My 17-year-old daughter went off to college and having her away from home brought back memories of watching Peter Pan when she was little. In the classic TV production, one scene in particular impressed me: when Mrs. Darling puts her children into bed. As she turns off the last of the night light, she takes one last look at the bedroom and says, “Dear night lights, protect my sleeping children.” As a mother, I know how much she loves her children.

    It has been several weeks since we took our daughter to college and she seems to be adjusting  well after a short period of homesickness. For us, though, it's another story. Like most parents, I love checking in on my children at night. But now she's gone, and I find night times the hardest. I miss her most at night.

    In my neighborhood, most of the parents whose kids are off to college are dealing with similar melancholy. My husband is filled with anxiety. One friend talked about getting this sick feeling in her stomach as she prepared for the college drop-off. We complained that many of us were too busy to truly enjoy being with our children while we had them.

    For us moms, seeing Toy Story 3 only made the sadness worse as we watched the character Andy, who is the same age as our kids, say goodbye to his childhood as he prepares to leave for college. And it's not just “first-time” parents like me. Two moms who have kids already well into college said the separation didn't get any easier. “You feel like something has been taken away from inside you” said one of them.

    I imagine things will get easier with time, especially as I see my daughter adjust to college life. Meanwhile, as I keep my cell phone close to me in bed and text my daughter goodnight and sweet dreams every night, I like to think that messages serve as a night light that keeps her safe.

    We want our children to succeed, in school and, perhaps even more importantly, in life. But the paradox(悖论) is that our children can only truly succeed if they first learn how to fail. Consider the finding that world-class figure skaters fall over more often in practice than low-level figure skaters. At first sight this seems contradictory. Why are the really good skaters falling over the most?

    The reason is actually quite simple. Top skaters are constantly challenging themselves in practice, attempting jumps that stretch their limitations. This is why they fall over so often, but it is precisely why they learn so fast. Lower-level skaters have a quite different approach. They are always attempting jumps they can already do very easily, remaining within their comfort zone. This is why they don't fall over. In a superficial sense, they look successful, because they are always on their feet. The truth, however, is that by never failing, they never progress.

    What is true of skating is also true of life. James Dyson worked through 5,126 failed prototypes(原型) for his dual cyclone vacuum before coining up with the design that made his fortune. These failures were essential to the pathway of learning. As Dyson put it: “You can't develop new technology unless you test new ideas and learn when things go wrong. Failure is essential to invention.”

    In healthcare, however, things are very different. Clinicians don't like to admit to failure, partly because they have healthy egos(自我)(particularly the senior doctors) and partly because they fear litigation(诉讼). The consequence is that instead of learning from failure, healthcare often covers up failure. The direct consequence is that the same mistakes are repeated. According to the Journal of Patient Safety, 400,000 people die every year in American hospitals alone due to preventable error. Until healthcare learns to respond positively to failure, things will not improve.

    But let us return to children. One of the major mistakes in education in the 1970s was the attempt to equip children with confidence by giving them lots of successes （setting the bar very low）. The consequence was that the ego of kids became bound up with success, and they became unable to take risks and collapsed as soon as they hit a proper challenge.

    We need to flip(翻转) this approach. In a complex world, failure is inevitable. It is those individuals and institutions that have the flexibility to face up to failure, learn the lessons and adapt which eventually excel(突出).

    The news of Harper Lee's second novel broke the internet. Go Set a Watchman would be published in July. Lee became a recluse (隐士)after the publication of her first book, To Kill a Mockingbird, in 1960. Although the author has been out of the public eye for more than 50 years, the wave that followed the announcement showed her novel's beloved place in the American literary works.

    In 1991, The Book of the Month Club and the library of Congress conducted a survey that made readers identify books that had made a difference in their lives. Lee's book followed only The Bible. Alongside the works of Shakespeare and Twain, To Kill a Mockingbird remains one of the most widely taught books nationwide, reaching an estimated 70% of American public schools. What makes it such a perfect read for young people?

    English class is a place where young Americans come to know themselves. In the folds of dusty books, students can make contact with humanity beyond the superficial(肤浅的) conversations of the school hallways. Literature promises relief, a place to figure out one's problems and get to know oneself better.

    To Kill a Mockingbird particularly distinguishes itself in this regard. It speaks in child's voice without treating its readership as children. People have called it an 'impossible' achievement, a children's book penned in the prose(散文) of a well-educated adult—it's unlikely that a child like Scout could exist in the real world. But that's exactly what makes it such a charming read for young people. It alludes to (转弯抹角地说到)the consciousness of a well-educated adult going through difficult realities, but shows it through the light and playful voice of a curious little girl.

    English nowadays is widely used in science, business, the media and popular culture. Every time we turn on the news to see what's going on in East Asia, or Africa, or South America, or elsewhere, local people are being interviewed and telling us about it in English.

    Indeed, if one looks at the facts about the amazing reach of the English language, he or she would be surprised. English is used in over 90 countries as an official or semi-official language. English is the working language of many international colleges as well as of most international research scientists. It is believed that over one billion people worldwide are learning English now.

    One of the most remarkable sides of the spread of English around the world has been the extent (程度) to which Europeans are accepting it as their language. English is spreading from northern Europe to the south and is now firmly set up as a second language in countries such as Sweden, Norway, Netherlands and Denmark. If one visits any of them, it would seem that almost everyone there can communicate with ease in English.

    Recently, a special survey of Europeans' use of languages has just been published. The report said that English is the most widely known foreign language now, with 43% of Europeans saying they speak it and that Sweden now holds the most of English speakers, with over 89% of the population. What's more, English is the language rated as the most useful language to know, with over 77% of Europeans who do not speak English as their first language considering it useful.

English has without doubt become the global language.

    If you have a chance to take a walk in a park, look carefully at the people walking their dogs. You'll probably find friendly-looking people with friendly dogs; quiet people with quiet dogs; large men with oversized dogs and long-haired women with long-eared dogs. As you've probably noticed, dogs and their owners look alike. Have you ever wondered why?

    These similarities are so common that researchers have tried to explain them. There are two theories (理论): the convergence (趋同) theory and the selection theory. The convergence theory says that as the owner and the dog spend more time together, they influence each other to the point where they grow similar. In other words, they “converge.” The selection theory, on the other hand, says that owners are interested in dogs that look like them, so they choose those dogs as pets.

    Recently, researchers at the University of California decided to test the two theories by taking pictures of 45 dogs separately from their owners. Then they asked some students to match the dogs' photos with their owners. The students were quite successful with purebred (纯种的) dogs: they correctly matched 16 out of 25 with their owners. However, they had almost no success connecting mixed-breed (杂交的) dogs with their owners. When owners select a purebred dog, they can easily predict (预测) what it will look like later. But that is not true with mixed-breed dogs because it's hard to predict what a mixed-breed dog will look like when it grows up. And since it was the purebreds not the mixed-breeds that looked like their owners, the research seems to prove the “selection theory”.

    But one bit of warning. Although many people look like their dogs, not all dog owners enjoy having the similarity pointed out to them. So, even if the similarity is amazing, don't go up to a stranger and say, “Wow, you look just like your dog!”

    A man went into a restaurant and sat down at a table. He ordered the most expensive dishes. The waiter served the meal. He ate it with great joy. Then a small boy came in and sat at his table.

    The waiter came up and said to the man, "What would your little boy like, sir?"

    "Oh, just an ice cream," the man told him. Then he stood up and said to the waiter, "I'm just going out to buy a newspaper."

    He left the restaurant. The waiter gave the boy an ice cream. The boy took it and then stood up and walked to the door. The waiter ran towards him.

    "Excuse me," he said, "But your father hasn't come back and he hasn't paid for his meal or for your ice cream."

    "He's not my father," the boy said. "I don't know him at all."

    The waiter was puzzled. "What do you mean?" he asked.

    "The man came up to me in the street," the boy said, "He asked me if I liked an ice cream. I told him I did. Then he told me to come into the restaurant at 2 o'clock and sat down at his table. He said he'd give me one."