【推荐1】I decided at 10 that I was going to be a teacher because I had a burning desire for superpowers. As a boy, I could clearly see some of my teachers had extraordinary powers.

There was an English teacher in fifth grade who could magically transport us to different worlds every day by telling us stories and reading to us from books we would never pick up. This was our secret and fun time because fifth graders were considered too old to have stories read out to them.

It was even shocking that my teacher could see the invisible. I was one of those who lacked insight. Yet my teacher would notice me and the unspoken message in her eyes suggested that she could see me through. She had another superpower and even after four decades, I could still vividly remember her lessons about the great masters of art and great geographers, expanding our horizons. She did this even though her major was not art, nor geography. Her lessons went beyond the textbook. I knew I wanted to be one of those all-seeing ones with superpowers that made children feel safe and valued.

I know being a teacher isn’t the easiest or the most financially rewarding of jobs. And there are occupational risks--your knees can become worn out from years of carrying piles of notebooks up and down the school staircase, and your voice can give in from too much talking. But despite all that, there are those choosing this cause. To them, teaching is not just a job--it is a science, an art and a craft, and it demands emotional labour and investment.

All my life, for three decades now, I’ve gone to work early each day with a spring in my step. Occasionally, I meet my former students. Their obvious love for me and fond memories of our time together are my rewards. When I meet others who are thirsty for superpowers, like the brand new teacher struggling to perfect her skills with a brave face on, or the one in a remote, rural school travelling 70 kilometers each day just for his pupils, I feel proud to belong to the same group.

【推荐2】She turned up at the doorstep of my house in Cornwall. No way could I have sent her away. No way, not me anyway. Maybe someone had kicked her out of their car the night before. “We're moving house.” “No space for her any more with the baby coming.” “We never really wanted her, but what could we have done? She was a present.” People find all sorts of excuses for abandoning an animal. And she was one of the most beautiful dogs I had ever seen.

I called her Goldie. If I had known what was going to happen, I would have given her a more creative name. She was so unsettled during those first few days. She hardly ate anything and had such an air of sadness about her. There was nothing I could do to make her happy, it seemed. Heaven knows what had happened to her at her previous owner’s. But eventually at the end of the first week she calmed down. Always by my side, whether we were out on one of our long walks or sitting by the fire.

That’s why it was such a shock when she pulled away from me one day when we were out for a walk. We were a long way from home, when she started barking and getting very restless. Eventually I couldn’t hold her any longer and she raced off down the road towards a farmhouse in the distance as fast as she could.

By the time I reached the farm I was very tired and upset with Goldie. But when I saw her licking （舔) the four puppies I started to feel sympathy towards them. “We didn't know what had happened to her,” said the woman at the door. “I took her for a walk one day, soon after the puppies were born, and she just disappeared.” “She must have tried to come back to them and got lost,” added a boy from behind her.

I must admit I do miss Goldie, but I’ve got Nugget now, and she looks just like her mother. And I’ve learnt a good lesson: not to judge people.