【推荐1】Standing outside the enclosure (围场) at Polar Park, somewhere behind the wire are five Norwegian grey wolves. These are just big dogs, I keep thinking to myself. And they've probably had breakfast already.

Stig Sletten, Polar Park's animal manager, says, "Once you're in with the wolves, lie down and don't stare them in the eve. Let them approach you. Don't stick your hands out. And absolutely don't stick your tongue out." That we're about to enter a cage full of "socialized" wolves is all down to Stig and his devoted team. It was Stig who founded Polar Park—way back in 1994. And it was Stig and his team who raised the park's wolves from birth.

"These wolves have all been brought up to be comfortable among humans," he explains. “Allowing them to meet visitors is actually a good way to reduce boredom and stress." Confident that we understand the strict rules of engagement, Stig opens the enclosure and we all follow him. Within seconds the pack is running toward us, eyes forward, long noses down. For an exposed human, the first approach of five grey wolves, socialised or not, is a slight unrest, heart-quickening experience.

But any sense of trepidation (惶恐) is quickly replaced by delight. The five wolves turn out to be fun and curious, as eager to check us out as we are them, Soon humans and wolves are bonding well, and I can't believe I'm touching the stomach of a fully grown female wolf.

"There are a lot of negative impressions about wolves. both in Norway and across the world," says Stig, as we sit around the table. "One of our main aims here is to educate both locals and visitors about Arctic animals and the value of preserving Norway's natural heritage. Once they've got touch with the wolves of Polar Park, many of our visitors will leave with a different view.”

That night one wolf of the pack from our morning encounter approaches our base camp and stares into the tent, but none of us are afraid.

【推荐2】I want to say thank you for being such a wonderful father. Though there have been many struggles with your various illnesses over the years, you’ve taught me more about life than any other experience could have. It’s been tough. You’ve thrown more at me than I ever thought my 21 years could handle.

Finding out that you have terminal stage IV cancer on Christmas Day, what does one even do with that as a reality? But it was from depth of desperation and fear that hope somehow burst forth. My life did not end at that moment and neither did yours.

Dad, you’ve taught me what heroes are made of: how to go in and do what you have to do, even when I was hard and scary and you know it’s going to be painful. As I sat at your feet through your hospital treatment, I saw an incredible person. I learned how precious life is. It was worth the poisonous chemicals that were pumped into his body. It was worth the horrible side effects including loss of hair, strength, and fingernails.

Dad, you’ve taught me how amazing and resistant the human body can be. Doctors have opened you up body, touched your lungs, heart, and brain...and they are still working enough to support life. But true beauty is shown on the inside. As I look at you now, Dad, I don’t see a pale and slow man before me. I see my father: the person who taught me how to ride a two-wheeler. The person who drove me to swim meets and sat there for hour upon boring hour.

That’s who I see and that is the most beautiful person I can imagine. The person who went to work every day, even though he felt physically worse than I could ever imagine.

Though it’s been hard getting through the days after learning of your diagnosis (诊断). I’m thankful that from this disease I have grown to appreciate every day of my life at such a young age.

【推荐2】I’ve been teaching college English for over 30 years. Four years ago I stopped putting grades on written work and started my journey toward what’s called “ungrading”. In continuing it throughout, I have seen it transform my teaching and my students’ learning. My only regret is that I didn’t do it sooner.

Starting in elementary school, teachers rate student work — sometimes with stars and checkmarks, sometimes with actual grades. By middle school a system of grading is usually firmly in place. In the US, the most common system is an “A” for superior work, an “F” for failure, with an “E” almost always skipped.

This system of grading is so widespread as to seem necessary, even though many researchers say it is highly inequitable (不公正的). For example, students who come into a course with little prior knowledge earn lower grades at the start, which means they get a lower final average, even if they ultimately master the material. Grades have other problems: They are demotivating, they don’t actually measure learning and they increase students’ stress.

I stopped putting grades on written work because I found when I put a grade on a piece of writing, students focused solely on that. Removing the grade forced students to pay attention to my comments.

More importantly, I was concerned with equity. For almost 10 years my studies confirmed that sometimes what I was really grading was a student’s background. Students with educational privilege came into my classroom already preparing to write A or B papers while others often didn’t have the instruction that would enable them to do so. I wanted to change that.

So freed from the heavy burden of determining a grade, I wrote meaningful comments, suggested improvements, and entered into a dialogue with my students that felt more productive — that felt more like an extension of the classroom.

Now, I see students from all backgrounds benefit from my coaching, but perhaps even more from the freedom to decide for themselves what really matters in their reading and writing. And I benefit too, from the opportunity to help them learn and grow without the control of the grade.

【推荐3】I recently attended a wedding in a rural area in north Italy, and guests were provided with a car and driver for the 90-minute journey into the hills. That was exciting: A private car! I could pretend I was rich! Since I’m not, though, I had no idea how much this trip actually cost. As a result, after our driver picked us back up at midnight, I secretly worried all the way home about tipping him.

I fished around nervously in my purse and realized that all I had was a $100 note, which I was keeping for an emergency. I had nothing smaller. And I had nothing else to offer but two chocolates from the wedding. So, I could tip the driver that $100 note or two chocolates. In the end, I chose the money.

The whole matter of tipping has long been a source of awkward interactions — and, for some travellers, mild anxiety — throughout the world. Tipping customs vary wildly from country to country. A friend in Rome tells me that Italians get hurt by big tips. “Leaving a big tip is considered impolite,” she adds, “I’ve had Italian friends make me take money back.”

It reminded me of my 100-dollar tip. What if I had annoyed the driver? So I decided to call the car company and ask them to pass on a message to the driver apologizing for the improper tip and explaining the situation.

To my surprise, the car company responded that the driver had actually called to express his gratitude for the unexpected big tip. He had apparently been having a tough week and the money had come at just the right time.

I was astonished. All my worry had been for nothing. What started out as a source of anxiety ended up being a heartwarming experience. I learned that sometimes it’s better to go with your feelings and be generous, even if it means taking a risk.