John Blanchard stood up from the bench, straightened his Army uniform, and studied the crowd of people making their way through Grand Central Station. He looked for the girl whose heart he knew, but whose face he didn't, the girl with the rose.

    His interest in her had begun thirteen months before in a Florida library. Taking a book off the shelf he found himself intrigued, not with the words of the book, but with the notes penciled in the margin. The soft handwriting reflected a thoughtful soul and insightful mind. In the front of the book, he discovered the previous owner's name, Miss Hollis Maynell. With time and effort he located her address. She lived in New York City. He wrote her a letter introducing himself and inviting her to correspond. The next day he was shipped overseas for service in World War II.

    During the next year and one month the two grew to know each other through the mail. Each letter was a seed falling on a fertile heart. A romance was budding. Blanchard requested a photograph, but she refused. She felt that if he really cared, it wouldn't matter what she looked like.

    When the day finally came for him to return from Europe, they scheduled their first meeting -- 7:00 PM at the Grand Central Station in New York. “You'll recognize me,” she wrote, “by the red rose I'll be wearing on my lapel.” So at 7:00 he was in the station looking for a girl whose heart he loved, but whose face he'd never seen.

    I'll let Mr. Blanchard tell you what happened: A young woman was coming toward me, her figure long and slim. Her blonde hair lay back in curls from her delicate ears; her eyes were blue as flowers. Her lips and chin had a gentle firmness, and in her pale green suit she was like springtime come alive. I started toward her, entirely forgetting to notice that she was not wearing a rose. As I moved, a small, attractive smile curved her lips. “Going my way, sailor?” she murmured.

    Almost uncontrollably I made one step closer to her, and then I saw Hollis Maynell. She was standing almost directly behind the girl. A woman well past 40, she had graying hair tucked under a worn hat. She was more than plump, her thick-ankled feet thrust into low-heeled shoes. The girl in the green suit was walking quickly away. I felt as though I was split in two, so keen was my desire to follow her, and yet so deep was my longing for the woman whose spirit had truly companioned me and upheld my own.

    And there she stood. Her pale, plump face was gentle and sensible, her gray eyes had a warm and kindly twinkle. I did not hesitate. My fingers gripped the small worn blue leather copy of the book that was to identify me to her.

    This would not be love, but it would be something precious, something perhaps even better than love, a friendship for which I had been and must ever be grateful. I squared my shoulders and saluted and held out the book to the woman, even though while I spoke I felt choked by the bitterness of my disappointment. “I'm Lieutenant（中尉）John Blanchard, and you must be Miss Maynell. I am so glad you could meet me; may I take you to dinner?”

    The woman's face broadened into a tolerant smile. “I don't know what this is about, son,” she answered, “but the young lady in the green suit who just went by, she begged me to wear this rose on my coat. And she said if you were to ask me out to dinner, I should go and tell you that she is waiting for you in the big restaurant across the street. She said it was some kind of test!”

    It's not difficult to understand and admire Miss Maynell's wisdom. The true nature of a heart is seen in its response to the unattractive. “Tell me whom you love,” Houssaye wrote, “And I will tell you who you are.”

    Some years ago, writing in my diary used to be a usual activity. I would return from school and spend the expected half hour recording the day's event, feelings, and impressions in my little blue diary. I did not really need to express my emotions by way of words, but I gained a certain satisfaction from seeing my experiences forever recorded on paper. After all, isn't accumulating memories a way of preserving the past?

    When I was thirteen years old, I went on a long journey on foot in a great valley, well-equipped with pens, a diary, and a camera. During the trip, I was busy recording every incident, name and place I came across. I felt proud to be spending my time productively, dutifully preserving for future generations a detailed description of my travels. On my last night there, I wandered out of my tent, diary in hand. The sky was clear and lit by the glare of the moon, and the walls of the valley looked threatening behind their screen of shadows. I automatically took out my pen….

    At that point, I understood that nothing I wrote could ever match or replace the few seconds I allowed myself to experience the dramatic beauty of the valley. All I remembered of the previous few days were the dull characterizations I had set down in my diary.

    Now, I only write in my diary when I need to write down a special thought or feeling. I still love to record ideas and quotations that strike me in books, or observations that are particularly meaningful. I take pictures, but not very often—only of objects I find really beautiful. I'm no longer blindly satisfied with having something to remember when I grow old. I realize that life will simply pass me by if I stay behind the camera, busy preserving the present so as to live it in the future.

    I don't want to wake up one day and have nothing but a pile of pictures and notes. Maybe I won't have as many exact representations of people and places; maybe I'll forget certain facts, but at least the experiences will always remain inside me. I don't live to make memories—I just live, and the memories form. themselves.

    Lockers(储物柜)have been the symbol of American high school for decades. But walk down any hallway of the new Germantown High School in Madison County, Mississippi, and you won't spot a single locker.

    New technology such as e-books, interactive(互动的)assignments and Web-based learning is making lockers in

    American high school a thing of the past.

    Officials from schools that have listed several benefits: less noise, less delay and an increased sense of safety.

    “It's all to create an environment that's student-friendly”, said Ronnie McGehee, chief official of the Madison County School District.

    Getting rid of lockers can also cut hundreds of thousands in construction costs. Madison County saved $200,000 by not including lockers in the new high school, McGehee said.

    It is also believed that removing lockers could help prevent school violence. ”Lockers give kids a place to hide things”, said Mike Nelson, founder of a safety- training group. Nelson believes that some school shootings and other incidents could have been prevented if there had been no lockers.

    However, Andrew Booth, a 10th-grader at Gemantown High, said there are some disadvantages of not having a locker. “It can make your book bag really heavy”, he said. The 16-year-old has four textbooks “plus notebooks and a binder(活页夹)” to carry to school each day.

    He said some teachers have shelves at the back of the classroom on which students can leave their bags. Others provide an extra set of textbooks in the classroom, so students don't have to carry books from home.

    New York architect Peter Lippman said schools will have to address such concerns and find ways to give students a “sense of space” “If you are carrying books around, it does limit your flexibility in the classrooms,” he said.

Lippman said he would like to see schools starting to use the new free space to provide less structured learning opportunities for students, including gathering areas and learning centers. “If you think about a school with just rows of lockers-there's nowhere for learning opportunities in that”, he said.

    Before I had my son, I spent two years working with children with disabilities. I learnt that shouting and threats of punishment would result in a disaster. Coming up against their behaviour could only make the job harder and their behaviour more extreme. I found something that worked, though.

    There was a very naughty boy in the nursery and a teacher who was generally very confident with the children was asked to take charge of him. One day the boy joined a session in the room next to mine. His appearance created an atmosphere of tension. He spent the entire session running around, hitting and kicking, and destroying property.

    I was in the craft room working with some other children when my co­worker told me that this boy's teacher was in tears, and could not get control of the situation. As we were talking, the boy ran in. I told my co­worker that I would take care of him.

    I closed the door. He was full of energy, throwing things around and making a huge mess. But I could see that he was doing all these to annoy me. He needed connection, and this was the only way he knew how to ask for it. So I sat back down and kept quiet. Then he slowed down and began making a rocket. I talked to him about it. We continued like this for a few minutes before I slipped into the conversation：

    “So what happened today？”

    It was purely a question, no blame or anger in my tone. I believe that if I had criticized him, the gate that was slowly opening would have shut firmly closed. He told me that the teacher didn't let him do what he knew well due to safety but asked him to do what he disliked. He also admitted that he had enjoyed making her run around and saw it as a game. I explained that his teacher had not seen it as a game and was very upset. This again was stated simply as a fact. I suggested that next time he had a session, he talk about what he hoped to do at the start, which might be easier for everyone. He agreed and was quiet for a moment. Then he looked at me with tears in his eyes before quietly asking if he could go to find his teacher to apologize.

    Japan has long been known for both its strong traditions and being on the cutting edge of technology, and this new inn combining the classic Japanese surroundings with high-tech slippers and furniture is a perfect reflection of this.

    Nissan Motor Co. developed a system in which slippers park themselves at the entrance of the traditional inn, called “ProPilot Park Ryokan,” waiting for guests to use them upon arrival. When guests have finished using them, the slippers will drive themselves back to their original position. Each slipper features two tiny wheels, a motor, and sensors to drive it across the wooden floor.

    The same technology features in Nissan's all-battery electric Leaf car. High-tech sensors and cameras allow the vehicle to safely back into parking spaces without any input from the driver. Four cameras and 12 sensors assess the vehicle's surroundings. ProPilot Park handles the accelerator, braking and steering (转向) input when the car is parking. Drivers operate the system with the press of a button, which they must hold down the entire time. Lifting a finger off the button will result in the car stopping immediately.

    The inn, located in the resort town of Hakone, about 75 kilometers southwest of Tokyo, is currently most famous for its view of Mount Fuji. However, the new self-driving slippers, released by Nissan in March, is the unique feature of the high-tech inn.

    “The self-parking slippers are meant to raise awareness of automated driving technologies, and their potential, non-driving applications,” Nissan spokesman Nick Maxfield said in a statement.

    In addition to the slippers, office chairs, floor cushions and traditional low tables in the inn also wheel themselves back into place after use.

    In the shadow of Kenya's Mount Kilimanjaro, nine Rothschild giraffes, the rarest giraffes on the planet, are free to wander at the English-style manor (庄园). Every day shortly before 9am, they come up to the house and stick their heads through the windows and doors in search of morning treats. The manor's owners, Tanya and Mikey Carr-Hartley, share their dining table with them. And now the couple are sharing the fantastic experience with the public by opening the manor gates to guests at the giraffe hotel, the only hotel of its kind in the world. Now, guests can feed the giraffes at breakfast but can also get up close to them from their second-floor bedrooms.

    Mr and Mrs Carr-Hartley, both 38, spent their childhood living close to the house in Nairobi and have always been enthusiastic about the animals. Tanya said, "Mikey and I grew up near this manor house when we were children. We are both third generation Kenyans and have always wanted to work in conservation. Mikey's family have been related to the protection of animals for many generations. His granddad helped the removal of giraffes as far back as the 1930s because the Rothschild giraffes lost much of their natural living space. When the house came up for sale, we jumped at the chance to buy it as we had always dreamed of owning it. Now, we were absolutely overjoyed to do something for the giraffe protection. Having the giraffes so close is very special and something which people can now experience by staying in one of the ten rooms at the hotel."

    A conservation project to save them was started at the manor in 1974 by the previous owners. "The previous owners ran a very successful breeding (繁殖) programme, where many giraffes were set free into the wild and we hope to continue," said Tanya.