【推荐3】“Should I go? I do have a lot of work to do.” The question came from my daughter, Tracy, a college senior, who was debating whether or not to go with her roommates on a Saturday to drive to the beach and enjoy some unseasonably warm March weather.

On the one hand, sand, sunshine, and perhaps some fried food were prizes she deserved after a hard-won year of college life; on the other hand, her thesis (论文) conclusion wasn’t going to write itself. As a rather type A student, Tracy was unsure if she should go, and had asked my opinion.

As I read her text, I remembered my own college road trips in the 80s. At that time, four of us theater students, anxious and disappointed about the posting of a cast list, had driven out to the countryside through apple orchards (果园). We stopped at the side of the road to climb over a stone wall to grab some apples from a tree, taking off laughing, and ending the trip with ice-creams. I still remember sitting at a picnic table with the kind of laughter that you hope will never end.

I texted my daughter back, “Take the day off and go to the beach. The thesis can wait.” Actually, I wanted to text her much more than that. I wanted to tell her that college is for so many things—academic and personal growth and challenges, all-night study sessions, paper deadlines, and office hours. But it’s also for road trips with your roommates and a chance to extricate every bit of stress and responsibility for a few hours.

College is for the memories that you don’t think are anything special right now. But someday, one of you will say, “Hey, remember that time on the beach?” And those precious memories are worth more than any thesis conclusion ever could be.

【推荐1】On my 70^th birthday, in September 2019, I decided to participate in 70 different sports before I turned 71. The motivation? Simply to have some fun. Athleticism, after all, does not end at some arbitrary (任意的) age.

Shortly after my 70^th birthday, I took a crack at paddle-boarding. Family members were greatly entertained, watching me first try to get on the board, then stand on the board and finally fall into the water before trying all over again. Lesson learnt: Perseverance pays off. Eventually I stood, I balanced and I paddled. An early success.

Winter sports brought their own challenges. A pick-up game of hockey resulted in the odd collision. The quality of play was hardly inspirational, but it was certainly fun. Then came the attempt to teach myself the basics of figure skating. It left me falling flat on the ice, my elbow and knee aching. I refused to give up. If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again, which I called self-discipline.

However, the outbreak of COVID-19 shut down most of my city, which became a setback to my 70-at-70 goal. By then I had tried nearly 35 sports. Individual sports would have to be the order of the day: Running, jumping, walking. For track, I built my own high jump and hurdles. Athletics does not have to be complicated.

There were some health advantages, too, to all the exercise I was getting. Each activity triggered endorphins that brought an immediate high. Over the longer term came the realisation that dreams are important, regardless of how far-fetched or unrealistic they might seem. As youngsters we dream of playing in the big leagues or participating in the Olympics. As we age, our hopes and dreams change, but one should never let them disappear. We need something to look forward to; what’s better than to wake up each morning knowing there is a game to play?

【推荐1】Born in a village in Gansu province, Zhu Yanjun had never left his hometown in his early age. Some of his friends dropped out of middle school and worked in the city. Hearing about their exciting lives there, he did not go to high school and instead became a migrant worker.

For 30 years, Zhu had been a migrant worker in different cities. Although he only had a middle school education, his passion for reading never faded. The passion was inspired by his Chinese teacher in middle school who has published many articles in magazines.

“I also wanted to publish stories”, he said to himself. So he started to read. No matter where he worked, he went to local bookstores regularly with a notebook in order to write down wonderful paragraphs and memorize them. In this way, he got to know the history, traditions and landscapes of different places. Over the years, he has read thousands of poems and can recite over 1000 of them. When reading poems from the Tang Dynasty and poems written by Chairman Mao Zedong, he appreciated the beauty of their language. He said, “One can get inspired to have a rich spiritual world and powerful mind from reading.” Whenever he faces any challenge, he thinks of Chairman Mao’s words: “Nothing in the world is difficult for one who sets his mind to it.”

This year, he finally appeared in the Chinese Poetry Competition hosted by CCTV and won the second place, impressing the audience deeply with his good performance. The local government decided to hire him as a staff member at the cultural center. Although his income is less than before, this job gives him more time to explore poems. Besides, he has more opportunities to share his study experience with others and inspire more people around to explore the beauty of reading.

【推荐3】Margie even wrote about it that night in her diary. On the page headed May 17, 2157, she wrote, “today, Tommy found a real book!”

It was a very old book. Margie’s grandfather once said that when he was a little boy his grandfather told him that there was a time when all stories were printed on paper.

They turned the pages, which were yellow and crinkly, and it was awfully funny to read words that stood still instead of moving the way they were supposed to-on a screen, you know. And then, when they turned back to the page before, it had the same words on it that it had had when they read it the first time.

“Gee,” said Tommy, “what a waste. When you’re through with the book, you just throw it away, I guess. Our television screen must have had a million books on it and it’s good for plenty more. I wouldn’t throw it away. ”

“What’s it about?” asked Margie.

“School,” said Tommy.

“School? I hate school. ” Margie always hated school, but now she hated it more than ever. The part she hated most was the slot where she had to put homework and test papers. She always had to write them out in a punch code they made her learn when she was six years old, and the mechanical teacher calculated the mark in no time. The mechanical teacher had been giving her test after test in geography and she had been doing worse and worse until her mother had shaken her head sorrowfully and sent for the County Inspector.

The inspector was a round little man with a red face and a whole box of tools with dials and wires. After an hour or so, he finished and said to Margie’s mother, “It’s not the little girl’s fault, Mrs. Jones. I think the geography sector was geared a little too quick. Those things happen sometimes. I’ve slowed it up to an average ten-year level. ”

There it was again, large and black and ugly, with a big screen on which all the lessons were shown and the questions were asked.