One of the greatest contributions to the first Oxford English Dictionary was also one of its most unusual. In 1879, Oxford University in England asked Prof. James Murray to serve as editor for what was to be the most ambitious dictionary in the history of the English language. It would include every  English word possible and would give not only the definition but also the history of the word and quotations (引文) showing how it was used.

    This was a huge task, so Murray had to find volunteers from Britain, the United States, and the British colonies to search every newspaper, magazine, and book ever written in English. Hundreds of volunteers responded, including William Chester Minor. Dr. Minor was an American surgeon who had served in the Civil War and was now living in England. He gave his address as “Broadmoor, Crowthorne, Berkshire,” 50 miles from Oxford.

    Minor joined the army of volunteers sending words and quotations to Murray. Over the next 17 years, he became one of the staff's most valued contributors.

    But he was also a mystery. In spite of many invitations, he would always decline to visit Oxford. So in 1897, Murray finally decided to travel to Crowthorne himself. When he arrived, he found Minor locked  in a book-lined cell at the Broadmoor Asylum (精神病院) for the Criminally Insane.

    Murray and Minor became friends, sharing their love of words. Minor continued contributing to the dictionary, sending in more than 10,000 submissions in 20 years. Murray continued to visit Minor regularly, sometimes taking walks with him around the asylum grounds.

    In 1910, Minor left Broadmoor for an asylum in his native America. Murray was at the port to wave goodbye to his remarkable friend.

    Minor died in 1920, seven years before the first edition of the Oxford English Dictionary was completed. The 12 volumes defined 414,825 words, and thousands of them were contributions from a very scholarly and devoted asylum patient.

    So many of us hold on to little resentments that may have stemmed from an argument, a misunderstanding, or some other painful event. Stubbornly, we wait for someone else to reach out to us―believing this is the only way we can forgive or rekindle(重新点燃) a friendship or family relationship.

    An acquaintance of mine whose health isn't very good, recently told me that she hasn't spoken to her son in almost three years. "Why not" I asked. 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 resisted initially and said, "I can't do that. He's the one who should apologize." She was literally(简直) willing to die before reaching out to her only son. 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 sincerely said sorry to her. 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 thing" into "big thing" 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 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 will 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.

    "I feel unlikable, lonely and hopeless," said Lisa, a bright teenager from a loving home. "It seems that nobody wants to become my friend. What's wrong with me?"

    Like Lisa, many of us experience loneliness. The truth is that all people, no matter what their age or character — even the most outgoing, wealthy and popular — experience loneliness at least sometimes. It's healthy and natural to want to be around people who care. After all, we've all heard "No man is an island." That's true. We all need others in our lives.

    Solomon, the wisest man who ever lived, explains that if we want friends, we must be friendly and reach out to others. But it has risk. Because we are often afraid of rejection (拒绝), many of us are unwilling to reach out to others. We take a safer way and wait for others to make friends with us. But if we want friends, we've got to get beyond this.

If making friends is your goal as well, you need to consider taking some measures (措施).

    Be willing to take the initiative (主动权). If you see someone whom you would like to know, don't wait for her to make the first move. Get close to her and begin a conversation. Let her know in a non­aggressive (无攻击性的) way that you are interested in being friends with her.

    Reach out to those who are lonely. When you see someone at school sitting alone, go over and talk to her. And don't let popularity decide whom you reach out to. You'll often be surprised at the beautiful qualities behind a shy appearance.

    Ask questions. Start your first conversation by asking this possible friend what she likes to do or asking about her family. Be sure to ask questions that cannot be replied with "yes" or "no". For example, don't ask "Do you have a dog?" Instead, say "So, tell me about your pets." Avoiding asking "yes" or "no" questions makes your possible friend not end your communication with a one­word answer.

    When I was a boy, our extended, immigrant family would sometimes gather at my aunt's tiny house over the summer. Relatives from all over the country would come in to visit. The adults would crowd together in the living room to talk and catch up on each other's lives. And the kids would be sent out into the front yard to play when dinner was slowly cooked for all of us.

    Those were the days before video games, smart phones, and motorized toys, so we often ended up playing an old game. I remember one of those moments especially. As I was the youngest and smallest of all the kids there, I got caught first and couldn't catch anyone else. My brothers and cousins were all too fast for me, and I grew more and more frustrated. I finally fell my face first into the dirt. I got up with tears forming in my eyes. Then I saw one of my female cousins Susan standing there. She started to run but was going much slower than before. I easily caught up and seized her. Then she turned to me, smiled, and said, I'm it! You'd better run! Iran off laughing with glee while she turned and started to chase others.

    Now I see how her act of kindness that day saved me from sadness and returned me to joy. It didn't matter that we hardly ever saw each other. I know we are family and she loves me.

    In her wonderful book: Box of Butterflies, Roma Downey writes, "We are all one, we all belong to each other, and we are one big beautiful family." Perhaps it is time that we all started to treat each other that way. Perhaps it is time that we shared our love, our kindness, our laughter, and our joy with everyone without fear. Perhaps it is time to finally and forever bring this world together in one big family reunion.

That night, when Aksionov was lying on his bed and just beginning to sleep, someone came quietly and sat down on his bed. He peered(看) through the darkness and recognized Makar.

"What more do you want of me?" asked Aksionov. "Why have you come here?"

Makar Semyonovich was silent. So Aksionov sat up and said, "What do you want? Go away, or I will call the guard!"

Makar Semyonovich bent close over Aksionov, and whispered, "Ivan Dmitrich forgive me!"

"What for?" asked Aksionov.

"It was I who killed the merchant and hid the knife among your things. I meant to kill you, too, but I heard a noise outside, so I hid the knife in your bag and escaped out of the window."

Aksionov was silent, and didn't know what to say. Makar Semyonovich slid off the bed-shelf and knelt upon the ground. "Ivan Dmitrich" he said, "forgive me! I will confess that it was I who killed the merchant, and you will be released and can go to your home."

"It is easy for you to talk," said Aksionov "but I have suffered for you these twenty-six years. Where could I go now?... My wife is dead, and my children have forgotten me. I have nowhere to go..."

Makar Semyonovich did not rise, but beat his head on the floor. "Ivan Dmitrich, forgive me!" he cried. "When they flogged(鞭打) me with the knot, it was not so hard to bear as it is to see you now... yet you had pity on me and did not tell. Forgive me, devil that I am!" And he began to sob.

When Aksionov heard him sobbing, he too, began to weep. "I will forgive you!" he said. "Maybe I am a hundred times worse than you." And at these words his heart grew light, and the longing for home left him. He no longer had any desire to leave the prison, but only hoped for his last hour to come.

In spite of what Aksionov had said, Makar Semyonovich confessed his guilt. But when the order for his release came, Aksionov was already dead.

The hens look up at me from their nesting boxes. They seem slightly annoyed but unsurprised. A child runs up, pushes one of the chickens aside, and snatches two eggs. Around me, a half-dozen more children and adults collect eggs while a half-dozen others hand-feed dried mealworms to birds flocking around our ankles. I reach for an egg from an empty nest. There is something perfect about the way it fits warmly in the palm of my hand before I transfer it into a pretty wire basket provided to me by my hosts. 

The egg harvest is a brief, carefully designed agritourism experience offering an experience of the labor rather than just having a bite of food. Snatching a few eggs and uprooting a few vegetables on the farm tour donˈt constitute a full dayˈs work, but it is also a useful reminder that food doesnˈt just magically appear on restaurant plates and grocery store shelves. Of course, visitors can take those eggs home or bring them to the on-farm restaurant, Clay, where a chef will use them to prepare breakfast. 

A few centuries of industrialization, urbanization, and globalization have collected people into cities, but the attraction of the countryside has always remained. In the new urban-centered world, enterprising farmers have found plenty of opportunities to sell their rural lifestyle along with their crops. Italy promoted the modern model for combining agriculture and tourism in the wake of World War Ⅱ, when the national government encouraged rural populations to continue producing food rather than move to urban areas in search of more profitable jobs. 

Agritourism acts as an umbrella term for a wide variety of activities that take place on farms, including farmstays, where guests sleep on-site. For varying investments of time, energy, and money, anyone can engage in our farming system, giving consumers a peek behind the farm-to-table world.