Having experienced a shocking electrical accident, which caused him to become both blind and deaf, James Franco's world became completely dark and quiet for almost ten years. The loss of sight and hearing threw him into such sorrow that he tried a few times to put an end to his life. His family, especially his wife, did their best to tend and comfort him and finally he regained the will to live.

    One hot summer afternoon, he was taking a walk with a stick near his house when a thunderstorm started all at once. He stood under a large tree to avoid getting wet, but he was struck by the lightning. Witnesses thought he was dead but he woke up 20 minutes later, lying face down in muddy water. He was trembling badly, but when he opened his eyes, he could hardly believe what he saw: a tree and a muddy road. When Mrs. Franco came running up to him, shouting to their neighbors to call for help, he could see her and hear her voice for the first time in nearly ten years.

    The news of James regaining his sight and hearing quickly spread and many doctors came to examine him. Most of them said that he regained his sight and hearing from the shock he got from the lightning. However, none of them could give a compellent answer as to why this should happen. The only reasonable explanation given by one doctor was that, since James lost his sight and hearing as a result of a sudden shock, perhaps, the only way for him to regain them was by another sudden shock.

    Tu Youyou, an 84-year-old female scientist, became the first Chinese to win a Nobel Prize in science on Oct 5. Before that, she ever won the 2011 Lasker Award for finding out artemisinin (Qinghaosu), which saved millions of lives. She was thankful for the Lasker prize, but said, “It is just a scientist' duty. I will go on fighting for the health of all humans.”

    Tu kept her work in the 1960s and 1970s. In that age, Malaria could took away people's health. Scientists all over the world had already tried over 240 000 times but failed. Tu Youyou, a member of the Academy of Traditional Chinese Medicine, Beijing, began to study Chinese herbs.

    Before 2011, people didn't know Tu very much. Many friends played jokes with her “the Professor of Three None's” : no degree, no study experience abroad, not a member of any Chinese national colleges. But she is hard-working. She read a lot of traditional Chinese medicine books and did a lot of researches on the disease.

    In February, 2012, Tu was named National Outstanding Females (One of the Ten) Tu is now a model of Chinese medical workers.

    It's OK to say you've never heard of grime (伦敦地下音乐) - unless you're from the UK. That's because this music type was invented in the UK in the early 2000s.

    To someone who's not familiar with underground music culture, it's easy to get confused between hip-hop and grime since they are both noisy. And many people didn't bother to tell them apart，until earlier this month when grime stars like Stormzy and J Hus led this year's Mobo – “music of black origin”, an award in the UK. Just like UK electronic music and hip-hop, from which grime drew influence, it mostly reflects the thoughts of young people. But different from hip-hop, grime singers sing in dialects with strong accents, giving a special flavor to their songs.

    Lady Leshurr，known as the “Grime Queen”, said that she once tried to hide her accent, as she didn't want people to judge her. But one day, she realized that she didn't need to change herself just to please others. And there's no doubt that this is the soul of grime music: be yourself.

    Grime has challenged modem music in its production beauty and its expressions. Also different from the hip-hop culture, which usually focuses on being rich, grime singers pay more attention to social phenomena like those who suffer from disasters and the gap between the rich and poor.

    Although still quite a young music type, grime seems to be getting loved by more and more people. In 2016, the English grime artist Skepta won the Mercury Prize with his album Konnichiwa, beating big names like David Bowie and Radiohead.

    However, no matter whether grime is one day accepted widely or not, one thing is for sure: in grime, singers always stay true to themselves.

    So many of us hold on to little complaints that may have come from an argument, a misunderstanding, the way we were raised, or some other painful events. Stubbornly, we wait for someone else to reach out to us—believing this is the only way we can forgive or rekindle a friendship or family relationship.

    A friend of mine, recently told me that she hadn't spoken to her son in almost three years. She said that she and her son had had a disagreement about his wife and that she wouldn't speak to him again unless he called first. When I suggested that she be the one to reach out, she said, “I can't do that. He's the one who should apologize.” After a little gentle encouragement, however, she did decide to be the first one to reach out. To her amazement, her son was grateful for her willingness to call and offered an apology of his own. As is usually the case when someone takes the chance and reaches out, everyone wins.

    Whenever we hold on to our anger, we turn “small stuff(问题)” into really “big stuff” in our minds. We start to believe that our positions are more important than our happiness. They are not. If you want to be a more peaceful person you must understand that being right is almost never more important than allowing yourself to be happy. The way to be happy is to let go, and reach out. Let other people be right. This doesn't mean that you're wrong. Everything will be fine. You'll experience the peace of letting go, as well as the joy of letting others be right.

    You'll also notice that, as you reach out and let others be “right” they will become less defensive and more loving toward you. They might even reach back. But, if for some reason they don't, that's okay too. You'll have the inner satisfaction of knowing that you have done your part to create a more loving world, and certainly you'll be more peaceful yourself.

    It was rainy, and I had no desire to drive up the winding mountain road to my daughter Carolyn's house. But she had insisted that I come to see something at the top of the mountain.

    So here I was, reluctantly making the two-hour journey through fog that hung like veils. By the time I saw how thick it was near the summit, I'd gone too far to turn back.

    Nothing could be worth this, I thought as I inched along the dangerous highway.

    "I'll stay for lunch, but I' m heading back down as soon as the fog lifts," I announced when I arrived.

    "But I need you to drive me to the garage to pick up my car," Carolyn said, "Could we at least do that?"

    "How far is it?" I asked.

    "About three minutes," she said, "I'll drive—I'm used to it."

    After ten minutes on the mountain road, I looked at her anxiously. "I thought you said three minutes."

    She grinned. "This is a detour."

    Turning down a narrow track, we parked the car and got out. We walked along a path that was thick with old pine needles. Huge black-green evergreens towered over us. Gradually, the peace and silence of the place began to fill my mind.

    Then we turned a comer and stopped—and I gasped in amazement.

    From the top of the mountain, sloping for several acres across the mountain side and valleys, were rivers of flowers in numerous colors. It looked as though the sun had tipped over and spilled gold down the mountainside.

    A series of questions filled my mind. Who created such beauty? Why? How?

    As we approached the home that stood in the center of the property, we saw a sign that read: "Answers to the Questions I Know You Are Asking."

    The first answer was: "One Woman—Two Hands, Two Feet, and Very Little Brain." The second was: "One at a Time." The third: "Started in 1958."

    As we drove home, I was so moved by what we had seen. I could scarcely speak. "She changed the world." I finally said, "one bulb (球茎) at a time. She started almost 40 years ago, probably just the beginning of an idea, but she kept at it."

    The wonder of it would not let me go. "Imagine," I said, "if I'd had a vision and worked at it, just a little bit every day, what might I have accomplished?"

    Carolyn looked at me sideways, smiling. "Start tomorrow," she said. "Better yet, start today."

Ida Nelson and her sister were relaxing and enjoying themselves in the sauna (桑拿室) when she heard a series of long low sounds from a small airplane circling the nearby airport.

It was 11:30 at night in the Alaskan village of Igiugig, population 70, and, as she told the reporter, "Any time a plane flies over that late, you know something is wrong."

Nelson and her sister leaped out of the sauna, ran to the window, and saw the problem: The airport's runway lights were out.

Nelson threw on some clothes, jumped into her ATV, and floored it to the airport, where she found a local pilot trying to turn on the lights manually.

"Normally, if you push the button 10 or 15 times, the lights will just light up," Nelson told KTOO out of Juneau. Not this time. Meanwhile, she and the pilot learned of the plane's urgent mission: It was a medevac (医疗救护直升机), there to transport a seriously ill local girl to the nearest hospital, 280 miles away in Anchorage.

Nelson had a plan. Driving her ATV to the end of the runway, she shone her headlights for the plane to follow. Great idea, but it wasn't enough. More light was needed, so a neighbor called nearly every home in the village—32 of them.

Within 20 minutes, 20 vehicles arrived at the airport, many of the drivers still in pajamas (睡衣). Following directions from the medevac pilot, the cars lined up on one side of the runway.

The medevac made its final approach and, guided by the headlights, landed safely. The young patient was loaded onto the aircraft, and the plane immediately took off again. Her illness was never publicly revealed, but she has since been released from the hospital.

In a world filled with uncertainty, the little community's positive activism was a big deal. Not so much for Nelson. As she told the reporter, in Igiugig, coming together "is kind of a normal deal."