【推荐1】If you’re looking for some festive atmosphere, here’s part of the Florida festival calendar.

Kumquat Festival, Dade City, Jan. 27

The downtown in Dade City fills with as many as 35, 000 people for this free event celebrating the tangy little fruit grown locally. Along with dozens of booths and live entertainment, a highlight is enjoying kumquat treats, from kumquat pie, kumquat cookies to kumquat salad.

Sunnyland Boat Festival, Tavares, Mar. 22-24

This antique and classic boat festival is one of the largest classic wood boat shows in the country with as many as 250 to 300 restored ancient boats on display in the water and along one third of a mile of Lake Dora shoreline at Wooton Park in Tavares, which is really a feast to the eye for free.

Siesta Key Sunsculpting Festival, Sarasota, Nov. 10-13

Two dozen professional artists compete in creating sculptures on the gorgeous Siesta Key beach. Those who buy tickets can watch the sculptures take shape, view them under colored lights at night, see demonstrations and take lessons. The party atmosphere includes a tent with ful bar (no ticket required) and a vendor(小贩) village.

Art Basel Miami Beach, Miami Beach, Dec. 8-10

Art Basel, an international art fair, draws top galleries from around the world plus the rich and celebrities to South Florida. A far cry from the street art festivals all over Florida, this is an event that is not cheap-Tickets start at $65. Over the years, however, a variety of satellite events have developed, creating art-related events for regular folks, including Miami Art Week.

【推荐3】A big company wanted a manager, so John went there. In the interview the director asked him a question. “Who paid for your school fees(学费)?” “My mother paid for them by washing clothes.” Hearing this, the director asked John to show his hands. John showed a pair of hands that were smooth and perfect. The director said, “When you go back today, go and clean your mother’s hands, and then see me tomorrow morning.”

When John went back, he happily asked his mother to let him clean her hands. However, his tears fell as he cleaned his mother`s hands. It was the first time he noticed that there were so many bruises (伤痕) in his mother’s hands. After finishing the cleaning of his mother’s hands, John quietly washed all the remaining clothes for his mother.

The next morning, John went to the director’s office. The director noticed the tears in John’s eyes and asked, “Please tell me your feelings.” John said, “First, I know what appreciation (感激) is now. Without my mother, I would not be successful. Second, by helping my mother, now I realize how difficult it is to get something done. Third, I have realized the importance of family relationship.”

The director said, “This is what I am looking for to be my manager. You can get the job.”

【推荐1】“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never harm me,” is an old saying my fourth-grade teacher once told me. I grew up thinking as long as people didn’t physically hurt each other, hurtful words were to be tolerated, but I changed my mind after reading Linda O’Connell’s story, Two Little Words with a Big Impact. She discussed two words: “and” and “but”, and explained how “but” can be one of the most destructive words.

Then I realized I had been hurt by the word “but”, and that I had wounded others, too, by using the word thoughtlessly. For example, when I was a teacher and edited my students’ stories, I would always say their content was good, but then I would add comments such as “but you need to make your characters more realistic.” I could have said, “Your content is good and making your characters more believable will make it even better.

In setting up guidelines for commenting on writers, I realize we need to praise each other, make helpful remarks, and then praise each other again, without using the word” but. “I remember a college professor who said,” There is no such thing as constructive criticism. Criticism is criticism. She has now passed on, but her words remain with me always.

My fourth-grade teacher’s quote was aimed at what she thought was harmless playground teasing, but even teasing hurts. Today, we can read sad news related to many stories where people have been terribly hurt by ugly words and suffered a lot. Now I realize the importance of thinking before speaking, even to avoid seemingly unimportant words like “but.” Sticks and stones break our bones, but thoughtless words also do harm. They can leave marks for a lifetime.

【推荐2】The turning point of my life was my decision to give up a promising business career and study music. My parents, although sympathetic, and sharing my love of music, disapproved of it as a profession. This was understandable in view of the family background. My grandfather had taught music for nearly forty years. Though much beloved and respected in the community, he earned barely enough to provide for his large family. As a consequence of this example in the family, the very mention of music as a profession carried with it a picture of a risky existence with uncertain financial rewards. My parents insisted on college instead of a music school, and to college I went — quite happily, as I remember, for although I loved my violin and spent most of my spare time practicing, I had many other interests.

Before my graduation from college, the family met with severe financial reverses and I felt it my duty to leave college and take a job. Thus was I launched upon a business career — which I always think of as the wasted years. Now I do not for a moment mean to disparage (贬低) business. My whole point is that it was not for me. I went into it for money, and aside from the satisfaction of being able to help the family, money is all I got out of it. It was not enough. I felt that life was passing me by.

I continued to make money, and finally, bit by bit, accumulated enough to enable me to go abroad to study music. I resigned from my position and, feeling like a man released from jail, sailed for Europe. I stayed four years, worked harder than I had ever dreamed of working before and enjoyed every minute of it. “Enjoyed” is too mild a word. I walked on air. I really lived. I was a free man and I was doing what I loved to do and what I was meant to do.

If I had stayed in business, I might be a comparatively wealthy man today, but I do not believe I would have made a success of living. I would have given up all those inner satisfactions that money can never buy.

【推荐3】It was 1994, and I was a 19-year-old student in my third year at Western University in London, Ontario. I had signed up for a course in the Department of English taught by one Donald S. Hair.

A few weeks into the class, the professor administered our first test. I didn't think I had anything to worry about—until he handed my exam back the following week with a 67 written on it in red ink.

Sixty-seven! I'd never received such a low mark. I was dependent on a scholarship, and any grade below 80 put my future in jeopardy. My seatmate's annoyed expression suggested her mark had been painful too. We angered silently: Professor Hair was an old weirdo (怪人)! How dare he ruin our GPAs? What was the old boy's problem, anyway?

But the real problem was this: He was right. I knew it as soon as I'd cooled off and taken the time to digest his comments. My writing was careless, my understanding of key concepts shallow. Like many of my partners, I was used to earning top grades. Now, for the first time, a teacher had introduced an uncomfortable question. Were we actually “earning” them?

The next day, I went to his office. With burning cheeks, I told him I knew I’d butchered the exam. To my childish surprise, he wasn’t a “weirdo” in the least. He was funny, warm and uncommonly patient. He assured me if I worked hard, I'd achieve my potential in the course, and he’d be available to help me.

I went away, read and read some more. The more I read, the more interesting his classes became, and soon, his complex, absorbing lectures were the highlight of my week. I spared no effort in that course. The grade I earned in his class was the lowest I’d received that year. But I had earned that grade. Nearly 30 years later, I'm still proud of that.