A characteristic of American culture that has become almost a tradition is to respect the self-made man--the man who has risen to the top through his own efforts, usually beginning by working with his hands. While the leader in business or industry or the college professor occupies a higher social position and commands greater respect in the community than the common laborer or even the skilled factory worker, he may take pains to point out that his father started life in America as a farmer or laborer of some sort.

    This attitude toward manual (体力的) labor is now still seen in many aspects of American life. One is invited to dinner at a home that is not only comfortably but even luxuriously (豪华地) furnished and in which there is every evidence of the fact that the family has been able to afford foreign travel, expensive hobbies, and college education for the children; yet the hostess probably will cook the dinner herself, will serve it herself and will wash dishes afterward, furthermore the dinner will not consist merely of something quickly and easily assembled from contents of various cans and a cake or a pie bought at the near- by bakery. On the contrary, the hostess usually takes pride in careful preparation of special dishes. A professional man may talk about washing the car, digging in his flowerbeds, painting the house. His wife may even help with these things, just as he often helps her with the dishwashing. The son who is away at college may wait on table and wash dishes for his living, or during the summer he may work with a construction gang on a highway in order to pay for his education.

    A few years ago, I took a sightseeing trip to Washington, DC. I saw many of our nation's treasures, and I also saw a lot of citizens on the street—unfortunate ones, like beggars and homeless folks.

    Standing outside the Ronald Reagan Center, I heard a voice ask. “Can you help me?” When I turned around, I saw an old blind woman with her hand extended. In a natural reflex (自然反射), I reached into my pocket, pulled out all of my loose change and placed it in her hand without even looking at her. I hated being disturbed by a beggar.

But the blind woman smiled and said: “I don't want your money. I just need help finding the post office.” In an instant, I realized what I had done. I had acted with prejudice (偏见)—I had judged another person simply for what I thought she had to be.

    I hated what I saw in myself. This incident brought back my central belief. It reminded me that I believed in being humble (卑下的), even though I'd lost that belief for a moment.

    The thing I had forgotten about myself is that I am an immigrant (移民). I left Honduras and arrived in the US at the age of 15. I started my new life with two suitcases, my brother, my sister and a strong mother. Through the years, I have been a dish washer, roofer, mechanic, cashier and pizza delivery driver, among many other humble jobs. Eventually, I became a network engineer.

In my own life, I have experienced many acts of prejudice. I remember a time at age 17—I was busboy (餐馆工), and I heard a father tell his little boy that if he did not do well in school, he would end up like me. I have also seen the same treatment of family and friends, so I know what it's like, and I should have known better.

    But now, living my American middle-class lifestyle, it is too easy to forget my past, to forget who I am and where I have been, and to lose sight of where I want to go. The blind woman cured me of my blindness. She reminded me of my belief in being humble, and to always keep my eyes and heart open.

    By the way, I helped that lady to the post office. And in writing this essay, I hope to thank her for the priceless lesson she gave me.

    Some people find visiting ordinary museums to be a bit dull. Fortunately for them, there are unusual museums to check out, such as underwater museums!

    How can you visit and what can you see?

    Many underwater museums are supported by companies that offer guided tours. A trained guide leads groups around a stunning underwater display of statues in each museum. Depending on the depth of the museum, visitors may be able to view the sculptures from a glass bottomed boat or by swimming on the surface. Other underwater museums are deeper and are most accessible to scuba divers.

    Why are the museums underwater?

    Underwater museums have many functions. One of their aims is to create a man-made reef environment where sea creatures can live. That's why some of the museums are located in areas that were damaged by hurricanes or are considered underwater ''deserts''. The statues in the museum are designed in a way that encourages the growth of coal and plant life. Over time, the statues and plants attract a growing number of fish to the area.

    Florida, U.S.A.

    Florida is home to different types of underwater museums. The state's newest underwater museum, the Underwater Museum of Art, can be found off the coast of Grayton Beach. This part of the Gulf Mexico is an underwater desert, so creators hope that the exhibit will improve the marine ecosystem.

    Cancun, Mexico

    For years, Cancun has been a popular tourist destination. And one of the major draws is the water. The Museo Subacuatico de Arte is an ideal place for snorkelers and first-time divers. There they can enjoy more than 500 statues that help to make up a man-made reef. This museum was created to offer visitors a replacement for the areas natural reef, which has been damaged.

    Canary Island, Spain

    Museo Atlantico, off the coast of Lanzarote, has an impressive display of more than 300 statues. They were created by the same sculptor who made the Cancun statues. They focus on man's interaction with the marine world.

Perhaps you think you could easily add to your happiness with more money. Strange as it may seem, if you're unsatisfied, the issue is not a lack of means to meet your desires but a lack of desires—-not that you cannot satisfy your tastes but that you don't have enough tastes.

    Real riches consist of well-developed and hearty capacities to enjoy life. Most people are already swamped with things. They eat, wear, go and talk too much. They live in too big a house with too many rooms, yet their house of life is a hut.

    Your house of life ought to be a mansion, a royal palace. Every new taste, every additional interest, every fresh enthusiasm adds a room. Here are several rooms your house of life should have.

    Art should be a desire for you to develop simply because the world is full of beautiful things. If you only understood how to enjoy them and feed your spirit on them, they would make you as happy as to find plenty of ham and eggs when you're hungry.

    Literature, classic literature, is a beautiful, richly furnished room where you might find many an hour of rest and refreshment. To gain that love would go toward making you a rich person, for a rich person is not someone who has a library but who likes a library.

    Music like Mozart's and Bach's shouldn't be absent. Real riches are of the spirit. And when you've brought that spirit up to where classical music feeds it and makes you a little drunk, you have increased your thrills and bettered them. And life is a matter of thrills.

    Sports, without which you remain poor, mean a lot in life. No matter who you are, you would be more human, and your house of life would be better supported against the bad days, if you could, and did, play a bit.

    Whatever rooms you might add to your house of life, the secret of enjoying life is to keep adding.

    When I was a boy, our extended, immigrant family would sometimes gather at my aunt's tiny house over the summer. Relatives from all over the country would come in to visit. The adults would crowd together in the living room to talk and catch up on each other's lives. And the kids would be sent out into the front yard to play when dinner was slowly cooked for all of us.

    Those were the days before video games, smart phones, and motorized toys, so we often ended up playing an old game. I remember one of those moments especially. As I was the youngest and smallest of all the kids there, I got caught first and couldn't catch anyone else. My brothers and cousins were all too fast for me, and I grew more and more frustrated. I finally fell my face first into the dirt. I got up with tears forming in my eyes. Then I saw one of my female cousins Susan standing there. She started to run but was going much slower than before. I easily caught up and seized her. Then she turned to me, smiled, and said, I'm it! You'd better run! Iran off laughing with glee while she turned and started to chase others.

    Now I see how her act of kindness that day saved me from sadness and returned me to joy. It didn't matter that we hardly ever saw each other. I know we are family and she loves me.

    In her wonderful book: Box of Butterflies, Roma Downey writes, "We are all one, we all belong to each other, and we are one big beautiful family." Perhaps it is time that we all started to treat each other that way. Perhaps it is time that we shared our love, our kindness, our laughter, and our joy with everyone without fear. Perhaps it is time to finally and forever bring this world together in one big family reunion.