Holidays

    Recently some articles claim the word “selfie” as one of the most annoying words. But I'd like to offer that maybe it isn't not so bad.

    The “selfie” is used to describe the self taken photo, often from a smart phone. Women and men alike adorn their Instagram, Facebook and Twitter accounts with these pictures, sometimes with puckered lips or large smiles. In fact, the selfie has become so widely known that over 31 million photos on Instagram are captioned with the selfie.

    Let's think about it. Someone takes about 10 seizes each time they do, and they only end up posting one or two of those. They pick the one that they feel makes them look the best. Isn't that beautiful? In that one picture, someone has even him or herself confidence.

    Self-image is important. In society today, we are so often consumed with what society tells us is perfect. But maybe, with that one selfie, we feel like we fit that bill. We feel handsome, beautiful, confident, smart, happy and content. For that moment, everything bad or terrible that has ever happened to us is erased, because that smile or that pucker is what gives us the determination to love ourselves.

    I saw a spoken word poem recently and the young man said: If I ask you what you love the answers will most likely roll off your tongue. You love to read. You love to write. You love birds, music, tattoos… Your mom, your brother, your sister, your daughter, your best friend, your dog. How long do you think you could go on and on before you said “I love myself”？

    That statement hit me like a ton of bricks. I've struggled with confidence all of my life. I still do. And in no way am I saying that taking a selfie is a gateway to that confidence. However, the selfie does deserve some credit for allowing individuals to express themselves. Pamela Rutledge agrees, stating, “There are many more photographs available now of real people than models.”

    It's 8 a.m., Tuesday, Nov. 18, 2028, and you are headed for a business appointment 300 miles away. You step into your circle, two­passenger air­cushion car, press a series of buttons and the national traffic computer notes your destination, figures out the current traffic situation and signals your car to slide out of the garage. Hands free, you sit back and begin to read the morning paper — which is flashed on a flat TV screen over the car's dashboard. Tapping a button changes the page.

    The car speeds up to 150 mph in the city's countryside, and then hits 250 mph in less built­up areas, driving over the smooth plastic road. You fly past a string of cities, many of them covered by the new domes (圆屋顶) that keep them evenly climatized all year round. Traffic is heavy, typically, but there's no need to worry. The traffic computer, which sends and receives signals to and from all cars on the road between cities, keeps vehicles at least 50 yds apart. There hasn't been an accident since the system began.

    Suddenly your TV phone buzzes. A business partner wants a sketch of a new kind of impeller your firm is putting out for sports boats. You reach for your case and draw the diagram with a pencil­thin infrared flashlight (红外线闪光灯) on what looks like a TV screen lining the back of the case. The diagram is sent to a similar screen in your partner's office, 200 miles away. He presses a button and a fixed copy of the sketch rolls out of the machine. He wishes you good luck at the coming meeting and signs off.

    Ninety minutes after leaving your home, you slide beneath the dome of your destination city. Your car slows down and heads for an outer­core office building where you'll meet your colleagues. After you get out, the vehicle parks itself in a garage to await your return. Private cars aren't allowed inside most city cores. Moving sidewalks and electrams (电车) carry the public from one location to another.

    I was so fortunate today to be able to offer my love and help to an older lady at my local supermarket. I saw her standing there. I felt quite strange about such a situation.

    What was she looking at? As I looked, I found it was a "Shredded Pork Bun Meal Kit", which is a service that sends customers food ingredients and recipes for them to prepare their own fresh meals. "That's new," I thought. Then I watched as the lady began to dig into her handbag and tried to pull out one of the biggest magnifying glasses (放大镜) I had never seen in my whole life! "Oh, she can't read it," I realized.

    So I stood there and continued watching her. The voice in my mind often asks me to do the right thing. It told me to help her. But I argued back saying, "No. I won't offer help. It will only embarrass her and she is OK now anyway. She has the world's biggest magnifying glass to help her！"

    And I stood there longer. But the voice came back, "Help her, Nicole. Don't be embarrassed. Just do it. Offer your help." So I did it. I read and explained all the things that were included in that box. I read out the ingredients, the instructions on how to cook it and so on.

    She didn't end up buying it, but she was still quite grateful. I walked away knowing that I had helped her and made the right choice. Mostly, I had reminded her that people in this world still care about the old.

    She was seen. She was loved. And she mattered so much that a complete stranger took time to help her. And that stranger was me, a person who argued and didn't want to do so in the beginning.

    So grateful I am when I choose to listen to the voice in my heart. It is because of love. Love is all that ever really matters. I also get happiness through helping her.

    I travel a lot, and I find out different "styles"(风格）of directions every time I ask "How can I get to the post office?"

    Foreign tourists(游客) are often confused(困惑)in Japan because most streets there don't have names; in Japan, people use landmarks(地标)in their directions instead of street names. For example, the Japanese will say to travelers, "Go straight down to the corner. Turn left at the big hotel and go past a fruit market. The post office is across from the bus stop."

    In the countryside of the American Midwest, there are not usually many landmarks. There are no mountains, so the land is very flat; in many places there are no towns or buildings within miles. Instead of landmarks, people will tell you directions and distances. In Kansas or Iowa, for example, people will say, "Go north two miles. Turn east, and then go another mile."

    People in Los Angeles , California, have no idea of distance on the map; they measure(度量) distance in time, not miles. "How far away is the post office?" you ask. "Oh," they answer, "it' is about five minutes from here." You say, "Yes, but how many miles away is it ?"They don't know.

    It's true that a person doesn't know the answer to your question sometimes. What happens in such a situation? A New Yorker might say, "Sorry, I have no idea." But in Yucatan, Mexico, no one answers "I don't know." People in Yucatan believe that "I don't know" is impolite. They usually give an answer, often a wrong one. A tourist can get very, very lost in Yucatan!

Christmas in the United States is traditionally a time of gift-giving and family gatherings. But small towns across the country have their own traditions.

Middleburg, a small town in the state of Virginia, is known for its horses. For more than 50 years, Middleburg has organized a yearly Christmas parade. Men and women ride horses through the woods and fields. They follow hunting dogs as they search for a wild fox. But first, these hunters ride in the yearly parade, wearing their bright red hunting clothes and hats.

John Hale, a citizen of Middleburg says many city people visit his town." We have a lot of people from an urban area that come to visit, but it incorporates a lot of the old traditions." The night-time hayride is one such tradition. Small groups gather under the moonlight on an open wagon (四轮马车) filled with hay (干草). The passengers sing as farm horses pull the wagon slowly across the fields.

There are some newer traditions, too. Trey Matheu works at the nearby Salamander Resort. He says a visit to Middleburg is a chance to slow down for a day. He says Middleburg can be a calming, peaceful place without tension.

"Middleburg is an opportunity to take a step back, to take a deep breath, and understand that even though life is moving on at a very fast pace, there's really an opportunity where you're allowed to step off for a little bit."

Parade organizers say more than 13, 000 people attend even in below freezing weather. But if you ask, you will hear many different reasons why people come to watch the parade:

"I come here because I'm from a small town. I like how everybody comes together."

"I live right down that street, right there. And that's my dog."

Middleburg looks its best at Christmastime. That may be why so many people return each year.