The World Meat Free Day for 2017 falls on 12, June, but what would actually happen if the whole world suddenly went vegetarian(素食的) permanently?

     If vegetarianism were accepted by everyone by 2050, the world would have about seven million fewer deaths every year. No meat would lower the chances of some diseases or even some cancers and so save the world 2-3% global GDP in medical bills. Food-related emissions would drop by around 60%. This would be due to getting rid of red meat which come from methane (甲烷) producing livestock (家畜) — from people's diets. Turning former pastures (牧场) into native habitats and forests would slow climate change and bring back lost biodiversity, including some animals which were previously pushed out or killed in order to keep cattle.

    However, farmers in the developing world could really suffer. Arid and semi-arid lands can only be used to raise animals as there's no or little water in these places, such as the Sahel land strip in Africa next to the Sahara; nomadic (游牧的) groups that keep livestock there would be forced to settle permanently and lose their cultural identities if there were no more meat. Losing meat also means that we also lose traditions. There's no more Christmas turkey. We would need to replace meat with nutritional substitutes, in particular for the world's estimated two billion-plus unhealthy or weak people for lack of nutrients. Animal products contain more nutrients per calorie than staples like grains and rice.

    Everybody currently engaged in the livestock industry would need to be retrained for a new career. This could be in agriculture, reforestation or producing bioenergy. Failing to provide career alternatives could lead to mass unemployment and social problems, particularly in traditionally rural communities.

    It was dawn of March 21, 2018. Gary Messina was on his morning run along New York City'8East River. Suddenly something caught his eye—a large 60-year-old man balancing on the four-foot-high fence that guarded the path from the water. As Messina got closer to the scene, the man took a step forward and slipped into the dark river below.

    When Messina reached nearer, the man was struggling in the water, clearly unable to swim. Other joggers also heard the man's cry. David Blauzvern and John Green dropped their phones and keys on land and jumped in. “ People had called the police, but it was unclear when they'd get there,” says Green. “We just reacted. Messina joined them in the river. Just as the jumper was losing strength, Blauzvern take hold of him. The pair were about 30 yards from the seawall when Messina and Green caught up to them. They seized the man, with Blauzvern supporting his back and Messina and Green holding him up from either side. As the men made their way toward the concrete seawall that stretched for blocks in each direction, Blauzvern had an awful realization:there was no way out of the river.

    By now, a crowd had gathered on land. “A rescue boat is on its way, someone yelled to them. Swimming forward was getting tougher by the minute. The jumper, who was six foot two and weighed around 260 pounds, was heavy in his rescuers' arms. After ten minutes, they managed to get to the river's edge. “I've never been so out of breath, ”says Blauzvern.

    Fifteen minutes after the men had jumped into the river, the two-man rescue boat appeared. But because it couldn't risk getting too close to the seawall, the men had to swim out to it. “I was completely out of energy at this point, “says Blauzver. The men in the water pushed the jumper while the men in the boat pulled him up and, finally, to safety. The man they had saved was taken to the hospital for evaluation(评估). Details on his condition have not been released. As for the rescuers, each of them was at work by 10:30a. m. “I was a bit late,” admits Blauzvern, smiling. “But I had a good excuse.”

    Ammie Reddick was only 18 months old when she had the accident that had scarred（留下创伤） her for life. The curious child reached up to grab the wire of a hot kettle in the family kitchen and poured boiling water over her tiny infant frame.

    Her mother Ruby turned round and, seeing Ammie horribly burnt, called an ambulance which rushed her daughter to a nearby hospital. Twenty percent of Ammie's body had been burned and all of her burns were third-degree. There, using tissue taken from unburned areas of Ammie's body, doctors performed complex skin transplants to close her wounds and control her injuries. Over the next 16 years, Ammie underwent 12 more operations to repair her body.

    When she started school at Maxwelton Primary at age 4, other pupils made cruel comments or simply wouldn't play with her. “I was the only burned child in the street, the class and the school,” she recalled, “some children refused to become friends because of that.”

    Today, aged 17, Ammie can only ever remember being a burned person with scars; pain is a everlasting part of her body. Yet she is a confident, outgoing teenager who offers inspiration and hope to other young burns victims.

    She is a member of the Scottish Burned Children's Club, a charity set up last year. This month, Ammie will be joining the younger children at the Graffham Water Center in Cambridgeshire for the charity's first summer camp. “I'll show them how to get rid of unkind stares from others,” she says. Ammie loves wearing fashionable sleeveless tops, and she plans to show the youngsters at the summer camp that they can too. “I do not go to great lengths to hide my burns scars,” she says, “I gave up wondering how other people would react years ago.”

    The man goes quietly into the room. He stands over the bed where his three-day-old son is lying and begins to speak to him.

    "My son, I have dreamt of you for many, many years. I had your name picked out even before you were born because I knew that I wanted you. Every time I thought of you I would have a smile on my face. Gabriel. You always gave me joy."

    "I really hope we have a great relationship, where you can talk to me about anything and not be embarrassed. Most of the time it will seem like I am too old to understand, but I'm sure you will see that, as I did with my father, my advice is some of the best you will get."

    "I am sorry for the misunderstandings (误会) we will have, but you will understand I spent my whole life waiting for you. You are my son, so I am not going to sit back and watch you hurt yourself. You are very important to me."

    The man stops and looks at his son. Then he begins to sob (呜咽).

    "Sorry my dear, I'm crying because something bad happened. I am seriously ill. I will leave you soon." The man gives a weak laugh. "This is the first time in many years I have been brought to tears." The man kisses the baby who is sleeping so soundly and whispers, "I will love you forever."

    Many people criticize today's newspapers as sensationalist, satisfying the public's abnormal curiosity. But journalism a century ago was just as notorious (臭名昭著). Publishers at that time routinely competed with each other for wild stories that could draw in the most readers. Meanwhile, it was an ideal atmosphere for a courageous reporter like Nellie Bly to spring into fame.

    Bly, whose name was Elizabeth Corcoran, had to work to make her way in the world. Different from many women of the time, however, she refused to let the working world scare her away. Her first big opportunity as a reporter came in 1885 after she wrote an angry letter denouncing the Pittsburgh Dispatch for an article it had run criticizing women forced to work outside the home. The interested and excited editor hired Bly for her "spirit," and soon she was investigating the situations of female factory workers. Bly cared less about their jobs than their lives after work  - their amusements, their motivations, their fears and ambitions. She produced an article totally different from what other reporters of the time were writing: personal, thoughtful, meaningful.

    By 1887 Bly had a job with the New York World, one of the leader papers of the day. She quickly became famous for undercover stories about women in a mental hospital. Soon she had investigated life as a maid, a chorus girl, and even a street girl. In her best - known brave deeds, in 1890, Bly beat the famous "around the world in 80 days" trip Jules Verne had described in his novel. Traveling by steamship, train, even ricksha, Bly reported from each stop. A spellbound nation hung on every word. Only 25, Bly had become internationally famous.