My 16-year-old son, Anton, had gone to the local swimming hole． Most of the kids swim there, and there are plenty of rocks for them to use as safe harbors, so I had no fears for his safety．

    Still, the firefighter's first words "You need to come up here to the Stillwater River" made me catch my breath, and his follow-up words gave me relief: “Your son is OK．”

    When I got to the river, I immediately saw the firetruck, ambulance and Anton, wrapped with a towel about his shoulders, sitting quietly on a low platform of the fire engine．I hurried over to him． "You OK?"I asked．

    “Yeah,” was all he said． But my eyes begged for an explanation, I didn't get it from my son, however, who tends to play his cards close to his vest ．

    The story was this: A woman was being swept under water． Hearing the cries, Anton and his friend Tyler, without hesitation, swam out to her, and brought her safely to shore.

    In an age in which the word "hero" is broadcast with abandon and seemingly applied to anyone who makes it through the day, I realized the real thing in my son. The teens are stubborn and self-centered, but that didn't mean they have no desire to do good.

    Still shocked by my son's daring, I drove him home. Along the way, I tried to dig out some more information from him but he had precious little to say. The only words he said were, “What's for supper?”

    I spent some time alone that evening, thinking about the tragedy that might have been. The next morning, when Anton got up, I half expected him to tell me the story. But all he did was toast some bread, pull himself together, and head for the door to start a new day. Watching from the window, I was reminded that still water often runs deep.

    One day when I was 12, my mother gave me an order: I was to walk to the public library, and borrow at least one book for the summer. This was one more weapon for her to defeat my strange problem — inability to read.

    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.

    There were smiling children all the way. Clearly they knew at what time the train passed their homes and they made it their business to stand along the railway, wave to complete strangers and cheer them up as they rushed towards Penang. Often whole families stood outside their homes and waved and smiled as if those on the trains were their favorite relatives. This is the simple village people of Malaysia. I was moved.

    I had always traveled to Malaysia by plane or car, so this was the first time I was on a train. I did not particularly relish the long train journey and had brought along a dozen newspapers and magazines to read and reread. I looked about the train. There was not one familiar face. I sighed and sat down to read my 21^st Century Teens.

    It was not long before the train was across the Causeway and in Malaysia. Johore Baru was just another city like Singapore, so I was tired of looking at the crowds of people as they hurried past. As we went beyond the city, I watched the straight rows of rubber trees and miles and miles of green. Then the first village came into sight. Immediately I came alive; I decided to wave back.

From then on my journey became interesting. I threw my magazines into the waste basket and decided to join in Malaysian life. Then everything came alive. The mountains seemed to speak to me. Even the trees were smiling. I stared at everything as if I was looking at it for the first time.

    The day passed fast and I even forgot to have my lunch until I felt hungry. I looked at my watch and was surprised that it was 3:00 pm. Soon the train pulled up at Butterworth. I looked at the people all around me. They all looked beautiful. When my uncle arrived with a smile, I threw my arms around him to give him a warm hug. I had never done this before. He seemed surprised and then his weather-beaten face warmed up with a huge smile. We walked arm in arm to his car.    I looked forward to the return journey, by train.

    Stephen Hawking is one of the most famous scientists in this century. He was born in 1942. He's world well-known on space and time. Stephen was searching some very big questions, such as "How did the universe begin? How will it end?"

    Stephen was a student at Oxford University. He studied math and science. Then, at the age of twenty, he became sick. He was so young, but the doctors said to his family, "He has only two more years to live." As a matter of fact, the doctors were wrong – he didn't die. He can't walk but he uses a wheelchair. He can't feed himself and get in or out of bed himself. But he refused to give in to the condition. He talks with the help of a computer. After Oxford, Stephen went to Cambridge University. Three years later, in 1965, he became a doctor of philosophy(哲学).

    Because of his serious health problems, it was difficult for him to draw or to write. So he started to think in pictures. With this new way of thinking, he became one of the most famous scientists in the world. In 1981, he met the Pope(教皇) in Rome. They talked about his ideas. Then in 1988, he wrote his first important book, A Brief History of Time. It sold more than 5.5 million copies in 33 different languages. He was once invited to China, he impressed us with his self-confidence, humorous and witty(风趣的) conversation.(谈话)

    Working or learning in a foreign country can be a difficult experience. The hardest part of working abroad isn't finding a place to stay or learning the language. It's learning to overcome the culture shock.

    These things are part of everyday life, and include many signs, gestures, facial expressions, and customs. When we enter a new culture, these cues (提示)are usually not present or so different that they're no longer understandable to us.

    "When a person enters a foreign culture," wrote Oberg, "all or most of these familiar cues are eliminated. He or she is like a fish out of water. No matter how broad-minded he or she may be, lots of props(支柱) have been knocked out from the environment."

    This is what happened to Lara, a young IT consultant (顾问) from America moved last year to their company in southern Europe. Three weeks after she arrived in Europe. Lara sent a desperate e-mail begging to return home. "The people are so unfriendly, "Lara wrote ,"They eat at strange hours and I'm starting to get allergic (过敏的)to the local food. I can't get anything done because their way of doing business is so disorganized and so inefficient and I have a terrible skin itch because of the water. I want to come home! "

    What Lara and other IT consultants meet on their first assignment abroad is a culture shock. While you can't prevent the culture shock from happening, you can take some measures to cut down its effects.

For nearly two decades, a thin, sun-burnt postal worker could frequently be seen carrying packages along a dangcrous mountain trail in the Taihang Mountains.

The 10-kilometer-long route, which is between 20 centimeters and 1 meter wide, is known as the "cat road" by locals, meaning that it is so dangerous that only cats could walk on it. Whereas, Zhao Yuefang, a postal worker in Ewu township in Huguan county, Shanxi province, had to walk the route every day to deliver mail.

Every day at the crack of dawn, he would start his journey along the "cat road". From picking up the day's post to delivering it to villagers and returning along the same route, it took Zhao four days. During rainy and snowy seasons, the mountain road, part of which hugs the cliffs, would become slippery and dangerous. One day in the winter of 2003, the "cat road" was covered in thick snow and he slipped off the trail. Fortunately, he was able to stop his sharp descent by grabbing a tree branch and slowly managed to climb to safety.

By 2012, Zhao had walked more than 300,000 km and delivered over 800,000 pieces of mail. Born and raised in the deep mountains, Zhao truly understands the significance of mail deliveries to villagers. "They depend on the mail to keep in touch with the outside world," he said. "Their sheer joy written on their face while receiving any post struck me," he added.

In 2012, a 67-km-long tourist highway was built and gone were those days when Zhao risked his life to walk on the "cat road". But Zhao was even busier than before. "The number of packages I handle daily now exceeds the number I used to deal with in the past," said Zhao, adding that villagers are turning to online shopping and ordering more and more goods by post.