James Cleveland Owens was the son of a farmer and grandson of black slaves. His family moved to Cleveland when he was 9. There a school teacher asked his name.

    “J.C.,” he replied. She thought he had said “Jesse”, so he had a new name.

    Owens ran his first race at age 13. After high school, he went to Ohio State University. He had to work part-time so as to pay for his education. As a second year student, in the Big Ten games in 1935, he set even more records than he would in the Olympic Games a year later.

    A week before the Big Ten meet, Ovens accidentally fell down a flight of stairs. His back hurt so much that he could not exercise all week, and he had to be helped in and out of the car that drove him to the meet. He refused to listen to the suggestions that he give up and said he would try, event by event. He did try, and the results are in the record book.

    The stage was set for Ovens victory at the Olympic Games in Berlin the next year, and his success would come to be regarded as not only athletic（体育运动的）but also political. Hitler did not congratulate any of the African American winners.

    “It was all right with me,” he said years later. “I didn't go to Berlin to shake hands with him, anyway.”

    Having returned from Berlin, he received no telephone call from the president of his own country, either. In fact, he was not honored（给予荣誉）by the United States until 1976, four year before his death.

    Ovens' Olympic victories made little difference to him. He earned his living by looking after a school playground, and accepted money to race against cars, trucks, motorcycles and dogs.

    “Sure, it bothered me,” he said later. “But at least it was an honest living. I had to eat.”

    In time, however, his gold medals changed his life. “They have kept me alive over the years,” he once said. “Time has stood still for me. That golden moment dies hard.”

Dear John,

    My name is Amber and I want to share my story with you because what you've shared about life and positive energy has changed my life. This past year has been one of the hardest for me. I felt I was stuck in a position that had nothing to do with what I wanted to do with my life. In January, after two years of being together, my boyfriend left me.

    I read your blog every morning as I drink my coffee at work, but it wasn't until this March that I told myself "no more negativity" as you taught readers in your blog.

    Since then I've got into new habits at work to keep my energy positive. When people walk in the front door, I'm the first face they see, so I smile big when I say "good morning" to them, especially on Mondays. Instead of waiting for someone to ask me for help, I offer it with an open mind. The CEO noticed my change and offered me the executive assistant position that I wanted.

    One of the biggest things I've taken to heart from your blog is changing my opinions on my job. Yes, it was not an important position, but when I was passionate （热情的） about it, I could make my life fulfilling.

    All in all, I have to thank you somehow for having the passion to help others because it truly is inspiring to me. So thank you so much, John. My life has changed because your words pointed me in the right direction, Take care!

                                                 Sincerely ,

                                                     Amber

    It was very late and everyone had left the cafe except an old man who sat in the shadow the leaves of the tree made against the electric light. In the day time the street was dusty, but at night the dew settled the dust and the old man liked to sit late because he was deaf and now at night it was quiet and he felt the difference. The two waiters inside the cafe knew that the old man was a little drunk, and while he was a good client they knew that if he became too drunk he would leave without paying, so they kept watch on him.

     “Last week he tried to commit suicide,” one waiter said. “Why?” “He was in despair.” “What about?” “Nothing.” “How do you know it was nothing?” “He has plenty of money.”

    They sat together at a table that was close against the wall near the door of the cafe and looked at the terrace where the tables were all empty except where the old man sat in the shadow of the leaves of the tree that moved slightly in the wind. A girl and a soldier went by in the street. The street light shone on the brass number on his collar. The girl wore no head covering and hurried beside him.

     “The guard will pick him up,” one waiter said. “What does it matter if he gets what he's after?” “He had better get off the street now. The guard will get him. They went by five minutes ago.”

    The old man sitting in the shadow rapped on his saucer with his glass. The younger waiter went over to him.

     “What do you want?” The old man looked at him. “Another brandy,” he said.

     “You'll be drunk,” the waiter said. The old man looked at him. The waiter went away.

     “He'll stay all night,” he said to his colleague. “I'm sleepy now. I never get into bed before three o'clock. He should have killed himself last week.”

    The waiter took the brandy bottle and another saucer from the counter inside the cafe and marched out to the old man's table. He put down the saucer and poured the glass full of brandy.

     “You should have killed yourself last week,” he said to the deaf man. The old man motioned with his finger. “A little more,” he said. The waiter poured on into the glass so that the brandy slopped over and ran down the stem into the top saucer of the pile. “Thank you,” the old man said. The waiter took the bottle back inside the cafe.He sat down at the table with his colleague again.

     “He's drunk now,” he said. “He's drunk every night.” “What did he want to kill himself for?” “How should I know.” “How did he do it?” “He hung himself with a rope.” “Who cut him down?” “His niece.” “Why did they do it?” “Fear for his soul.” “How much money has he got?” “He's got plenty.” “He must be eighty years old.” “Anyway I should say he was eighty.” “I wish he would go home.I never get to bed before three o'clock. What kind of hour is that to go to bed?” “He stays up because he likes it.” “He's lonely. I'm not lonely. I have a wife waiting in bed for me.” “He had a wife once too.” “A wife would be no good to him now.” “You can't tell. He might be better with a wife.” “His niece looks after him.You said she cut him down.” “I know.” “I wouldn't want to be that old.An old man is a nasty thing.” “Not always.This old man is clean.He drinks without spilling.Even now, drunk.Look at him.” “I don't want to look at him.I wish he would go home.He has no regard for those who must work.”

    The old man looked from his glass across the square, then over at the waiters.

     “Another brandy,” he said, pointing to his glass.The waiter who was in a hurry came over.

     “Finished,” he said, speaking with that omission of syntax stupid people employ when talking to drunken people or foreigners. “No more tonight. Close now.”

     “Another,” said the old man.

     “No. Finished.” The waiter wiped the edge of the table with a towel and shook his head.

    The old man stood up, slowly counted the saucers, took a leather coin purse from his pocket and paid for the drinks, leaving half a peseta tip. The waiter watched him go down the street, a very old man walking unsteadily but with dignity.

     “Why didn't you let him stay and drink?” the unhurried waiter asked. They were putting up the shutters. “It is not half past two.” “I want to go home to bed.” “What is an hour?” “More to me than to him.” “An hour is the same.” “You talk like an old man yourself.He can buy a bottle and drink at home.” “It's not the same.” “No, it is not,” agreed the waiter with a wife. He did not wish to be unjust. He was only in a hurry. “And you? You have no fear of going home before your usual hour?” “Are you trying to insult me?” “No, hombre, only to make a joke.”

     “No,” the waiter who was in a hurry said, rising from pulling down the metal shutters.“I have confidence.I am all confidence.” “You have youth, confidence, and a job,” the older waiter said.“You have everything.” “And what do you lack?” “Everything but work.” “You have everything I have.” “No.I have never had confidence and I am not young.” “Come on. Stop talking nonsense and lock up.” “I am of those who like to stay late at the cafe,” the older waiter said.“With all those who do not want to go to bed.With all those who need a light for the night.” “I want to go home and into bed.” “We are of two different kinds,” the older waiter said.He was now dressed to go home.“It is not only a question of youth and confidence although those things are very beautiful. Each night I am reluctant to close up because there may be someone who needs the cafe.” “Hombre, there are bodegas open all night long.” “You do not understand.This is a clean and pleasant cafe.It is well lighted. The light is very good and also, now, there are shadows of the leaves.”

“Good night,” said the younger waiter.

     “Good night,” the other said. Turning off the electric light he continued the conversation with himself. It was the light of course but it is necessary that the place be clean and pleasant. You do not want music.Certainly you do not want music.Nor can you stand before a bar with dignity although that is all that is provided for these hours. What did he fear? It was not a fear or dread. It was a nothing that he knew too well. It was all a nothing and a man was a nothing too. It was only that and light was all it needed and a certain cleanness and order. Some lived in it and never felt it but he knew it all was nada y pues nada y nada y pues nada.

    He smiled and stood before a bar with a shining steam pressure coffee machine.

     “What's yours?” asked the barman.

     “Nada.” “Otro loco mas,” said the barman and turned away.

     “A little cup,” said the waiter.

    The barman poured it for him.

     “The light is very bright and pleasant but the bar is unpolished,” the waiter said.

    The barman looked at him but did not answer.It was too late at night for conversation.

     “You want another copita?” the barman asked.

     “No, thank you,” said the waiter and went out.He disliked bars and bodegas.A clean, well-lighted cafe was a very different thing.Now, without thinking further, he would go home to his room.He would lie in the bed and finally, with daylight, he would go to sleep.After all, he said to himself, it's probably only insomnia. Many must have it.

    Can you imagine printing food? Some scientists are trying to revolutionize the dining experience by doing this. They hope that having a 3D printer in the kitchen will become as commonplace as the microwave. Scientists say that they are easy to use:you simply have to select a recipe and put the raw food "inks" into the printer. You can also change the instructions to make the food exactly how you want it. This means that it would be very quick and easy to create tasty and nutritious meals.

    They say that if people used 3D printers to create meals there would be less need for traditional growing, transporting and packaging processes as food production would be a lot easier. For example, alternative ingredients (原料) such as proteins from insects could be changed into tasty products. And as is known,those traditional activities are not beneficial to our surroundings.

    This technology could also help people who suffer from dysphagia (a swallowing disorder).The patients could program the printer and softer versions would be made so that they would not have trouble swallowing them.

    However,some people think that using 3D-printed foods would be a disaster. It could take away many jobs,including those for growing,transporting and packaging food. Imagine a world where there was no need for farming or growing crops and the same tastes could be printed from a raw "food ink". Likewise, traditional cafes and restaurants might lose business. Also, there are concerns about the nutritional value of printed food:is it really possible to get the nutrients we need from food-based inks?

    What's more, cooking and eating together with family and friends has long been a traditional and enjoyable activity. It is hard to imagine a world where the pastime of cooking is dead and meals can be created at the touch of a button.

    If you wish to become a better reader, here are four important things to remember about reading rate:

    Knowing why you are reading or what you are reading to find out will often help you to know whether to read rapidly or slowly.

    Some things should be read slowly throughout. Examples are directions for making or doing something, arithmetic problems, science and history books, which are full of important information. You must read such things slowly to remember each important step and understand each important ideas.

    Some things should be read rapidly throughout. Examples are simple stories meant for enjoyment, news letters from friends, pieces of news from local, or home-town, papers, telling what is happening to friends and neighbors.

    In some of your reading, you must change your speed from fast to slow and slow to fast, as you go along. You will need to read certain pages rapidly and then slow down and do more careful reading when you come to important ideas which must be remembered.

    It's best to plan ahead and there is no better way than to prepare for an emergency before it happens. For example, the time to plan for a fire emergency is before it happens. This is when everyone is calm and clear-thinking. This is when decisions about safe escape routes can be discussed and made. Have a family talk. Don't delay. Planning won't help after a fire starts.

    Knowing ahead of time how to get out during a fire can save needed seconds. The best way out in a fire is the route you use to go in and out every day. Yet, in a fire this route may be blocked. Be sure to plan other escape routes.

    Take each person to his or her room and describe what to do in case of fire. Give everyone a job. Older children should take care of younger ones. Plans may have to be made for anyone who cannot escape without help. Adults who can't walk should sleep on the first floor. Small children should sleep near older persons who can help them. Only healthy, able persons should sleep in hard-to-reach places such as attics or basements.

    Practice your escape plan at night when it is dark. Be sure that your plan is good and will work. For example, make sure that a child can actually open the window he is supposed to use for his escape. Teach children to close their bedroom doors. Tell them to wait by an open window until someone can reach them from outside. If an adult cannot be wakened, children should understand that they must leave by themselves.

    Choose a meeting place outside. This way you can tell if everyone is safely out of the building. Know where nearby telephones or fire alarm boxes are found.

    If you live in an apartment, try to get everyone out. Learn where the fire alarm is in the building. Your family should know what the fire alarm bell sounds like. They should know what to do when they hear it. Try to get the other families in your building together to have fire drills. Write down the telephone number of the fire department. Stick the number to each phone.

    Early warning is the key to a safe escape. It has been shown time and time again that a family can escape if warned early enough.