save their movement from rock and roll.  But, author

 Wald says Dylan felt differently about the music.

     " Dylan had always liked rock and roll and Dylan didn't think of rock and roll as stupid music. 

In fact, Dylan was a Beatles fan.  He later said that from the first time he heard the Beatles he

 knew "they were pointing to the direction where music had to go. "

      Beyond the music, Dylan's performance that night also marked a turn in American culture.

   After the examination, the doctor told my parents my sight would get worse and that I would lose my sight finally. On the way home from hospital, no one said a word. One day, would I only imagine the scenery beyond the glass rather than see it?
    That September, I entered middle school. Most nights I had homework that included an armful of books to read. To keep up with other children, I took great trouble to finish the task. With my nose a couple of inches from the page, I was tired easily. What’s worse, after I had read several pages on my own, the words slipped off the page into inky pools.
    However, then I did not have audio books and electronic devices like kids do now. Instead, Mom volunteered to read out loud. Mom worked part-time, cleaned the house, cooked and spent time with Grandma. In spite of being so busy, she showed up in my room like clockwork. She put on her reading glasses. Mom always thought those glasses made her look old. To me, she looked like a teacher.
    In my room, Mom’s voice raced with the ticking of the clock. Being forced to focus on listening, I found a way to keep my marks up and compete with the other kids. When the teacher asked a question, I raised my hand with confidence. Teachers praised me for having a good memory. Reading removed my fear for my failing sight, reading also made me curious about other people’s challenges and how they managed. Though I could not use my eyes to fix on each passage, my mind lit up with every new book.
    True to what the doctor said, the worst came, but thanks to Mom, my sense of hearing now allows me to “see”. This was the most precious gift from a mother to her child.

C

Marc had worked in the city hall’s engineering department for so long that the city was laid out in his mind like a map，full of names and places．And then something happened that filled him with shock．   

One August afternoon，he discovered a card saying GREEN BOTTLE STREET at the back of the drawer．He checked the listed details．It was not there．It was a lost，a forgotten street，which existed in the heart of Montreal，not half a mile from city hall，and no one had known．He put the card in his pocket and the next day he went looking for the street with beating heart．   

At his first glance，Marc realized how it had gotten its unusual name．It was exactly like a bottle in shape．With the sun shining on the garden plots，and the blue sky overhead，the street gave him a sense of peace．A woman some sixty years of age was watering roses in the garden of the first house to his right．   

He announced，“I'm from the city engineering department，madam．”   

The woman recovered herself and set her watering can down．   

“So you have found out at last,” she said．“We paid our taxes and made out a lot of forms and answered the questions of various officials．Then，after a while, we were sent no notices，so we paid no more taxes．No one bothered us at all．It was a long time before we understood that in some way they’d forgotten about us．”   

Marc nodded．Of course，if Green Bottle Street had been ignored by the city hall，no inspectors would go there，no tax collectors．All would pass merrily by．   

“For several years，the tenants(租户) here had lived in harmony with each other and the landlord．The owner became so attached to them that he gave them all he had when he died．I have lived here for more than twenty years．I hope to end my days here as well．”   

She smiled pleasantly at him，apparently forgetting for the moment that he carried in his pocket a bomb that could blow their little world to pieces． 

“You remind me of my nephew,” she said suddenly．“He was a dear boy．I was heart broken when he died．I’m the last of my family, you know．”   

Marc thought of his noisy and violent landlady and neighbors．He could not recall when he had been spoken to with such simple goodwill．His heart warmed to this old lady．“I wonder, ”he said slowly, “I am a good tenant，and I wonder…”   

“Oh yes，”she leaned forward eagerly, “you could have the top floor of my house．I'm sure it would suit you．”   

Marc took the card out of his pocket and tore it across and dropped the pieces in the watering can．As far as he was concerned，Green Bottle Street would remain mislaid forever．

C

Once an old man rose early to read each morning. His grandson wanted to be just like his grandfather, so tried to emulate him every way he could.

    One day the grandson asked, “Grandpa, I try to read just like you do, but I don’t understand most of it, and I forget whatever I do understand immediately I close the book. So what good is it for me to read?”

    The grandfather, who was putting coal on the fire, said, “Take this coal basket down to the river and bring me back a basket of water.”

The boy did as told to, but the water leaked out before he could get the basket home.

The grandfather laughed, saying, “You’ll have to move a little faster.” This time he ran faster, but again the basket emptied. Out of breath, he decided it was impossible to carry water in a basket, and he went to get a bucket（桶）. But the grandfather said, “I want a basket of water instead of a bucket of water. You’re just not trying hard enough.”

The boy knew what he was trying to accomplish was impossible. However, he decided to show his grandfather a third time.

The boy dipped the basket into the river and ran as hard as he could. With the empty basket, he gasped（喘气说）, “See Grandpa? It’s useless!”

“So you think it useless?” the old man asked. “Then look at the basket.” To his surprise, the boy found it washed clean of the dirty coal stains and now clean inside and out.

“My child, that’s what happens when you read the book. You might not understand or remember everything, but the words will change you inside and out. That is the work of reading in our lives.”  

One day an ant was drinking at a small stream and fell in. She made desperate(adj.拼死的) efforts to reach the side, but made no progress at all. The poor ant almost exhausted(adj.精疲力竭的) was still bravely doing her best when a dove saw her. Moved with pity, the bird threw her a blade of grass, which supported her like a raft, and thus the ant reached the bank again. While she was resting and drying herself in the grass, she heard a man come near. He was walking along barefooted with a gun in his hand. As soon as he saw the dove, he wished to kill it. He would certainly have done so, but the ant bit him in the foot just as he raised his gun to fire. He stopped to see what had bit him, and the dove immediately flew away. It was an animal much weaker and smaller than herself that had saved her life.

C

Thirty workers at a Turkmenistan television network have been fired after a cockroach（蟑螂）was seen crawling （爬行）across the newsreader’s desk during a live broadcast, it has been reported.  

       As the newsreader began the 9 pm news program, Vatan, viewers across the Central Asian country  spotted  something unusual crawling slowly across the studio table: a large brown cockroach. The program, complete with（连同） cockroach, was aired again at 11 pm that night.

       The national station was bombarded（炮轰） with calls from a large number of viewers, who said the cockroach’s guest appearance had put them off their dinner.

       It was only at 9 am the following day that horrified officials from Turkmenistan’s Ministry of Culture discovered the cockroach’s guest appearance. And they immediately informed the country’s president, Kurbanguly Berdymukhamedo.

       The president was so horrified that he fired 30 workers from the station, the Guardian reports. The fired workers included journalists, directors, camera operators, and technical staff.