Grandma celebrated her fifty-third birthday just weeks before grandpa died of cancer in 1965. Although his passing was very difficult for her, I think their shared struggle to make his life longer taught grandma that good health was not to be taken for granted, and she made up her mind to live her rest of her own life as fully and as long as she could. One day, when she announced to attend lessons at the Fred Astaire Dance Studio in Portland, Oregon, where she lived, we rolled-our eyes in embarrassment and helplessly wished she would just stay home and bake cookies as normal grandmothers did. Many years filled with countless dance lessons passed before we learned to appreciate the wonder of having a dancing grandma.

I suppose grandma's primary motivation for wanting to learn to dance was social. She had been a shy girl, always very tall and heavy, and had married into grandpa's quiet lifestyle before developing any elegance or confidence in her personal appearance. Dancing, on the other hand, filled her life with flash lights，wonderful parties, beautiful dresses, handsome young dance instructors, and the challenge of learning. Although the weekly dance lessons did not change her ample, two-hundred-pound figure, grandma surprised everyone with energetic performances on the dance floor, which soon gave her as much elegance and confidence as any Miss American competitor.

    Having taken weekly dance lessons for years, my grandma learned various dances easily and was soon participating in dancing matches all over the Northwest. When I was fourteen, grandma proudly invited me to watch her compete in one of these matches to be held in the grand ballroom of the Red Lion Inn. My attitude was still unenthusiastic at that point, but to make her happy, my mother and I attended the match. As if to prove me wrong, grandma made a wonderful showing in every event she entered. I thought she was truly the queen of the ball during the dance, and my thoughts were shared by the judges a short time later when she was awarded a gold cup for her outstanding performance.

    An 18-year-old US girl gained unexpected appreciation and a surprise after she gave “extra help” to an elderly man in the restaurant she was working.

    It's social media that made her seemingly small action go viral and brought her appreciation from hundreds of thousands of strangers and a scholarship to Texas Southern University.

    The heroine Evoni Williams has reportedly been working full-time to earn money for further study in a restaurant in La Marque, Texas，the United States. It was last week when an old man named Adrian Charpentier asked for help to chop his ham for his hands were weak because of illness. On that busy morning when she had loads of work on shoulder, Williams helped the man without hesitation. The moment she was leaning over the counter and cutting the ham was shot by a customer known as Laura Wolf.

    Wolf posted the picture on the Internet and wrote, “I'm thankful to have seen this act of kindness and caring at the start of my day while everything in this world seems so negative. If we could all be like this waitress and take time to offer a helping hand…” According to local reports, Wolf didn't know Williams, neither did Williams know her act was shot and shared on the web. However, the small act of kindness soon accumulated its own power on and outside the Internet.

    Besides praise from netizens and media reports across the United States, a 16000-dollar scholarship to Texas Southern University was recently granted to Williams to support her study plan on business management.

    “We wanted to reward Evoni's act of kindness and let her know that good deeds do not go unnoticed,” said Melinda Spaulding, an administrator at Texas Southern University.

    There lived in South Carolina a young woman named Eliza Lucas. Her father was governor of one of the islands of the West Indies. Miss Lucas often got seeds from her father, and then she planted them in South Carolina.

    Once, her father sent her some seeds of the indigo (靛蓝) plant. She planted some of them in March, but a frost (霜冻) came and killed all her plants. However, she decided to plant some more seeds in April. These grew very well until a cutworm found them and ate her plants. Once more Miss Lucas planted some of the seeds. This time the plants grew very well. She wrote to her father about it. He sent her a man who knew how to get the indigo out of the plant.

    However, the man tried not to show Miss Lucas how to make the indigo. He did not want the people in South Carolina to learn how to make it. He was afraid his own people would not get so much money for their indigo if other people made it as well. So he destroyed the indigo on purpose. But Miss Lucas watched him closely. She worked out how the indigo could be made. Some of her father's land in South Carolina was now planted with the indigo plant.

    Then Miss Lucas got married, and became Mrs. Pinckney. Her father gave her all the indigo growing on his land in South Carolina. It was all saved for seeds. Mrs Pinckney gave some of the seeds to her friends while her husband sowed others. They all grew and were made into the blue dye(染料) that we call indigo. In a few years, South Carolina was producing more than a million pounds of indigo every year. All the people were grateful to her.

Elizabeth Bishop is considered one of the best American poets of the 20th century. She was born in Worcester, Massachusetts in 1911. Her dad died when she was just a baby and her mom never recovered from the loss; she went to live with her grandparents in Nova Scotia, Canada when she was five. Eventually Bishop attended Vassar College, where she began to write poetry.

At Vassar she discovered Marianne Moore's poetry and met "Ms. Moore" and began their life-long friendship. She later met poet Robert Lowell. She wrote tons and tons of letters to both of them, which is good for us because we would otherwise know very little of her personal life. Bishop's poetry is sometimes considered objective and cold because it shows almost nothing about the poet or her life.

Bishop published her first book of poetry in 1946 and wrote until her death in 1979. She would spend years working on a single poem. Her poems are not the result of hasty scribbling (匆忙乱写) on paper while eating breakfast. Over a lifetime of writing, she only published about 275 pages of poetry, and about 40 of those are translations. She would look through drafts of poems again and again and improve them until they were as close to perfect as she could get them.

Reading Elizabeth Bishop is like being transported to the very place, the very moment she's writing about. She leads us to a microscope so we can see every smallest part of the scene. It seems she's always asking us to notice more, and more until the poem is so clear in our minds that it's almost painful — like a light that's too bright. It might take your eyes a while to get used to it, but once they do, you'll like what you see.