Kathy Fletcher and David Simpson have a son named Santi. He had a friend who sometimes went to school hungry. So Santi invited him to occasionally eat and sleep at his house.

    That friend had a friend and that friend had a friend, and now when you go to dinner at Kathy and David's house on Thursday night there might be 15 to 20 teenagers gathering around the table, and later there will be groups of them crashing in the basement or in the few small bedrooms upstairs. The kids who show up at Kathy and David's have suffered the pains of modern poverty: homelessness, hunger, abuse.

    And yet by some miracle, hostile soil has produced beautiful flowers. Kids come from around the city. Spicy chicken and black rice are served. Cellphones are banned. The kids who call Kathy and David “Momma” and “Dad,” are polite and clear the dishes. Birthdays and graduations are celebrated. Songs are performed. Each meal we go around the table and everybody has to say something nobody else knows about them. Each meal the kids show their promise to care for one another.

    The adults in this community give the kids the chance to present their gifts. “At my first dinner, Edd read a poem that I first thought was from Langston Hughes, but it turned out to be his own. Kesari has a voice that somehow appeared from New Orleans jazz from the 1920s. Madeline and Thalya practice friendship as if it were the highest art form.”

    “They give us a gift — complete intolerance of social distance. When I first met Edd, I held out my hand to shake his. He looked at it and said, “We hug here,” and we've been hugging since.”

    Bill Milliken, a veteran youth activist, is often asked which programs turn around kids' lives. “I still haven't seen one program change one kid's life,” he says. “What changes people is relationships. Somebody is willing to walk through the shadow of the valley of adolescence with them.” Souls are not saved in bundles. Love is the necessary force.

    How fit are your teeth? Are you lazy about brushing them? Never fear: An inventor is on the case. An electric toothbrush senses how long and how well you brush, and it lets you track your performance on your phone.

    The Kolibree toothbrush was exhibited at the International Consumer Electronics Show in Las Vegas this week. It senses how it is moved and can send the information to an Android phone or iPhone via a Bluetooth wireless connection.

    The toothbrush will be able to teach you to brush right (don't forget the insides of the teeth!) and make sure you're brushing long enough. “It's kind of like having a dentist actually watch your brushing on a day-to-day basis,” says Thomas Serval, the French inventor.

    The toothbrush will also be able to talk to other applications on your phone, so developers could, for instance, create a game controlled by your toothbrush. You could score points for beating monsters among your teeth. “We try to make it smart but also fun,” Several says.

    Serval says he was inspired by his experience as a father. He would come home from work and ask his kids if they had brushed their teeth. They said “yes,” but Serval would find their toothbrush heads dry. He decided he needed a brush that really told him how well his children brushed.

    The company says the Kolibree will go on sale this summer, for $99 to $199, developing on features. The U.S. is the first target market.

    Serval says that one day, it'll be possible to replace the brush on the handle with a brushing unit that also has a camera. The camera can even examine holes in your teeth while you brush.

    There are 5.25 trillion pieces of plastic trash in the world's oceans, and each year, 8 million tons of plastic are added to the figure. Though the oceans seem vast enough to stomach a lot of plastic, the level of waste is starting to reach a crisis point: According to a new report by the Ocean Conservancy, by 2025, the ocean could contain one ton of plastic for every three tons of finfish.

All these floating bits of plastic not only disrupt marine ecosystems, but they also poison the global supply of seafood. “It's reaching crisis proportions,” says Andreas Merkl, CEO of the Ocean Conservancy. “Plastic breaks down into small pieces that look like plankton and is eaten by everyone from plankton to whales.” Plastic acts as a pollution sponge in the ocean, so when wildlife swallow pieces, the plastic might as well be a poison pill.

    The new report calls for a focus on improving waste management systems in a handful of developing countries that are most responsible for the plastic leakage into the ocean. China, Indonesia, the Philippines, Thailand and Vietnam contribute more than half of the oceans' plastic since their waste facilities hasn't kept up with rapid industrialization.

    On average, only about 40% of waste in these countries is actually picked up for disposal. But it's not just uncollected waste floating around-though that is three-fourths of the problem. The other quarter of the oceans' plastic came from post-collection activities. Even when a waste management company picks up waste to landfill it, poorly equipped landfills or illegal dumping mean that trash still ends up in the ocean.

    But how can countries stop the leakage of waste into the ocean? The Ocean Conservancy report suggests five “levers”: waste collection services, closing the leakage points within the collection system, gasification and burning of waste, and recycling facilities. The average waste ends up as litter. Just by expanding collection systems and plugging up their leakage points, the report says plastics leakage could by cut by 50% by 2020.

    It's not just an environmentalist's daydream. Coca-Cola and Dow Chemical, along with some other multinational companies have joined forces with Ocean Conservancy to fight ocean pollution. “We're committed to working toward a future of a plastic-free ocean. Companies don't make plastic with the intent of it ending up in the ocean, and we acknowledge the strong role industry must play in order to help eliminate ocean plastic waste by 2035.” Says Dow Packaging and Speciality Plastics' global sustainability director in a press release.

    Merkl emphasized that the countries can't recycle their way out of the problem. Only about 20% of the waste is valuable enough to be worth recycling: the rest, needs to be sent to sanitary landfills or waste-to-energy plants. “You have to concentrate on the fundamentals of waste management,” he says. And while building landfills and incinerators(焚化炉)across these developing countries might not be pretty, it's far more environmentally friendly than letting waste slide into the world's oceans.

    What makes a building ugly? Everyone's got their own opinion, so it's hard to say. Now, let's take a look at some of the world's worst buildings.

    The Torre Velasca

    The Tone Velasca in Milan is in the centre of Milan (Italy). The tower, which went up in the 1950s, is about 100 metres tall. Its design is actually a modern representation of a traditional Lombard castle, where the lower parts were narrower (狭窄的）than the upper parts.

    The Mirador Building

    The Mirador Building in Madrid (Spain) was created by Dutch studio MVRDV and the Spanish architect Blanca Lleo. The building, which is a block of flats, opened in 2005. There is a large rectangular (矩形的）hole in the upper part of it, which is used by the neighbourhood as a meeting area and playground.

    The Prague TV Tower

    The Prague TV Tower is in Prague (the capital of the Czech Republic). It stands 216 metres high and looks a bit like a tall, thin space ship. Prague is famous for its architectural beauty,so when the tower was put up in 1985 by architect Vaclav Aulicky and engineer Jiri Kozak, many felt it didn't fit in.

    The Longaberger Basket Company

    The Longaberger Basket Company building is in Newark, Ohio (USA). The office block was opened in 1997 and looks like a very large basket. It，s got seven floors and two handles at the top. The handles weigh about 150 tons. It may not be the ugliest building in the world but it's certainly one of the most unusual.

    Mew Zealand's chief conservation (环保)officer，Lou Sanson, caused an argument in October suggesting that it should be time to start charging tourists for entering national parks. New Zealanders are keen fans of these parks. Many would be annoyed at having to pay. But many also worry about the incoming foreign tourists who have been seeking the same fun.

    In 2016 New Zealand hosted 3.5m tourists from overseas; by 2022 more than 4.5m are expected every year—about the same as the country's population. Tourism has become the biggest export. The national parks, which make up about one-third of the country, are a huge draw. About half of the foreign tourists visit one. They are keen to experience the natural beauty promised by the country's “100% Pure New Zealand” advertising campaign (and shown off in the film adaptations of “The Lord of the Rings” and “The Hobbit”，which were shot in New Zealand's breath-taking wilderness).

    But for every happy foreign couple posing for a selfie next to a tuatara (楔齿蜥)there is a NewZealander who remembers the way things used to be-when you could walk the tracks without running into crowds at every clearing. Many locals now wonder why their taxes, as they see it, are paying for someone else's holiday. Mr. Sanson would seem to agree. Entry fees could be used to upgrade facilities such as car parks and trails. A charge could also help reduce numbers at some of the popular locations by making it cheaper to use lesser-known, but no less beautiful, trails far away from home.

    Some are not so sure it would work. Hugh Logan, a former chief of conservation for the government who now runs a mountain climbing club, worries it would cost too much to employ staff to take money from hikers at entrances. It would also be difficult to prevent tourists from entering the parks without paying.

    Some argue that it would be easier to charge visitors a “conservation tax” when they enter the The Green Party the third-largest in parliament says that adding around NZ$18($12.50)is still acceptable to foreign tourists. But some travel companies don't quite agree with the idea. They note that tourists already contribute around NZ $l.l bn through the country's 15% sales fetter, such firms say, to use foreign tourists' contribution to this tax for the protection of the parks.

    Among the fiercest critics of a charge are those who point out that free access to wilderness areas is an important principle for New Zealanders, It is documented in a National Parks Act (法案) which inspires almost constitution-like devotion among the country's nature-lovers. Mr. Sans on has a rocky path ahead.

    Friends always ask why I, a middle-aged woman with no athletic talent, travel to perilous places—the jungles of Thailand or Borneo, for example, where the water is often unsafe and the food risky; places with infectious diseases, poisonous snakes and the wildest animals; some places where the locals are just a few generations past headhunting.

    I never know how to answer. My travel decisions assumed a new gravity nine years ago after I suffered a stroke. To prevent another stroke, my doctors told me, I'd have to take dangerously high levels of blood thinner (血液稀释剂) for the rest of my life and any travel would be risky.

    I had to think about what was important to me: family, of course, and friends. But then what? No matter how many times I thought about it, no bucket list was complete without travel. Then I had to decide how I might manage the risk. I had to decide how lucky I felt.

    My return to travel after my stroke came in baby steps. The first real test of my travel courage came nine months after my stroke when I joined my husband, Jack, on a business trip to China. After we'd toured the remains of a Tang dynasty temple on a high mountain, Jack wanted to ride down on a toboggan (长雪橇).

    Before the stroke it would've seemed like fun. But now? I hesitated. My mental klaxon (高音喇叭) screamed warnings about the consequences of a cut, a fall, and a crash. Then, gaining confidence from who knows where, I lowered myself carefully into the toboggan, which marked my adventure travel comeback.

    In the years since then, I've traveled about twenty-five percent of the time. Through it all, my lucks held out—no deadly falls, no car accidents or serious infections. For me, adventure travel is a risk worth taking. Travel broadens my world and keeps me connected to nature. What's more, saying "yes" to travel keeps me connected to myself.