A

    The most popular food in America was invented because a cook got angry. George Crum was a cook at a restaurant in Saratoga Springs, New York. One day in 1853, a customer(顾客) who had ordered fried(油炸的) potatoes sent them back to the kitchen. He wanted the cook to slice(切) them thinner and fry them longer. George Crum had a bad temper(脾气), and he thought the potatoes were fine the way he made them. To teach the customer a lesson, he sliced potatoes very thin and fried them until they were crispy(脆的). But instead of being angry, the customer loved the new fried potatoes. He asked for more. Other people who tried them like them too, and customers kept asking for them. Far many years, people called them Saratoga chips after the town where they were first made.

    Even now, after more than 150 years, potato chips are very popular. At least one of every ten potatoes grown in the United States is made into potato chips. So if you like potato chips, be glad George Crum had a bad temper!

    It all started at the beginning of the fifth grade. At first, Carmen wasn't really sure what was happening. In class, she had to squint (眯着) her eyes to see the blackboard clearly. She had to do the same thing when she read street signs, or when she watched a movie.

    It wasn't long before Carmen found herself squinting all the time, but she didn't want anyone to know that. One day, she asked for a desk closer to the blackboard. Her teacher asked if she had trouble seeing the blackboard. Carmen shook her head, but she knew she couldn't pretend(假装) much longer.

    At home, she had to sit closer and closer to the television while watching her favourite shows. Her mother noticed that and said, "Tomorrow I'm calling the eye doctor to get an appointment for you." Three days later, Carmen had" new glasses and the doctor told her to wear them all the time. Carmen frowned in the car the whole way home.

    "All of the kids at school will think I'm a nerd." she said.

    "You look just as beautiful with those glasses on as you do without them," her mother smiled and said. But Carmen didn't believe her.

    The next day, Carmen kept the glasses in her pocket as she walked into the schoolyard. She avoided her friends and stood alone, feeling unhappy. Suddenly, she heard her friend Tracy shout. Carmen ran over. "What's wrong?" she asked.

    "My silver ring is gone!" Tracy cried. "It's very special and I can't lose it!"

    Carmen could tell that Tracy was very sad. They all looked for the ring in the grassy area of the playground.

      ▲   She took the glasses out and put them on. She caught, her breath. Everything looked so different! So clear! She looked down at the ground and a glimmer of silver caught her eye. It was the ring.

    "Here it is. I've found it!" She handed it to Tracy.

    "Thanks, Carmen. I never thought we'd find it," Tracy paused. "Hey, I didn't know you wore glasses. They look great!"

    Carmen had forgotten that she was wearing the new glasses. "Thanks," she replied shyly. As they walked back towards the school building, two more girls from her class complimented (赞美) her on her glasses. Carmen smiled. "Maybe wearing glasses won't be so bad after all," she thought.

    I made a pledge(发誓) to myself on the way down to the vacation beach cottage. For two weeks I would try to be a loving husband and father. Totally loving. No ifs, ands or buts.

    The idea had come to me as I listened to a talk on my car radio. The speaker was quoting (引用) a Biblical(圣经的) passage about husbands being thoughtful(体贴的) of their wives. Then he went on to say. "Love is an act of will. A person can choose to love. "To myself, I had to admit that I had been a selfish husband. Well, for two weeks that would change

    And it did. Right from the moment I kissed Evelyn at the door and said, "That new yellow sweater looks great on you."

    "Oh, Tom, you noticed," she said, surprised and pleased, maybe a little puzzled.

    After the long drive, I wanted to sit and read. Evelyn suggested a walk on the beach. I started to refuse, but then I thought, "Evelyn's been alone here with the kids all the week and now she wants to stay with me." We walked on the beach while the children flew their kites.

    So it went. Two weeks of not calling the Wall Street firm where I am a director; a visit to the shell museum though I usually hate museums. Relaxed and happy, that's how the whole vacation passed. I made a new pledge to keep on remembering to choose love. There was one thing that went wrong with my experiment, however. Evelyn and I still laugh about it today. Last night at our cottage, preparing for bed, Evelyn stared at me with the saddest expression.

    "What's the matter?" I asked her.

    "Tom," she said in a voice filled with distress, "do you know something I don't?"

    "What do you mean?"

    "Well…that checkup(体检)I had several weeks ago… our doctor…did he tell you something about me? Tom, you've been so good to me…am I dying?"

    It took a moment for it all to sink in. Then I burst out laughing.

   "No, honey, "I said, wrapping her in my arms." You're not dying; I'm just starting to live."

    A couple of young men were fishing at a lake. Suddenly the policeman jumped out of the forest.

    At once, one of the men threw his rod (鱼竿) down and started running through the forest, and the policeman ran after him.

    After about half a mile, the man stopped and stooped (弯腰) over his hands on his legs to catch his breath. The policeman finally caught up to him, "Let me see your fishing license (证件), Boy!" the policeman said.

    The man pulled out his wallet and gave the policeman a fishing license.

    "Well, guy." said the policeman, "You must be about stupid as a box of rocks! You don't have to run from me if you have a fishing license."

    "Yes, Sir", replied the young man, "But my friend back there, well, doesn't have one."

    Four beggars (乞丐) usually met at an old shack (小窝棚) at the end of the day. One day, they were very upset because none of them had got much in their begging bowls.

    "I only got this piece of meat today," the first said. "I hardly got anything," the second said. "I just picked up these few vegetables outside the fruit and vegetable store." The third complained that all he was given was a handful of herbs(香草) that he couldn't eat on his own. The fourth beggar didn't do much better. "I only got the handful of old, dried beans, but they aren't very nice!"

    As they sat around the fire, one of them had a great idea. "Let's put all our bits together and boil them. In this way, we can make a tasty dish and share it." They all agreed.

    However, the first beggar thought, "I don't want to share. I'll just pretend (假装) to throw my meat into the pot. They'll never know and I'll eat my meat later." So he pretended to put the meat into the pot. Now the same idea had also hit the other beggars and the shack was so dark that no one could see what the others were doing.

    Finally, one of them suggested that the dish should now be ready and, in turn, each of them helped himself to a bowl. They drank the hot water in absolute(绝对) silence, learning that selfishness doesn't taste all that good.

    Studies have shown it takes a doctor about 18 seconds to stop a patient after he begins talking.

    It was Sunday. I had one last patient to see. I came close to her room in a hurry and stood at the doorway. She was an older woman, sitting at the edge of the bed, trying to put socks on her swollen feet. I spoke quickly to the nurse, saw her chart saying she was in stable condition. I was almost in the clear.

    She asked if I could help put on her socks. Instead, I began a long speech that went something like this: "How are you feeling? Your blood sugar and blood pressure were high but they're better today. The nurse said you can't wait to see your son who's visiting you today. It's nice to have family visit from far away. I'm sure you really look forward to seeing him."

    She stopped me with a serious voice. "Sit down, doctor. This is my story, not your story."

    I was surprised and ashamed. I sat down. I helped her with the socks. She began to tell me that her only son lived around the corner from her, but she had not seen him in five years. She believed that the pressure of this caused greatly to her health problems. After hearing her story and putting on her socks, I asked if there was anything else I could do for her. She shook her head and smiled. All she wanted me to do was to listen.

    Listening to someone's story costs less than expensive diagnostic testing but is key to healing. I often thought of what that woman taught me—the importance of stopping, sitting down and truly listening. And, not long after, unexpectedly, I became the patient, with a diagnosis of sclerosis at age 31. Now, 20 years later, I sit all the time—in a wheelchair.

    For as long as I could, I continued to see patients from my chair, but I had to give up my job when my hands were influenced. I still teach medical students and other health care professionals, but now from the view of doctor and patient.

    I tell them I believe in the power of listening. I tell them I know firsthand that huge healing takes place within me when someone stops, sits down and listens to my story.