In the library, I found my way into the “Children's Room.” I sat down on the floor and pulled a few books off the shelf at random. The cover of a book caught my eye. It presented a picture of a beagle. I had recently had a beagle, the first and only animal companion I ever had as a child. He was my secret sharer, but one morning, he was gone, given away to someone who had the space and the money to care for him. I never forgot my beagle.

       There on the book's cover was a beagle which looked identical（相同的） to my dog. I ran my fingers over the picture of the dog on the cover. My eyes ran across the title, Amos, the Beagle with a Plan. Unknowingly, I had read the title. Without opening the book, I borrowed it from the library for the summer.

Under the shade of a bush, I started to read about Amos. I read very, very slowly with difficulty. Though pages were turned slowly, I got the main idea of the story about a dog who, like mine, had been separated from his family and who finally found his way back home. That dog was my dog, and I was the little boy in the book. At the end of the story, my mind continued the final scene of reunion, on and on, until my own lost dog and I were, in my mind, running together.

       My mother's call returned me to the real world. I suddenly realized something: I had read a book, and I had loved reading that book. Everyone knew I could not read. But I had read it. Books could be incredibly wonderful and I was going to read them.

       I never told my mother about my “miraculous” (奇迹般地) experience that summer, but she saw a slow but remarkable improvement in my classroom performance during the next year. And years later, she was proud that her son had read thousands of books, was awarded a PhD in literature, and authored his own books, articles, poetry and fiction. The power of the words has held.

    It's interesting when you think about how Japan is a nation that appreciates the virtues of silence and good manners, and yet when it comes to eating noodles, Japanese people can be the loudest in the world.

    According to lifestyle website grapee.jp, slurping when eating noodles is encouraged in Japanese culture. It's believed that taking air into your mouth can enhance the flavor of the noodles, and that it helps cool down the noodles. It's also considered to be a way to show appreciation for the dish. Sometimes, just making the noise alone seems to make the noodles more enjoyable.

    It wasn't until a new expression - “noodle harassment”,or “hu-hara” in Japanese - came out last year on social media that Japanese people started to realize that the slurping noise is making some foreign visitors uncomfortable.

    As a response, Japanese instant noodle maker Nissin introduced a so-called noise-canceling fork earlier this year. The fork, which looks like an electric toothbrush, is connected wirelessly to a smartphone. When the person using the fork starts to slurp, the fork sends a signal to the person's phone, making it play a sound to mask the slurping noise.

    “The fork is a solution to the 'noodle harassment' issue, particularly as the number of tourists visiting Japan increases,” said the company, according to Euro News.

    But is it really necessary?

    Dining traditions do vary. What's considered to be proper table manners in one country is likely to be seen as rude in another. In India, for example, people eat with their hands because they think in this way they build a connection with the food. However, people who are used to eating with utensils（餐具）might find it uncomfortable to get their hands covered with oil and bits of food. But this eating method is part of India's culture, just like Japan's slurping is part of its own.

    “So, if you are eating noodles, whether that's ramen（拉面）, udon（乌冬面）, or soba（荞麦面）, please slurp,” wrote the reporter Brian Ashcraft on blog Kotaku. “If anyone gets annoyed while you are doing that, pay them no mind because they're missing the point entirely.”

    When I was a little girl, I remember that when my dad was repairing something, he would ask me to hold the hammer, so we would have time for a conversation with each other. I never saw my dad drinking or taking a night out. All he did after work was taking care of his family.

    I grew up and left home for college and since then, my dad had been calling me every Sunday morning. And when I bought a house several years later, my dad painted it by himself in the fierce summer heat. All he asked was to talk to him, but I was too busy in those days.

    Four years ago, my dad visited me. He spent many hours putting together a swing for my daughter. He asked me to have a talk with him, but I had to prepare for a trip that weekend.

    One Sunday morning we had a telephone talk as usual. I noticed that my dad had forgotten some things that we discussed lately. I was in a hurry, so our conversation was short. Several hours later that day I received a call. My father was in the hospital. Immediately I bought a plane ticket and on my way I was thinking about all the occasions I missed to have a talk with my dad. By the time I arrived at the hospital, my father had passed away. Now it was he who did not have time for a conversation with me. I realized how little I knew about my dad, his deepest thoughts and his dreams.

    After his death I learned much more about him and even more about myself. All he ever wanted was my time. And now he has all my attention every single day.

    Weighing too much can damage your health, and obesity is a growing problem for both kids and adults around the world. Sleep might be one answer to the problem. A new study has found that elementary school students who slept too little were more likely to gain pounds.

    Past studies have shown a link between sleeping less and weighing more, but scientists have had a tough time determining "which came first, the chicken or the egg," says Julie C. Lumeng of the university of Michigan in Ann Arbor. In other words, it hasn't been clear whether kids who weigh too much have trouble sleeping, or whether sleeping less leads to weight gain. Both scenarios (可能出现的情况) seemed equally possible.

    To get a better idea of which causes which, Lumeng and her colleagues interviewed the parents of 785 third graders from around the United States. The parents answered questions about how well their kids slept that year. Three years later, the parents answered the same questions. By sixth grade, 18percent of kids involved in the study were obese.

    The scientists found no relationship between weight and the students' race or gender. It also didn't matter how strict their parents were, or whether they were boys or girls. Obesity struck all of these groups equally. Instead, sleep seemed to be the key factor. Over the three years of study, the children averaged a healthy 9. 5 hours of sleep a night. Some kids, however, slept a lot more or less than others.

    For the sixth graders, every hour of sleep above the 9. 5houraverage was linked to a 20 percent lower risk of being obese. Sleep appeared doubly important for the third graders. Every extra hour of sleep they got was linked to a 40 percent drop in obesity.

    For over 70 years, UNICEF has been putting children first, working to protect their rights and provide the assistance and services they need to survive and develop all over the world.

    It's the end-of-year giving season, and UNICEF has lots of good news to share about the influence its supporters have had on the lives of children. Thanks to its generous donors, UNICEF has helped save more lives than any other humanitarian organization.

    Monthly donors are a major reason why UNICEF can make that claim, according to Karla Coello, UNICEF USA Senior Director for Monthly Giving. “Last year, UNICEF responded to 377 humanitarian emergencies, from conflicts to natural disasters,” says Coello. “Emergency appeals bring in important revenue - but after the emergency, there are still a lot of things children need to make life bearable. That's what our monthly donors provide.”

    When drought destroys crops, conflict forces families from their homes, an epidemic breaks out or a disaster strikes, children suffer most. And in some countries, even the best of times are dangerous for its youngest citizens. Every day more than 15,000 children under 5 die from preventable causes.

    Protecting children before, during and after a crisis requires a reliable source of funding. The constant stream of revenue provided by monthly donations enables UNICEF to reach children with what they need most when they need it, prepositioning emergency supplies before a disaster strikes and continuing to build sustainable solutions after an immediate crisis has subsided.

    Monthly giving is also important to funding large-scale interventions(介入). Thanks to UNICEF's global immune campaigns, the world is now nearly free of polio(小儿麻痹症)and there are only 14 countries where mothers and children still face maternal and neonatal tetanus(破伤风)deadly threat. And UNICEF programs in 120 countries are helping to prevent and treat malnutrition, which is linked to nearly half of all deaths of children under 5.

    “UNICEF USA monthly donors are our most engaged, most dedicated supporters,” says Rebecca Volpe, UNICEF USA Manager, Monthly Giving. “So we do our best to make them feel appreciated by keeping them thoroughly updated about the powerful impact they are having and showing them how much they matter to us.” In turn, monthly donors tend to be dedicated supporters. “Protecting children - giving them opportunities to play, learn, feel safer, heal - is critical to us,” explained a survey respondent, expressing a commitment to children that UNICEF USA's Monthly Giving team sees every day.

    Supporters who sign up with UNICEF USA to give monthly automatically become members of the Guardian Circle, which affords them benefits, including:

    Annual statements to make tax time easier

    An easy-to-use donor access that simplifies modifying gift amounts, updating payment methods and making other changes, including the timing of donations with the option to cancel at any point

    Targeted communications in the form of monthly statements and a quarterly 8-page newsletter with stories from the field.

    A team available to answer questions via email or phone.

    “We have some donors who are on fixed income, others who can afford to make considerable monthly donations," says Coello. “Whether you give $5 or $700 a month, you are super important to us. What's important is that they all really want to give and help children. And that's amazing.”

    It can be time-consuming and difficult to track charitable donations. At end of year, Guardian Circle monthly supporters receive one statement that makes filing tax returns easier - and it's always delightful to see how much good has been done for the world's most vulnerable(受伤害的)children.

    On one occasion, while visiting my parents, I happened to meet the little boy who lived next door. It was obvious that his mother had told him not to come over uninvited. He was standing on the very edge of his yard with an anxious look on his face, seemingly about to burst.

    My father waved him over and performed the introductions. "Eliot, this is my son, Gary. Gary, meet my little friend, Eliot." To my delight, he reached out his small hand and I accepted the formality(遵守礼节) with a smile.

    Unlike most children, this teenager was not shy of meeting a stranger. As a matter of fact, he turned out to be quite a chatterbox. Eliot had me laughing as I listened to the excitement in his voice. for, as you know, it was a big deal to find a toad (蟾蜍)! His descriptions were priceless as I asked the obvious questions concerning the capture(捕捉). He was pleased that I showed interest in his adventure and gladly explained its details.

    Since Eliot seemed so willing to invest in our budding friendship, I asked him a question, "Do you like banjo music?" He got very excited and answered me with a hearty "Yes!"

    I took out my banjo from the car, but when I sat next to him and started playing, Eliot looked at me with a puzzled expression. He asked me "What's that?" in all seriousness.

    My dad and I smiled. The boy who just "loved" the banjo didn't recognize that I was holding one and that what I was playing was "banjo music".

    I realized that his heart was in the right place. Eliot just wanted to please his new friend with that "Yes", thinking it was what I wanted to hear.

    Well anyway...Eliot likes the banjo for real now. And I like Eliot.