【推荐1】Are things not working out in your life, despite your doing all the “right” things? Is it possible that you are holding “unforgiveness” in your heart? It is worth thinking about. What do you do when somebody hurts you? Do you want to hurt that person back, or do you hold it against them for the rest of your life? If you answered “yes” to these questions, you are like most people.     1    

People don’t forgive readily, because it is easier to hate than to forgive. Some people think to forgive is a sign of weakness, but actually to forgive takes courage and effort.

Forgiveness is a gift from a generous heart. It is not a reward for good behavior. It is not based on whether the person deserves it or whether the person has asked for it. Besides, forgiveness is an act and a long-term process.     2     It is an act because it is not just the words you say, but also your actions which show if you’ve truly forgiven someone.

    3     It takes a lot of energy to hate and to keep that hate in place. Hate puts unwanted stress on your body. It is a well-known fact, proven by numerous studies, that bitterness can actually make you sick. The moment those affected people forgive and let go of their hate, they will start to get well.

    4     I have personal experience of this. I used to be very cynical (愤世嫉俗的) about life and didn’t forgive easily. At the time, I also struggled in every area of my life. Things just didn’t seem to work out for me. It is as if everything that could go wrong, always went wrong. That was until somebody told me to take a look at my attitude. And when I forgave those who wronged me and changed my attitude, everything else changed. It didn’t happen overnight. It took a while, but I could see and feel the difference.

【推荐1】Inspired by the movement to protect the Carmanah Valley and Clayoquot Sound, I decided to devote myself to producing images for conservation full-time in 1992. Since that time my work has taken me all over the world and my photos have appeared in many major magazines. However, many of my most rewarding moments have come from working on projects in British Columbia, Canada, and sharing those images in slide show tours I have given throughout Canada, the U.S. and Europe.

The more I travel and photograph in other parts of the world, the more I have come to realize the wilderness we have in Canada is truly special and rare.

I have always felt that as a photographer my goal is to approach the natural environment with the sense of wonder and curiosity that comes so naturally to children. This, I believe, is one of the basic keys not just to producing meaningful images, but more importantly, to gaining a full appreciation and enjoyment of the natural world.

I find that not only my best images, but also my most enjoyable experiences in nature, occur when I have an open mind and follow my intuition (直觉). When I feel drawn to a certain scene, I try to make the scene simple and not include anything that is not relevant. I also try all ways to look for beautiful light. Early morning and the end of the day almost always produce light that results in more pleasing images than those taken under the strong light in the middle of a sunny day. Soft cloudy skies are wonderful for photographing all day, especially in our beautiful forests or for small subjects like wildflowers. Rain, storms, and snow also provide wonderful opportunities for new and different kinds of images.

【推荐2】All I had to do for the two dollars was clean her house for a few hours after school. It was a beautiful house, too, with a plastic-covered sofa and chairs, wall-to-wall blue-and-white carpeting, a white enamel stove, a washing machine and a dryer—things that were common in her neighborhood, absent in mine. In the middle of the war, she had butter, sugar, steaks, and seam-up-the-back stockings.

I knew how to scrub floors on my knees and how to wash clothes in our zinc tub, but I had never seen a Hoover vacuum cleaner or an iron that wasn't heated by fire.

Part of my pride in working for her was earning money I could squander (浪费)：on movies, candy, paddleballs, jacks, ice-cream cones. But a larger part of my pride was based on the fact that I gave half my wages to my mother, which meant that some of my earnings were used for real things—an insurance-policy payment or what was owed to the milkman or the iceman. The pleasure of being necessary to my parents was profound. I was not like the children in folktales: burdensome mouths to feed, nuisances to be corrected, problems so severe that they were abandoned to the forest. I had a status that doing routine chores in my house did not provide—and it earned me a slow smile, an approving nod from an adult. Confirmations that I was adultlike, not childlike.

In those days, the forties, children were not just loved or liked; they were needed. They could earn money; they could care for children younger than themselves; they could work the farm, take care of the herd, run errands（差事）, and much more. I suspect that children aren't needed in that way now. They are loved, doted on, protected, and helped. Fine, and yet...

Little by little, I got better at cleaning her house—good enough to be given more to do, much more. I was ordered to carry bookcases upstairs and, once, to move a piano from one side of a room to the other. I fell carrying the bookcases. And after pushing the piano my arms and legs hurt so badly. I wanted to refuse, or at least to complain, but I was afraid she would fire me, and I would lose the freedom the dollar gave me, as well as the standing I had at home—although both were slowly being eroded. She began to offer me her clothes, for a price. Impressed by these worn things, which looked simply gorgeous to a little girl who had only two dresses to wear to school, I bought a few. Until my mother asked me if I really wanted to work for castoffs. So I learned to say "No, thank you" to a faded sweater offered for a quarter of a week⁵s pay.

Still, I had trouble summoning （鼓起）the courage to discuss or object to the increasing demands she made. And I knew that if I told my mother how unhappy I was she would tell me to quit. Then one day, alone in the kitchen with my father, I let drop a few whines about the job. I gave him details, examples of what troubled me, yet although he listened intently, I saw no sympathy in his eyes. No "Oh, you poor little thing. " Perhaps he understood that what I wanted was a solution to the job, not an escape from it. In any case, he put down his cup of coffee and said, ⁴⁴Listen. You don't live there. You live here. With your people. Go to work. Get your money. And come on home. ”

That was what he said. This was what I heard:

Whatever the work is, do it well—not for the boss but for yourself.

You make the job; it doesn't make you.

Your real life is with us, your family.

You are not the work you do; you are the person you are.

I have worked for all sorts of people since then, geniuses and morons, quick-witted and dull, big-hearted and narrow. I've had many kinds of jobs, but since that conversation with my father I have never considered the level of labor to be the measure of myself, and I have never placed the security of a job above the value of home.

【推荐1】When I was in university, I spent a semester studying abroad at the University of Strathclyde in Glasgow, Scotland. In my brief time there, I came to love Scotland for its local culture, food and scenery.

You might think, “Scotland isn’t so different from the US; they still speak English there!” But when I stepped off the plane, I was greeted by a gruff-voiced (声音粗哑的) lady at customs. “You’ll be coming from America, then?” she asked me, and I nodded. “But all of our lads (小伙子) are leaving Glasgow for the States!” Her thick Scottish English and sense of humor were obvious right away. I was not in the US anymore, where customs agents never joke around.

As I settled in at the university, I could feel myself getting used to hearing and even speaking the Scottish English of my customs agent. In classroom discussions, people would say “em” when they couldn’t think of what to say instead of “um”. After the first few weeks, I stopped chuckling about this. Strathclyde students stayed up late into the night, running around campus and shouting, “Here weh, here weh, here weh (curse word]) go! Lat’s go, lat’s go, lat’s go (curse word) Glasgow!” Pretty soon, I was no longer saying “thanks” at the supermarket — instead, I said “cheers”.

My Scottish friends drank whiskey and ate haggis (羊杂碎布丁), a hearty dish made from sheep’s heart, liver and lungs. I drank plenty of whiskey but I’m ashamed to admit that I wasn’t brave enough to try haggis. Scottish bakeries usually sell bridies (肉馅饼), pies filled with salt and pepper, sliced onions, steak, butter and fat. Add a cup of tea – though I usually Americanized it by choosing coffee instead — and a bridie makes for a delicious breakfast.

Every time I took a train anywhere in Scotland, I’d gaze out at the rolling hills and wonder if grass was greener anywhere else in the world. Then I’d reflect that there’s a reason this country was the birthplace of golf.

【推荐2】Growing up on a farm, I learned from my parents about the large bees we called mangangava. But in college when I gave a presentation about those bees, I didn’t mention their familiar name; instead I used formal terms when describing their adaptations for pollinating (授粉). I was afraid of being judged for expressing my personal knowledge in a science class. But when the instructor pressed me to tell the class whether I’d seen the bees myself and what I called them, my views and my whole career path began to change. I realized my background was valuable, and that my calling was to help educate others like me.

My parents worked on a small farm and I often helped out when I was not in school. They had a close relationship with nature, something they learned from my grandparents and passed down to me. This was why I became interested in biology.

In college, I joined a series of labs to gain research experience, but my interest in pursuing a career as a scientist began to wane after I realized my research was not helping poor people like my parents. As a black student from a rural community, I also felt out of place in most classes. The feeling of not belonging circled in my head. I sometimes thought about giving up.

My instructor’s request that I share my knowledge of the mangangava bee changed my view. She saw that tapping into my personal experiences would help me grasp the scientific concepts. No other professor bad shown that kind of sensitivity, which helped me realize I did have a place in higher education and that I didn’t need to hide who I truly am.

I’m now a master’s student in education, working on a project that explores the connect ion between science and traditional knowledge. I don’t think I’d be here if I hadn’t crossed paths with my instructor. We ne ed more educators and scientists like her people who can serve as role models and know that the best way to nurture new scientists is to allow students to be themselves.

【推荐3】Twenty years ago, I drove a taxi for living. One night, I took a fare (出租车乘客) at 2:30 AM. When I arrived to collect, sanding on the side way was a small woman in her 80s with a big suitcase.

After I helped her into the taxi she gave me an address and asked, “Could you drive through downtown?” “It is not the shortest way,” I answered quickly. “I don’t mind,” She said, “I’m in no hurry. I’m on my way to a hospice (临终安养院).” I looked in the rear-view mirror (后视镜). Her eyes were wet. I quietly reached over and shut off he meter (计价器). “What route would you like me to take?” I asked.

For the next two hours, we drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newly married. She had me stop in front of a shabby house, where she had gone dancing as a girl. Sometimes she asked me to slow in front of a particular building and sat staring into the darkness, saying nothing. At last, she said, “I’m tired. Let’s go now.”

We drove in silence to the destination. It was a grey low building.

“How much do I owe you?” She asked, reaching into her purse. “Nothing,” I said. Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held on to me tightly and whispered a “Thank you”. I squeezed her hand and walked into the dim morning light. Behind me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life.

I didn’t pick up any more passengers, but drove aimlessly, lost in thought. What if that woman had come across an impatient driver? What if I had refused to drive through downtown? Great moments often catch us unaware, beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.