2 . About five weeks ago, I noticed the skin of our pet lizard was growing dusty. It worried me. I reported the strange surface on the skin of the lizard to my husband and children the next morning. Seconds later, our lizard emerged from its tank with its old skin flowing behind it.

I didn't think about it much until a morning last week when I knocked my favorite teapot off the table. It burst into hundreds of pieces. As I swept up the mess, I wondered why we had been breaking so many things over the months.

The destruction started three months ago. It was my husband's birthday. He had just lost his job. The uncertainty was starting to wear on us, so I wanted to do something special.

“Let's make a cake for Dad!” I cried.

My kids screamed with joy. We baked, iced and sprinkled for most of the day. Candles on the cake! Balloons on the walls! Flowers on the table!

Two hours before my husband came back home from another job interview, my daughter climbed up to grab a glass vase from a high shelf. It fell and crashed beside the cake. Tiny pieces of glass were everywhere. She sobbed loudly as I threw the cake away. My husband had banana pudding for his birthday.

Three days ago, the light in our living room suddenly went out. After several frustrating hours of unsuccessful attempts to fix it, my husband suggested watching the Michael Jordan documentary series The Last Dance.

The poignancy of Jordan retiring from his beloved basketball to play baseball and what had pushed him to make such a tough decision took me by surprise. As I watched him take off his basketball uniform and replace it with a baseball uniform, I saw him leaving behind the layer that no longer served him, just as our lizard had. Neither of them chose the moment that had transformed them. But they had to live with who they were after everything was different. Just like us. I realized that we have to learn to leave the past behind.

Humans do not shed skin as easily as other animals. The beginning of change is upsetting. The process is tiring. Damage changes us before we are ready. I see our lizard, raw and nearly new.

Jordan said that no matter how it ends, it starts with hope. With our tender, hopeful skin, that is where we begin.

3 . I was in the middle of the Amazon (亚马逊) with my wife, who was there as a medical researcher. We flew on a small plane to a faraway village. We did not speak the local language, did not know the customs, and more often than not, did not entirely recognize the food. We could not have felt more foreign.

We were raised on books and computers, highways and cell phones, but now we were living in a village without running water or electricity It was easy for us to go to sleep at the end of the day feeling a little misunderstood.

Then one perfect Amazonian evening, with monkeys calling from beyond the village green, we played soccer. I am not good at soccer, but that evening it was wonderful. Everyone knew the rules. We all spoke the same language of passes and shots. We understood one another perfectly. As darkness came over the field and the match ended, the goal keeper, Juan, walked over to me and said in a matter-of-fact way, “In your home, do you have a moon too?” I was surprised.

After I explained to Juan that yes, we did have a moon and yes, it was very similar to his, I felt a sort of awe (敬畏) at the possibilities that existed in his world. In Juan’s world, each village could have its own moon. In Juan’s world, the unknown and undiscovered was vast and marvelous. Anything was possible.

In our society, we know that Earth has only one moon. We have looked at our planet from every angle and found all of the wildest things left to find. I can, from my computer at home, pull up satellite images of Juan’s village. There are no more continents and no more moons to search for, little left to discover. At least it seems that way.

Yet, as I thought about Juan’s question, I was not sure how much more we could really rule out. I am, in part, an ant biologist, so my thoughts turned to what we know about insect life and I knew that much in the world of insects remains unknown. How much, though? How ignorant   (无知的) are we? The question of what we know and do not know constantly bothered me.

I began collecting newspaper articles about new species, new monkey, new spider…, and on and on they appear. My drawer quickly filled. I began a second drawer for more general discoveries: new cave system discovered with dozens of nameless species, four hundred species of bacteria found in the human stomach. The second drawer began to fill and as it did I wondered whether there were bigger discoveries out there, not just species, but life that depends on things thought to be useless, life even without DNA. I started a third drawer for these big discoveries. It fills more slowly, but all the same, it fills.

In looking into the stories of biological discovery, I also began to find something else, a collection of scientists, usually brilliant occasionally half-mad, who made the discoveries. Those scientists very often see the same things that other scientists see, but they pay more attention to them, and they focus on them to the point of exhaustion (穷尽), and at the risk of the ridicule of their peers. In looking for the stories of discovery, I found the stories of these people and how their lives changed our view of the world.

We are repeatedly willing to imagine we have found most of what is left to discover. We used to think that insects were the smallest organisms (生物), and that nothing lived deeper than six hundred meters. Yet, when something new turns up, more often than not, we do not even know its name.

I’ve always been creative since I was a little girl. My childhood was filled with arts, crafts (手工) and music, and every day was an exciting adventure of creation.

Somewhere along the way, however, I lost touch with my creative self. At 21, I landed a job at a big insurance company out of my business degree. I would go to the office, sit at my desk and repeat the same work five days a week 9 to 5. The days were long and tedious. Working this way for one year was painful enough, let alone a lifetime. Before long I decided to make a change.

One thing I had developed an interest in was sewing, so I took a sewing course at a community college. It was only a five-week course but it awakened my interest and got my confidence up.

As I dreamt bigger, I began looking into college courses for Fashion Design and three months later I signed up for a part-time design course. I attended classes two nights a week. Although exhausting, it gave me energy, enthusiasm and happiness.

As it became clearer that fashion was what I wanted to do full time, the reality of my day-to-day work at the insurance company became harder. I felt bored. No energy, no motivation and zero fulfilment (满足感).

I knew I needed to make a bigger change. After struggling for quite a while, I made a difficult decision—leaving my job and studying my design course full time. Two years later I got my diploma.

The last few years have been exciting because I’ve been following my heart to do what I love. Today I am living a creative life as the designer of my own fashion brand.

Sometimes it’s hard to make a change, but I’m so glad I set the wheels of change in motion with that very small first step because it has led me to where I am today.

5 . “They tell me that you’d like to make a statue(塑像) of me-is that correct, Miss Vinnie Ream?”

The deep, gentle voice helped calm the nervous girl. Asking a favor of the President of the United States was no casual matter, especially for a seventeen-year-old girl.

“Yes, sir,” she replied, her dark eyes meeting his. “I wouldn’t have duo ask you, but my teacher, Mr. Mills, says I am ready. I plan to make it in an admirable manner. “

President Lincoln smiled. “Painters, sculptors-they’ve all tried to make the best of this ordinary face, but I’m afraid there’s not much hope. What did you have in mind, Miss Ream? A bust(半身像)?”

Before Vinnie could say yes, the President hurried on, a shade of apology in his voice.

“Of course-I shouldn’t have asked. A full-length pose would be much too big a project for a young woman your size. “

Vinnie’s face turned red. She realized she looked like a child, with her tiny figure. “Small does not mean weak, sir,” she defended herself. “I was born in the country of Wisconsin. I’ve driven teams of horses and carried water. Making a full-length clay(粘土) figure would not exhaust my strength-and that is what I intend to do!”

The President’s eyes, brightened at her show of spirit. “Sorry, madam, I have underestimated you as I didn’t know your background.”

But his smile faded as he rubbed his beard with bony fingers, in thought. “Miss Ream,” he sighed, “I’d like to let you do it, but as you know, we are in the middle of a war. How could I possibly take the time to pose for a sculpture now? I hardly have a minute to myself.”

Vinnie glanced around and noted the size of his office. “I work quickly,” she said. Her voice was soft but confident as she pointed to the corner near the windows. “If I were to bring my clay here and work for three hours every afternoon, I could complete most of the project while you are at your desk.”

The President seemed to consider her idea seriously. He got up and shook Vinnie’s hand warmly, “I’ve heard that you are a talented young woman, and I have found you charming and intelligent as well. I cannot make my decision immediately, but you will hear from me soon.”

The very next day, Vinnie received an invitation from the President.

9 . One of the most stressful days of Susan McFrederick’s life was watching her son get wheeled away for surgery hours after he was born in 2011.

But after the operation, Susan burst into tears for a different reason: across the cut on their newborn sons back was a sweet winter scene, hand-drawn on his bandages（绷带）.

“There were rolling hills of snow, a pine tree and a snowman with a hat and broom, she recalled. It was extremely touching and comforting to know that somebody had taken the time to do that for my family. It was a moment I'll never forget.”

Susan soon learned the artist was her sons surgeon, Robert Parry, who discovered another way to use his hands in the mid-1980 s during his internship（实习期）at children's medical center. where he saw one of his colleagues cut out heart and shark shapes to decorate children’s bandages.

“My first reaction was, 'What is he doing? Hey, that’s kind of neat,’ ” Parry recalled. “I especially liked the reactions of the parents and the patients when they saw his artwork. The smiles took everyone's attention from the surgery. Then I decided to follow suit.”

Parry quickly graduated from his early hearts and sharks, and started to surprise families with drawings that captured young patients' personalities. From Snoopy to Spider-Man and bears to butterflies, there isn’t much he hasn’t drawn. Most kids want superheroes sports team logos or princesses, while babies often receive scenes with flowers trees and sea creatures During the last 30 years, Parry estimates he has left examples of his handiwork over the stitches（伤口缝线） of more than 10, 000 children.

“During a time of stress for families, it's nice to be able to help them smile and laugh," Parry said. This is something positive that I can do for them, which is what I like most about it.”

For Parry, the reward is knowing he hopefully made a difference in a child’s life, and except for his drawings on bandages, they can go on and live their lives and never know I was in it.” he said.

He's not ready to retire, but he's found a new hobby to keep his hands skillful in the years to come.

“I've taken up knitting（编织）,” Parry said. “Hats, sweaters, gloves---I enjoy it all. But mostly, I enjoy giving everything away.”

As any younger brother will tell you, having a big brother involves a lot of walking in someone else’s shadow, especially when you have a brother who is a typical example of “cool”. For years I wanted to do everything my elder brother Tyson did, but no matter how hard I tried, I was always the neglected (被忽略的) one. My legs just weren’t made to run like his. I could never play football or basketball well.

I probably would have continued trying to keep up with him for the rest of my high school career, but when my family moved, everything changed. Tyson left for college, so I had to start at a new school all by myself. This new start gave me an opportunity to redefine myself and discover an entirely new version of “cool”.

I don’t know what made me decide to try some new activities at the new school, but one day I chanced to show up for an after-school meeting of the Science Olympiad team. I had always been fascinated with chemistry, biology, and math, but since those interests hadn’t fit Tyson’s definition of “cool”, I had never pursued them. On this day, for some reason, I did.

As we organized teams, prepared resources and practiced answering questions, I felt more connected than I ever had to any sports team. I didn’t feel as though I needed to keep up with anybody else; I was finally with peers who understood me. It was so good to feel accepted for what I’m good at. For the first time in my life, I actually felt cool. Now I know who I am! I’m Tyson’s little brother, but that’s only part of my identity. I’m a cool guy in my own way, too. I’m relieved to know that “cool” has a much broader definition than what I used to think.