When school started on that warm August day, I threw myself into everything I did, including playing volleyball. I decided to become beautiful, or at the very least, skinny. I stopped eating completely. Soon I began losing weight, which thrilled me, and I even grew to love the tiredness and lightheadedness( 头晕)that came with my poor diet, for those feelings meant that I was winning.

    As the season progressed, things had become tense between my head volleyball coach, Coach Smith, and me. She felt that something was wrong with my health. She talked with me about my eating and was angry that I wouldn't listen to her when she tried to make me eat. She tried to persuade me in a determined way and so we fought constantly. Then my hunger started to affect my performance. I was so tired that practice and games were becoming a struggle. One afternoon, with hurt in her eyes, Coach Smith asked me what I had eaten and I told her nothing yet. She looked at me, disappointment in her eyes, knowing she couldn't make me stop, and walked away.

    A couple of weeks later I attended a formal dinner for our volleyball team. I stood there as my coach managed to say something nice about me. I realized then that I had ruined my senior year by being disrespectful, and I had probably ruined hers as well. So that evening I wrote her a letter apologizing and thanking her.

    Then one Saturday, as I was reading in the library, I felt someone gently take my arm and say softly, “Lynn Jones, how are you doing?” I looked up and saw the familiar face. “Thanks for the letter,” she said. “It meant a lot.” When I think of a coach, I think of someone above me, someone who gives instruction — not a friend. But Coach Smith is different, and, like any other good friend, she dealt with my problem in a determined way even when I hated her for it at that time. I didn't deserve her kindness, but she gave it anyway. I will forever be grateful for her help, and now for her friendship.

    It's pleased to receive gifts from your loved ones. I have received many Christmas gifts over the years. But the best gift I ever received was presented to me by a stranger. I never even knew his name and I only had contact with him for less than 60 seconds. His Christmas present to me changed the way I had thought about people and Christmas.

    It was several years ago when my wife asked me to meet her at the local department store on Black Friday morning. They had advertised a child's bike that she wanted to purchase for our son. We stood with a very large crowd, waiting for the manager to blow the whistle. After a while, the whistle blew. It was like throwing a bucket of fish into a tank of sharks. I told my wife that if we obtained a bike, fine, but if we did not, I was OK with that too.

    As the shelf of bikes began to gradually decrease in size, I saw my polite opportunity to wrap my hands around the corner of one of the boxes. I lifted it off the box and suddenly felt some mild resistance. I looked up to see one of the largest gentlemen I had ever seen in my life. Threat was not the word to describe his presence. He was decorated with numerous belts of metal pointed leather around both arms and even his neck. Tattoos (文身) were an obvious passion of his.

    I started to return anxiously the box but he gently pushed it back in my direction and back into my hands. He then directed it into my shopping cart. He looked at me, smiled, and said, “Merry Christmas.” My wife and I went to the checkout, paid for the bike and went home. All the way home I was thinking that this moment was by far the best Christmas gift I had ever received. The kindness of a stranger that broke all previous views I may have had of stereotypes and prejudices. I will never forget the tenderness of a human heart in a simple act.

    If you rent an apartment in Beijing, you also rent the landlord or landlady for at least a year. It's important you find a good match because you have to deal with them in the long term. For me, it was love at first sight with the elderly couple who owns my apartment.

    It was quite a tough trying to find the right apartment when I first arrived in Beijing. The apartments were either unsuitable or I find fault with the owners who looked indifferent at best and unfriendly at worst. But that all changed when the renting agent's car stopped in front of a hutong house in the heart of the capital.

    I saw an elderly couple, in their 70s perhaps, waving to me. They were warm and welcoming at first glance, and when I saw them attentively hanging up the curtains in what would become my bedroom, I was just about sold on the place and the owners!

    Chinese people talk about yuanfen, meaning fate that brings people together. Before I met my current landlords, I thought the concept of yuanfen was overrated. A generous landlady who liked me and wanted me to move into her apartment had used the term in reference to me. But it was this lovely couple that changed my mind about the concept.

    We have become accustomed to visiting each other at home. The couple's apartment is lovingly decorated, boasting a recent wedding photo of themselves taken in bridal wear. The landlord likes to smoke and sip tea, while the landlady takes great pride in her appearance.

    After three years, I dare say they treat me a bit like a "daughter", despite having two grown sons, one of them close by. They give me gifts of tea or clothes, and I bring them souvenirs from my trips. A match made in heaven, indeed!

Inspired by the movement to protect the Carmanah Valley and Clayoquot Sound, I decided to devote myself to producing images for conservation full-time in 1992. Since that time my work has taken me all over the world and my photos have appeared in many major magazines. However, many of my most rewarding moments have come from working on projects in British Columbia, Canada, and sharing those images in slide show tours I have given throughout Canada, the U. S. and Europe.

The more I travel and photograph in other parts of the world, the more I have come to realize the wilderness we have in Canada is truly special and rare.

I have always felt that as a photographer my goal is to approach the natural environment with the sense of wonder and curiosity that comes so naturally to children. This, I believe, is one of the basic keys not just to producing meaningful images, but more importantly, to gaining a full appreciation and enjoyment of the natural world.

I find that not only my best images, but also my most enjoyable experiences in nature, occur when I have an open mind and follow my intuition (直觉). When I feel drawn to a certain scene, I try to make the scene simple and not include anything that is not relevant. I also try all ways to look for beautiful light. Early morning and the end of the day almost always produce light that results in more pleasing images than those taken under the strong light in the middle of a sunny day. Soft cloudy skies are wonderful for photographing all day, especially in our beautiful forests or for small subjects like wildflowers. Rain, storms, and snow also provide wonderful opportunities for new and different kinds of images.

15 years ago, Erin Merryn met a kitten who needed a home when she was a college student.

He jumped into her arms and refused to let her go.

"I was attached immediately and decided that I would take a risk and try hiding a kitten in my college dorm where animals are obviously not allowed," Erin recalled.

A week later she was caught and given 48 hours to remove the cat. After several phone calls, Erin was able to find an old lady to take Bailey, the kitten. But Bailey did not get along with his new housemate. As soon as Erin learned that he would be sent away, she immediately offered to take him back. "I plotted for a month to convince my parents to let me keep him." said Erin.

Six years ago, Erin had Abby, her beautiful daughter. She didn't know what Bailey would think about the new addition when she brought her home from the hospital.

"But it was love at first sight." Erin said. Bailey stayed by Abby's side, guarding and showering her with love and purrs. As Abby grew, he became her protective brother, watching over her every step of the way. Abby picked up a book one day and tried to read it with Bailey by her side. He became her perfect audience, and the sweet boy was completely attracted by Abby as she told him stories of wonder.

A video showing Abby reading to Bailey went viral on the Internet in 2018. Numerous people followed Erin on social media platforms.

Unfortunately, on December 8, 2018, just months after becoming famous, the 14-year old cat passed away from kidney failure.

A full month after Bailey's passing, Erin still got cards and gifts from caring individuals. It is this love that Erin hopes Bailey's fans hold on to. She wants her furry "first-born" to be remembered as a symbol of compassion that inspires others to treat the world with love.

This was no ordinary class. The students who came together were all science or engineering professors at Cornell University. They had interrupted their research to accept an invitation to take part in an unusual experiment: "an interesting week of poetry". This class was part of a study to answer the questions: Why is science difficult for many non-science students? What can teachers learn about teaching if they take a class that is not in their field? 

The students in the poetry class listened to lectures and took notes. They had reading tasks and had to write three short papers. All students noticed one thing—the importance of spoken words. In science and engineering classes, the instructors put tables and drawings on the blackboard. But in this poetry class, the instructors just talked. They didn't write anything on the board.

The scientists and engineers noticed one similarity between science and poetry. In both subjects, students need to find layers of meaning. Some layers are simple, clean, and on the surface;   other layers are deeper and more difficult. This search for different levels of meaning doesn't happen much in undergraduate science classes, but it is important later, in a graduate school. And it is always important in humanities (人文学科).

Both the poetry instructors and their students learned something about teaching from this experience. One poetry instructor, for example, now sees the importance of using careful, clear definitions when he explains a poem. He also plans to be more informative as he teaches. Most of the scientists agreed on several points. Firstly, humanities classes might help science students to see patterns and decide which information is important. Secondly, the poetry class was fun. One engineer decided, "We need to change the way we teach engineering to make it an enjoyable experience for students."

But perhaps the most important result of the experience was this: all of the professors began to think about how they teach and how they can teach better.