1 . In 1959, Handler changed how toy dolls were made when she introduced “Barbie” to the world. With her mature figure, Barbie was one of the first “grown-up” dolls to hit the retail market.

Handler wanted to create a toy that was different from the baby dolls that dominated little girls’ toy boxes. She wanted a doll that girls could project their future dreams upon and allowed for limitless clothing and career choices. Inspired by paper dolls of the time, Handler, to much disagreement, made sure Barbie had the body of a grown woman.

“My own philosophy of Barbie,” Handler wrote in her autobiography, “was that through the doll, the little girl could be anything she wanted to be. Barbie always represented the fact that a woman had choices.”

There’s even a Barbie for cancer patients — Brave Barbie — a partnership between Mattel and CureSearch that sends a bald (光头的) Barbie to families affected by cancer. “Gifting my daughter a Barbie who suffered from cancer was tremendous,” Michelle, a cancer survivor said, “We would play with that Barbie together and I’d heartbreakingly watch her pretend to take the doll to the hospital for chemo (化疗), or place its long wig on top of its head and tell the doll ‘It’s time to be beautiful again.’”

Bald Barbie was super brave and went on awesome adventures after chemo. Sometimes she felt sick and needed to sleep, but would feel much better after a rest. Bald Barbie always beat the cancer and went on to live a long and happy life with her family. That Barbie became so much more than a plastic doll — she was a means of communication and a coping mechanism during an extremely distressing time for little families.

4 . I joined the coast guard because I wanted to help people. Hovercraft (气垫船) are rare and special. They’ve been discontinued in most commercial operation, because they are so expensive to make, but when it comes to search and rescue, they’re priceless.

From far away, a hovercraft looks like a normal boat. But if you look under its skirt, the craft is not touching the water — it floats on a cushion of air. That cushion allows us to travel over everything from water to muddy land — and even break through ice. We do all of that as a 70-tonne machine, going a maximum of nearly 120 kilometers per hour. These features allow us to rescue a large number of people quickly get onto land, and get someone into an ambulance far easier than with any other device I can think of.

The advantages of hovercraft can also make them difficult to handle. We’ve got a massive vehicle moving fast, sometimes in a thick fog bank up a narrow river. During assignments on other coast guard ships, I had 20 minutes to make alterations to avoid a crash. In a hovercraft, I have 10 seconds. You have to have enough situational awareness to make the right decision every time.

People call us for all sorts of problems: missing divers, on-board fires, or even when they’ve run out of fuel or had a mechanical breakdown. A container ship could burst into flames. We have a strong network here at the base to help everyone through difficult situations like that. Thankfully, we have captains who train us in a safe environment, but you don’t ever get fully comfortable. Anything can throw the hovercraft off — maybe your lift settings are off a little, or the wind blows with a bit of extra weight. After several years operating a hovercraft, I’m still learning. Every one of the captains here agrees: you can drive this thing for 20 years and still be surprised.

I was eight years old and wasn’t aware of all the arrangements being made for our journey as a family to London in 1950. My mother was in great pain and wished to visit specialists in London. My father reluctantly had to sell our property in Queensland. The day before we boarded the ship, Father unwillingly said goodbye to his five-year-old cattle dog, Spider, who was loved by us all. Father’s friend Sandy was to be his guardian while we were overseas, as he had been getting to know Spider for many weeks.

Six weeks later, an airletter arrived from Sandy, giving my father the news that Spider had run away just two weeks after we had sailed. Sandy had advertised constantly on ABC and other regional newspapers. Despite many “sightings”, the dog was never found. It seems Spider just kept running and searching for us. As he was cattle dog, my father thought he would shoe or dingo-trapped, because of his appearance. But our family thought that Father held a secrets hope that Spider was still alive.

We sailed back to Australia two years later and re-established our home. My father immediately began his own search for Spider. One cold winter’s Saturday morning eight months after our return, my father had a call from an elderly lady living on her own on the outskirts of the town. As she told my father on the telephone, it was “just glimpses of a dingo-type dog in the shadows” of her disused tennis court. That was enough for my father to interrupt my homework.   

We set off in his blue and black Jensen car which he had brought back from England. It was hardly the right vehicle for the rough roads we travelled that day. Five and a half hours later, we found the run-down old property. Sadly, she told my father that the “dingo dog” hadn’t been around for a few days. My father had a strange look in his eye. He put two fingers to his lips and did his special whistle for Spider.

6 . Getting accepted to Harvard Law School was a feeling that Rehan Staton will never forget.

Staton had a stable life growing up until his mother_______the family moved out of the county when he was 8. His father then worked multiple jobs to _______. Rehan and his older brother, but the family struggled _______ they often had no food or electrictity.

Rehan's academics significantly suffered. As his grade _______ , he channeled his energy into sports. He was _______ in boxing and won national and international competitions which he hoped would become his way out of _______. However, his dream were _______ when he suffered a shoulder injury in the 12^th grade.

Rehan's poor grades as a senior resulted in him being _______ by every college he applied to. So he took a job at Bates Trucking and Trash,_______ rubbish and cleaning dustbins.

Rather than add to his despair, the job marked a ________ point. His co-workers found his ________ , uplifted him and urged him to go back to school. Finally he was ________ to Bowie State University. By the end of his second year, Rehan decided he wanted to go to ________ school.

Rehan was ________ for the support he got from his co-workers. “It was the first time in my life that a group of individual had really just ________ me, and told me I was intelligent."

7 . My mother-in-law asked me to climb a mountain in her rural village. We went through tall and weedy expanse of grass, pulling ourselves up with the help of smooth bamboo trees. Weathered gray rocks dotted tracks only visible to an experienced hiker. The view we were rewarded with halfway up the mountain, fixing our eyes upon the colorful pieces of fields and whitewashed homes set against the deep green hills and a sky so blue that it looked digitally polished, was a side benefit of being there.

Our eyes were mostly on the wild eatable plants that grew on the mountainside. We first came upon the wild mountain bamboo, a plant that was the main part in my mother-in-law’s salted bamboo shoots that, once preserved, could be used all year long in cooking. Along the way, we also encountered another precious wild food — fiddlehead ferns (蕨菜). Those delicate leaves, when stir-fired, were a tasty treat. Once I had purchased fiddleheads at a market in the US. Yet there we were, picking this prized vegetable on our own, with only our labor as the cost.

What we had collected that afternoon looked the same as any other wild mountain bamboo shoots and fiddlehead ferns I had seen before in my mother-in-law’s kitchen. And yet, they felt different to me because I had used my own hands to help pick them and carry them back down the mountain. Spending time and energy gathering these wild plants gave me a deeper appreciation for the food that ends up on the dinner table.

“Many generations have kept this natural lifestyle. We depend on the mountains for our life,” my mother-in-law says. Those mountains and rivers supporting her life aren’t some abstract concept. They are right there, outside her door and within her rural village. Once I saw them through her angle that afternoon, I realized they are closer to me than I ever imagined.

8 . Once upon a time, my father and I got lost in a forest in France. I must have been about twelve or thirteen. Anyway, it was before the time when most people ______ a mobile phone. It was in the Loire Valley. About half an hour, my dad ______ the truth. “Oh, it seems that we’re lost.” We walked around and around in circles, trying to find the path, ______ with no luck. I could tell my dad was starting to ______, even as he was trying to hide it from me. We had been in the forest for hours then and both knew my mom would be in a state of absolute ______. At school, I had just been told the story of the hikers who had died in the wilderness and I found it easy to ______ that would be our fate too. “If we keep going in a ______ line we’ll get out of here,” my dad said.

And he was right. ______ we heard the sound of cars and ______ a main road. We were eleven miles from the village where we had ______, but at least we had signposts. And I often think of that strategy, when I am totally ______ — literally or metaphorically (比喻). I thought of it when I was in the middle of a ______, when my heart beat rapidly with ______ and didn’t know how I could carry on living. Walking one foot in front of the other, in the same ______, will always get you further than running around in circles. It’s about the ______ to keep walking forward.

9 . Ken Campbell had last attempted running at high school. When his wife, Susan, injured her foot, she needed support to rejoin her running group, so Campbell went along to keep her company and share in the recovery. “We were just walking at the beginning,” he says. “And I was heavy. I weighed over 90kg.” But as the weeks and months passed, the weight fell away, Susan recovered — and Campbell’s abilities grew. At the age of 63, he ran 50km, and at 70, he ran through the night to complete a 100km ultramarathon.

So how does someone with no sporting precedent (先例) become an ultradistance runner in his 60s and 70s? Susan had run marathons before her injury. But for Campbell, the turning point came when Susan’s Fleet Feet running group took to the trails in the Sierra Nevada foothills near their home in Citrus Heights, California.

Campbell went out to visit Susan’s group, and “the trails were a terrible mess. It had been raining. And I was running in my road shoes. Slipping and sliding and falling. And I was struggling. I thought, well, I like this a lot but I could do better.”

What he liked above all was the feeling of “being enveloped by the trail, being embraced by the closeness of the vegetation and the nearness of the river. I was walking where Native people had walked for thousands of years and where miners had walked on their way to gold.”

Running the 100km ultramarathon took Campbell 16 hours. When Campbell crossed the finish line at 3am, Susan handed him a 100km sticker to display on the back of his truck. He already had a 50km one on there. “It is a public proclamation (声明) that you are part of this community,” he says. “Wherever we park, I see a line of vehicles with their various stickers and I feel that we area tribe (部落).”

Campbell suffered arthritis before he started running, and is “a candidate for knee replacement”. But for now, he is holding off on surgery. It could put an end to the running — but the “sense of wellbeing and accomplishment will carry me on forever”, he says. “If I can’t run, I will walk.”