It was a weeknight. We were a half dozen guys in our late teens, hanging around “the flat” — as usual. The flat was poorly furnished, which, after some time, grew tiresome. We wanted action.

    We got in a car, big enough for all of us to crowd into — and off we went, in search of adventure. We soon found ourselves at Blue Gum Corner, a place named after the huge old blue gum tree that stood by there, a well-known local landmark. It stands at a minor crossroad leading to our town. The trunk is tall and smooth with no handholds for climbing. About six metres from the ground the first branch sticks out over the road. We parked beneath the huge old tree and discussed what we might do. All of a sudden we hit upon an idea — a hanging! I was chosen as “hangee”.

    The plan was quite simple. As I stood upon the roof of the car, the rope (绳子) was threaded down my jacket through my collar and down one leg of my jeans. I put my foot through the loop at the bottom. There I hung, still. The boys rolled about laughing until, a car, I hear a car! Before they ran to hide in the nearby field, they gave me a good push so that “the body” would swing as the car drove by.

    To our disappointment, the car simply turned off for town without even slowing. The boys came out of their hiding places and we discussed the situation. Surely they had seen me, hadn't they? Then we heard another car. The act was repeated, but still without any obvious reaction. We played the game about five or six times, but as no one seemed to notice, we abandoned the trick.

    What we did not know was that every car that had passed had unquestionably seen “the body” and each one, too scared to stop, had driven directly to the local Police Station. Now at that time of the night, the local policeman was sound asleep in his bed, so the first person sent to the scene was the traffic officer that happened to be on duty that particular night. He had been informed that some person had been killed, by hanging, at Blue Gum Corner. When he arrived, the body was gone! And he was hearing “unnatural sounds” from the surrounding area. As far as he knew, some fierce animal was hiding in the field before him, possibly dragging a body behind him — and we thought we were scared!

    He went to his radio and made a call that really began to worry us. I lay so close that I could hear every word. He called for the “armed police” and a “dog team, better make it two” and he had a “serious situation” at Blue Gum Corner. Then the police officer arrived. After a briefing from the traffic officer he decided not to go into the field until armed police and dog teams arrived. Now two spotlights were on the field and none of us could move.

    As luck would have it, police cars cannot leave their spotlights on all night without charging their batteries. So, after a time, the two officers began lightening the field by turns, allowing us the opportunity to move on our fours for freedom. One by one, we all managed to steal away and make our way home. Behind us we left what must have looked like a small city of lights, police cars, roadblocks, barking dogs, armed officers and an old rope hanging from a tree.

    When I think back to that night, to that tree, to what the drivers of the cars think happened, to what police believe happened, and to what I know happened, I am reminded of a simple truth — our eyes see darkness and light, color and movement, our ears hear only vibrations (振动) in the air. It is how we explain these vivid pictures that shapes our “reality”.

    When my sister Gina was born, she had a problem with her heart. Her heart was pretty bad in the beginning and she stayed in the hospital for a month. The first few years were very difficult because she was very sick. She had five operations before she was three years old. She had trouble walking, playing with other children, and going to school.

    Although Gina couldn't laugh and talk, we all knew that she just needed love and care. Our parents wanted to take Gina to a special place in Florida where she could swim with dolphins. Gina was afraid of swimming with them because she had never been around dolphins before. We had also never traveled that far as a family.

    When we got to Florida, we saw where the dolphins lived. It was a place where kids with special needs like Gina could come and spend time. I thought it was going to be a vacation, but it wasn't. Gina had to work hard every day for a week.

    The trip was amazing .Gina laughed and clapped(拍手) when she saw the dolphin, and the dolphin splashed (溅起水花) when it saw Gina. They swam together all day. Gina was able to move her body more than she normally did at home. Mom and dad were proud of Gina. I was, too.

    Growing up in one of the poorest communities with most crimes in Los Angeles, US, being raised by a poorly-educated single mother and attending the worst-quality public school, not many people expected much of me, so I chose to expect something of myself.

    On my 12th birthday, I bought a poster of Harvard University to hang in my room. Being at Harvard became my dream: I saw myself attending class in Sanders Theater, studying in Widener Library and eating in Annenberg Hall. Driven by this dream, I kept studying hard. I'd begin my day by asking myself these two questions: “What do I want in my life?” and “Are the things I am doing today going to get me closer to that life?”

    Asking myself the questions gave me the courage to ask over 50 Harvard, students for advice on my application essays; it gave me the energy to study just one more hour on my SATs when others were asleep; and it gave me the determination to apply for just one more scholarship when already refused many times. Moreover, reminding myself of my goal each day made it easy to say no to the same choices my friends made, because they would never get me closer to my goal. I found that even being poor could not take away my power to decide what I choose to do with my life.

    Every day I could feel myself getting closer and closer to my goal as my writing got better, my SAT score increased, and my scholarship offers started coming in. On March 31st, 2011, an email arrived from Harvard. The first word was “Congratulations!”. Tears of joy filled my eyes.

    Who you are today is the result of the decisions you made yesterday, and who you will be tomorrow will be the result of the choices you make today. Who do you want to be tomorrow?

    Turning on the TV, a wonderful scene comes to your eyes — a group of men, tall, strong and handsome, and women, young, beautiful and attractive, too. Together they eat in the finest restaurants, traveling everywhere around the world by luxurious planes and pleasure ships. They are models.

    Do you envy them？What sort of life are models leading？Is it a wonderful life for a young lady or a young man?

    A few models are well-known actors or actresses who can make a lot of money only by showing themselves off in commercials. But the majority of them are just curious to see what it is like. They^'d like to be models just because they are attracted by what they imagine — models earn a lot of money and lead a glorious life. This is true for those who are very successful. However, most models find it difficult to get work. Very few can earn enough to live on, and for all models their expenses are high. Their agents claim about 20% of the earnings, and no model will get very far without a clever agent. Besides, they have to buy good clothing. They also have to pay to travel to interviews and reach the places where the work is to be done.

    Interviews for a model job are known as cattle markets in the modeling world, and not without a good reason. A top model can choose his or her work, demand and receive high fees and has his or her expenses paid. But for most models, the situation is quite different. An agent or employer inspects each model much as a farmer inspects cattle at a market. Intelligence, qualifications and personal characteristics count for little against good looks and tight figures. For all except the very few lucky ones, the life of a model is a continual search for work, trying to sell him or her in the face of fierce competition and, sometimes, not particularly moral standards on the part of some employers.

    Immigration officials at the airport look suspiciously at a girl whose passport shows her occupation as “Model”, and these are men and women of considerable experience of the world. It comes no surprise to find that some models prefer to put “Secretary” or “Businessman” as their jobs in their passports.

    Larry Bird was born in 1965 in a small town in the Middle Western State of Indiana. He was tall, and good at playing basketball. He attended Indiana State University. Bird led the team into the College Basketball Championship Game.

    After completing his college studies, Larry Bird began playing professional basketball for the Boston Celtics. He remained with the Celtics for all his professional career. During those 13 years, Larry Bird was named the Most Valuable Player of the Year three times. He scored more than 21, 000 points, and he played in 13 of the highest scoring games in his team's history. Once he scored 60 points in just one game.

    During his very successful basketball career, Larry Bird suffered a number of injuries. In 1989, he stopped playing because of pain in his feet. He returned in 1990, but the pain in his feet returned too. In the next two years he experienced more medical problems, and he missed many games.

    Larry Bird did play on the Dream Team－the first Olympic Team with professional players. However, after winning the gold medal in Barcelona, he announced that he would retire from professional basketball. Larry Bird said he would have liked to play a little longer, but he could not because of his health problems. He also said it was a good time to leave the game. He wanted to be remembered as a winner.

    There is a story about a man who lost his legs and left arm in an accident. After the accident, only a finger and thumb on his right hand remained.

    He was a brilliant, creative, and educated man. He had gained a lot of experience while travelling around the world, so he became very depressed after his accident. He was afraid that he would spend the rest of his life suffering and would no longer be able to spend his life in a meaningful way. Then, he realized that he still had partial function of his right hand and could still write even though it was very difficult. An idea occurred to him. “Why not write to other people who need encouragement?”

    He wrote to the prison ministry about sending letters to the prisoners. The prison minister replied, “Writing to the prisoners is acceptable, but your letters will not be answered.”

    Filled with excitement, the man knew he could write his letters. He began sending one way messages of God's love, hope, strength, and encouragement. He wrote twice a week, testing his strength and ability to the limit. He poured his heart and soul into his words and shared his experience, sense of humor, optimism, and faith.

    It was difficult to write those letters, especially without hope of a reply. One day he received a letter from the prison ministry. It was a short note from the officer who monitored and checked the prison mail.

    The letter said, “Please write on the best paper you can afford. Your letters are passed from cell to cell until they literally fall to pieces!”

    No matter what circumstances life may present, we all have unique experiences, abilities, and God given talents. We can discover ways to reach others who desperately need messages of encouragement and strength.