John was part of my childhood growing up in the 1970s and a link to sunny, fun-filled days spent on the beach at Bangor in Northern Ireland where we went for our summer holidays. To many, he was a mystery. Every afternoon John would wander to the end of the pier (码头) where he fed the seagulls and delighted in the sound of their excited cries as they flew around his head.

    Often I asked my family questions regarding John. Eventually I gave up as no one could tell me anything about him. As I grew up, my visits to the beach became less frequent, and my memories of John buried in a child's imagination.

    Last year memories came flooding back as I walked along the coastline, where I noticed a lady feeding the seagulls on the pier, and I decided to introduce myself. Then I came to know that the lady was John's daughter, and after John left this world she carried out the ritual (惯例), which had held such importance for her father.

    In some strange way I felt we shared a bond, each needing to remember. In return, Lucy told me of John's life, his days in the British Navy (海军) during World War I and how he almost lost hope when his ship was attacked by a German U-boat in the North Sea and he found himself in a lifeboat with five others.

    Close to death, he thought he heard the sound of wings. He put up his hands, only to catch a seagull that had landed on the side of the boat. The seagull saved the lives of the six men as it was used to catch fish, which kept them alive until they reached land. This period of John's life was one he never talked about. But the ritual he first performed as a young man remained a part of him until he died.

    Now I visit Lucy as often as I can, just to chat or very often walk along the beach to the pier end. We enjoy the comfortable silence, each lost in special memories.

Do you like spicy food?

    What's your opinion on spicy food? Some people cannot handle even the smallest amount of chili-red pepper-in their dinner while others can't get enough of it.

    Scientists have long been puzzled by why some people love chili while others loathe it. Plenty of research has been done on the subject, dating as far back as the 1970s. Previous results showed that a love of chili is related to childhood experiences, and cultural influences affect our taste buds too. But the latest study has found that a person's love of spicy food may be linked to his or her personality more than anything else, CBC News reported.

    'We have always assumed that liking drives intake-we eat what we like and we like what we eat. But no one has actually directly bothered to connect these personality traits with intake of chili peppers,' said Professor John Hayes from Pennsylvania State University, who led the study.

    But before you look at the study, you should first know that “spicy” is not a taste, unlike sour, sweet, bitter and salty. It is, in fact, a burning sensation that you feel on the surface of your tongue. This got scientists thinking that maybe a love of spicy food is brought about by people's longing for thrill, something they usually get from watching action movies or riding a roller coaster.

    In the study, 97 participants, both male and female, were asked to fill out questionnaires about certain traits of their personality, for example, whether they like new experiences or tend to avoid risks. They were then given a glass of water with capsaicin, the plant chemical that makes a chili burn, mixed into it.

    By comparing the answers to the questionnaire and what participants said they felt about the spicy water, researchers found that those who tended to enjoy action movies or take risks were about six times more likely to enjoy the spicy water.

    Interestingly, we used to believe that the reason some people can withstand spicy food is that their tongues have become less sensitive to it. However, this latest study has found otherwise. “It's not that it doesn't burn as badly, it's that you actually learn to like the burn,” Hayes explained.

    One day, Mr. Arnold was teaching a lesson, and things were going as normally as ever. He was explaining the story of human being to his pupils. He told them that, in the beginning, men were nomads (游牧); they never stayed in the same place for very long. Instead, they would travel about, here and there, in search of food, wherever it was to be found. And when the food ran out, they would move off somewhere else.

    He taught them about the invention of farming and keeping animals. This was an important discovery, because by learning to cultivate (耕作) the land, and care for animals, mankind would always have food steadily. It also meant that people could remain living in one place, and this made it easier to set about tasks that would take a long while to finish, like building towns, cities, and all that were in them. All the children were listening attracted by this story, until Lucy jumped up:

    “And if that was so important and improved everything so much, why are we nomads all over again, Mr. Arnold?”

    Mr. Arnold didn't know what to say. Lucy was a very clever girl. He knew that she lived with her parents in a house, so she must know that her family were not nomads; so what did she mean?

    “We have all become nomads again,” continued Lucy, “The other day, outside the city, they were cutting the forest down. A while ago a fisherman told me how they fish. It's the same with everyone: when there's no more forest left the foresters go elsewhere, and when the fish run out the fishermen move on. That's what the nomads did, isn't it?

    The teacher nodded, thoughtfully. Really, Lucy was right. Mankind had turned into nomads. Instead of looking after the land in a way that we could be sure it would keep supplying our needs, we kept developing it until the land was bare. And then off we would go to the next place! The class spent the rest of the afternoon talking about what they could do to show how to be more civilized (文明的).

    The next day everyone attended class wearing a green T-shirt, with a message that said “I am not a nomad!”

    And, from then on, they set about showing that indeed they were not. Every time they knew they needed something, they made sure that they would get it using care and control. If they needed wood or paper, they would make sure that they got the recycled kind. They ordered their fish from fish farms, making sure that the fish they received were not too young and too small. They only used animals that were well cared for, and brought up on farms.

    And so, from their little town, those children managed to give up being nomads again, just as prehistoric men had done, so many thousands of years ago.

    There are two factors (因素) which decide an individual's intelligence (智商). The first is the sort of brain he is born with. Human brains differ greatly, some being more capable (有能力) than others. But no matter how good a brain he has to begin with, an individual (个体) will have a low order of intelligence unless he has opportunities to learn. So the second factor is what happens to the individual—the sort of environment in which he is brought up. If an individual has less chances environmentally, it is likely that his brain will fail to develop and he will never arrive at the level of intelligence of which he is capable.

    The importance of environment in deciding an individual's intelligence can be shown by the case history of the twins. When they were three months old, their parents died, and they were placed in different homes. Peter was brought up by parents of low intelligence in a separate community with poor educational opportunities. Mark was brought up in the home of well-to-do opportunity to be encouraged intellectually.

    This environmental difference continued until the twins were in their late teens, when they were given tests to measure their intelligence. Mark's IQ was 125, twenty-five points higher than the average and fully forty points higher than his twin brother. Given equal opportunities, the twins, having similar brains, would have tested at roughly the same level.

    When Lina was awoken by the sound of thunder, she was alone on the island. The air was cool and bullfrogs croaked. It was that brief moment when the summer sun had set but the stars hadn't yet appeared. Lina rubbed her eyes and looked around.

    "Hello?" she called. "Celia? Marie?"

    There was no response.

    The moon was rising now, shedding light on the island. They had always called it "Forgotten Island" because no one but they seemed to remember its existence. It wasn't on any of the maps they could find, and even the forest rangers didn't know about it. Lina loved that the island, hidden in a heavily-wooded side stream of the river, was a secret between the three friends -her, Celia, and Marie.

    But now Lina was here alone, and it was night. Worse still, it was her own fault.

    "Come on, Lina, let Marie row the boat." Celia had said. Marie was two years older than Lina, but she was a hopeless rower. That's why Lina refused and rowed the boat to the island. The argument that followed the refusal took the usual form. Celia took Marie's side, as she always did. Lina had exploded and yelled at them to just leave. So they got back in the boat and left.

    A bolt of lightning crossed the darkened sky, accompanied by a deafening thunder clap. The storm was here. As the first cold raindrop slid down her neck, Lina's mind returned to her current problem. She was stuck here by herself. She just hoped she didn't become as forgotten as the island. The thought of it sent a chill（寒意）down her back.

    Suddenly, Lina spotted something in the water. It was a boat, and inside it were Marie, Celia, and Marie's dad, who was steering through the fast flowing waters. As the boat approached, they saw Lina waving and the worried expressions on their faces turned to relief.

    In her excitement Lina jumped into the river. Only once she was in the icy water did she remember how fast the water was moving. Luckily a strong arm reached into the water and pulled her out. She smiled weakly at Marie's dad and, without a word, hugged Celia and Marie. They didn't seem to mind becoming wet.

    In beautiful rural Montana lies the town of Livingston. Around half the students in the Livingston School District qualify for free or reduced-price lunches, according to local educator Rachael Jones, known as "Farmer Jones". She is the director of the Livingston Farm to School program, which uses the district's two greenhouses and four gardens to grow food that supplements school meals while offering kids hands-on lessons. Jones said, "In many places around the country, if you can't pay for your school meal, you don't eat. Well, here, we don't turn anyone away."

    The town's school district and community members started the program eight years ago. It's part of the National Farm to School Network, which aims to increase access to local food and nutrition education across the country. Jones, who attended public school in Livingston as a kid, has headed up the local program since 2014. Farm to School enriches curriculums in all of the schools through garden lessons, cafeteria and kitchen lessons, and classroom lessons.

    Research has shown that healthy school meals can enhance academic performance, including improved test scores. Though the Farm to School program is not aimed solely at lower-income students, Jones said, "Such kids are more likely to eat lunch provided by the school. Eventually she wants to get healthy, affordable meals on the plate of every child in Livingston.

    It is important for kids to understand where their food comes from. That's a life changing experience for them. Jones said," When I grew up a big force in my life was my grandma Ethel. She taught me from a really early age the value of growing my own food. I worked in her gardens with her and somehow, through all of those experiences —eating her tomatoes and canning pickles with her —it really built up my trust and knowledge in food systems. I'm so thankful for her!"