Kunta wondered why the white people had done this to him. Born a free man, he was now in chains. Heavy iron chains around his feet and hands were fixed to a metal bar that ran round the hall about ten centimeters off the ground. He was just able to lie down on the ground, but could not stand up.

    Kunta had been seized in the forest and then hit on the head with a hard object. When he woke up, his hands and feet had already been tied together. What shocked him most was that the men who carried him were black. He reasoned with them, and tried to persuade them to set him free. But they would not listen to him. When they came to the river, a white man was waiting in the boat for them. There was an argument about money, so it seemed, in a language that Kunta did not understand. Finally, Kunta was thrown into the bottom of the boat and covered with an old smelly cloth. The men took him in their boat to the castle on the coast where he was now held prisoner.

    Another thing which shocked Kunta was that women were held in the castle too. He could hear their crying, also children's voices. What was to become of them all, he wondered. For all his life, he had known that people suddenly disappeared from their villages. He had known that it was not safe to travel alone in the forest near the coast. But why did white people want to catch Africans and put them in chains? Would they be killed or even eaten? The situation seemed hopeless and he knew his life was in danger.

    Worse was to come. A few days later about 140 black people were taken and put on a tall sailing ship waiting off the coast. Once on the boat, they were taken below and their chains were fixed to two bars that ran the length of the ship. Their feet were fixed to one bar and their hands to another bar. Thus they lay on hard wooden boards, unable to stand up or move around.

    The sea journey lasted over sixty days and nights. They had rough weather and Kunta's back bled from rolling over on the hard wooden boards. Many of the men fell sick with fever. They sighed and cried out for more water, but food and water were only given out once a day. Once in a while sailors came down, Kunta thought, to carry sick men upstairs for treatment. When the ship finally arrived in a port, the wooden cover was opened wide and Kunta could see in daylight for the first time across the part of the ship where he had been chained. About a third of the people who had been chained up below at the beginning of the journey were missing.

    When I told my father that I was moving to Des Moines, Iowa, he told me about the only time he had been there. It was in the 1930s, when he was an editor of the literary magazine of Southern Methodist University（SMU）in Dallas, Texas. He also worked as a professor at SMU, and there was a girl student in his class who suffered from a serious back disease. She couldn't afford the operation because her family was poor.

    Her mother ran a boardinghouse in Galveston, a seaside town near Houston, Texas. She was cleaning out the attic（阁楼）one day when she came across an old dusty manuscript（手稿）. On its top page were the words, “By O. Henry”. It was a nice story, and she sent it to her daughter at SMU, who showed it to my father. My father had never read the story before, but it sounded like O. Henry, and he knew that O. Henry had once lived in Houston. So it was possible that the famous author had gone to the beach and stayed in the Galveston boardinghouse, and had written the story there and left the manuscript behind by accident. My father visited an O. Henry expert at Columbia University in New York, whoauthenticatedthe story as O. Henry's.

My father then set out to sell it. Eventfully, he found himself in Des Moines, meeting with Gardner Cowles, a top editor at the Des Moines Register. Cowles loves the story and bought it on the spot. My father took the money to the girl. It was just enough for her to have the operation she so desperately needed.

My father never told me what the O. Henry story was about. But I doubt that it could have been better than his own story.

    Most nations have at least one type of food that people from other countries think is unusual or unethical（不道德的）to eat. In France, people eat horse meat and frog legs. In South Korea and parts of China, restaurants serve dog meat. And in Australia, it's common to cook kangaroo meat on the barbecue and use emu（鸸鹋）eggs to make pancakes.

    The kangaroo and emu are native to Australia. Both animals are important to the national image of Australia and appear on the Australian coat of arms. They're also central figures in the history of the indigenous（土生土长的）Australian Aboriginals（土著人）. However, Aboriginal tribes still hunt these animals for their meat, fur and fat.

    Today, Australian people continue to eat these animals. One of the reasons people eat kangaroo meat is that it's high in protein and low in fat, so eating kangaroo is a good option for anyone on a diet. It's also cheaper to eat kangaroo meat than other red meats. Because of this, a lot of university students choose to buy kangaroo meat. BBC News also reported that Australian scientists believe that eating kangaroo meat is good for the environment--kangaroos have different digestive systems than cows and sheep, meaning they produce less methane（甲烷），the second biggest contributor to global warming.

    While emu meat is high in iron and vitamin C, most people don't think it tastes good. For this reason, they prefer emu eggs. One egg is large enough to make seven omelettes（煎蛋）. And while it's illegal to collect emu eggs from the wild, they can be bought from emu farms. Rather than cracking the beautiful dark shell, it's better to drain it by putting a small hole at each end and blowing. Afterwards, you can even carve a design into the eggshell.

    It was a cold winter day. A woman drove up to the Rainbow Bridge tollbooth(收费站). “I'm paying for myself, and for the six cars behind me,” she said with a smile, handing over seven tickets. One after another, the next six drivers arriving at the tollbooth were informed, “Some lady up ahead already paid your fare.”

    It turned out that woman, Natalie Smith, had read something on a friend's refrigerator: “Practice random (任意的 )kindness and senseless acts of beauty.” The phrase impressed her so much that she copied it down.

    Judy Foreman spotted the same phrase on a warehouse wall far away from home. When it stayed on her mind for days, she gave up and drove all the way back to copy it down. “I thought it was beautiful,” she said, explaining why she'd taken to writing it at the bottom of all her letters, “like a message from the above.” Her husband, Frank, liked the phrase so much that he put it up on the classroom wall for his students, one of whom was the daughter of Alice Johnson, a local news reporter. Alice put it in the newspaper, admitting that though she liked it, she didn't know where it came from or what it really meant.

    Two days later, Alice got a call from Anne Herbert, a woman living in Martin. It was in a restaurant that Anne wrote the phrase down on a piece of paper, after turning it around in her mind for days.

    “Here's the idea,” Anne says. “Anything you think there should be more of, do it randomly.” Her fantasies include painting the classroom of shabby schools, leaving hot meals on kitchen tables in the poor part of town, and giving money secretly to a proud old lady. Anne says, “Kindness can build on itself as much as violence can.”

    The acts of random kindness spread. If you were one of those drivers who found your fare paid, who knows what you might have been inspired to do for someone else later? Like all great events, kindness begins slowly, with every single act. Let it be yours！

    I have a neighbor who is a capable, fashionable, seventy-year-old, single woman. Her name is Grace. Grace was laid off from her job a little over two years ago and has been living off her savings ever since but not officially "retired". Grace called me up one day about this time last year and asked if I had a ladder. She needed to clean out her gutters (水槽) on the roof and wanted me to hold the ladder.

    She didn't want me to climb up and clean the gutters. She just wanted me to hold the ladder. As it happened I did have a ladder. I said: “The leaves are going to fall off the trees in a month, why don't we wait till they finish and do it then?” She agreed and naturally we didn't talk about it again until spring. Spring in Tennessee is wild and we talked about it over the course of three weeks in which it rained nearly every day, then I got busy and Grace went into seclusion (隐居).

    A couple of weeks ago, she told me she'd been spending too much money and decided to apply for a bar tending job at a local hotel. "Now I don't know about you all but I'd never considered what it would be like to apply for and begin a new job at the age of seventy. I'm fifty-three and the older I get, the more I think about how great it'll be if I can just get out of bed when I'm seventy." Anyway, she got the job, serving the bar and tending banquets at the hotel.

    The day when she left for her training at 6 am, I walked across the street with my ladder and cleaned out her gutters.

As people are becoming more socially conscious about where their food comes from and how it impacts the planet, they are choosing animal-free plant-based options. Cow-free meat has been around for quite some time and the popularity of brands of the cultivated meat is rising. While there are a large number of plant-based milk substitutes, none of them have the same taste of cow's milk. Now, a food-tech company created real dairy products without harming a single cow or the planet.

The company stresses that their product produced in the lab is not a milk substitute but rather is the real deal. And it is very healthy. The company also says that the lab-produced milk tastes identical to the real thing and they hope to eventually replace cows by creating every dairy product sold. They expect to roll out plant-based cheese and yogurt in addition to milk. “Our company was founded with the mission to stop using animals to produce -our food because, as dairy lovers, we realize that giving up on milk is not an option,” John said. “But today's milk comes with an unreasonable price tag. The dairy industry is destructive to our planet, our health, and our animals, and is simply not sustainable anymore.”

The environmental price tag of dairy farming is way too high. According to the World Wildlife Fund, dairy cows add a huge amount of greenhouse gases to the atmosphere and-contribute to global warming and climate change as well as pollute the air around them. Dairy operations consume large amounts of water and run-off of manure and fertilizers from these farms get into local waterways. The production uses only 5 percent of the resources and produces only 1 percent of the waste of producing cow's milk according to the company. And they accomplish this by being 100 percent cruelty-free unlike dairy farms.