It was an unforgettable experience. We sat in a boat waiting for Ofai. He was swimming under water. There were many beautiful shells at the bottom. If he could ever find some and bring them 1, he would make a lot of money. It was a good and fast way to become rich. My uncle Harry was with us to take care of us. Suddenly I saw Ofai 2 his arms. Then I could see a large shark fish 3 under the water. All at once I was 4 and held my breath.

    “A shark!” cried my uncle. An anxious expression suddenly 5 on his face. He was thinking of how to save Ofai. We 6 at my uncle and waited for him to take7.

    The fish came near. Now we could see him better. He was of a yellow-brown color and as big as our boat. What could we do to help Ofai? He had been under water for more than an hour. So by now he must be very 8 and it was difficult for him to swim fast enough to 9 the trouble. Thinking that Ofai's life was at great risk, my uncle could 10 it no longer. Without 11 he took his knife and jumped into the water. Down he went after the man-eating fish. The shark was 12 straight for Ofai. Then, suddenly, the fish turned. My uncle's strong arm had 13 the knife deep into the side of the great fish. The water turned red as blood ran from the shark.

    Now Ofai had time to reach the top. At last he was safe in the boat. But the fish was 14. He turned to 15 the man who had hurt him. As he swam to my uncle, he opened his great mouth. Again the knife went forward. This time it cut deep into the shark's nose.

    For a minute the shark lay 16. Now Uncle was able to swim to the top. Ofai quickly pulled him into the boat. It wasn't long before the shark came to 17. He hit the boat with such a hard 18 that the sides were almost pushed in. We rowed as hard as possible and finally we were safe on the seashore.

    It was my uncle's 19 and ability that saved Ofai and all of us. We learned a lesson from this experience that courage 20 everything in time of great danger. We will always keep this experience in mind.

    Every year on my birthday, from the time I turned twelve, a bunch of white gardenia (栀子花) was delivered to my house. No card or note came with it.1to the flower shops were not helpful at all—it was a cash2.After a while I stopped trying to 3who the sender was and just delighted in the beauty and perfume of the white flowers in soft pink paper.

    But I never4 imagining who the sender might be. Some of my 5moments were spent daydreaming about it. My mother6to these imaginings. She would ask me whether there was someone for whom I had done a(n)7kindness and said that he/ she might be showing 8. Perhaps the neighbor I helped when she was9 a car full of groceries. Or maybe it was the old man10the street whose mail I helped to get during the 11so he wouldn't have to risk down his icy steps. As a young girl12 I tended to guess that it might be a boy who had noticed me a long time 13I didn't know him.

    One month before my high school graduation, my father died of a heart attack. My feelings ranged from grief to abandonment and fear. He was 14some of the most important events in my life. And I became completely15 in my upcoming dance in my graduation ceremony.

    The day before my father died, my mother and I had gone shopping for a dress. We'd found a splendid one, but it was the wrong size. When my father died, I16about the dress. My mother didn't. The day before the graduation ceremony, I found that beautiful dress, in the right size, on the sofa. I didn't17whether I had a new dress or not, but my mother did. She wanted her children to feel18and lovable, believing that there was a magic in the world and19in the face of hard times. In truth, Mother wanted her children to see themselves much like the gardenia—lovely20 and perfect with perhaps a bit of mystery.

    My mother passed away ten days after I was married. I was 22. That was the year the gardenia stopped coming.

    I often go to France to visit my grandmother who is very dear to me. She's now 76 years old, so every time I go to1 the two of us are very aware that it might be the2time we see each other for she has cancer.

    Last time I visited her in December of 2012. I did a series of short video3about her life. I asked her about her greatest memories and life learning so far, her 4books, food and stories. I learned a large quantity of amazing new things about her I5knew before.

    This year, I did not really have 6 only a great urge for her to know how much she is loved. I cooked for her and read her stories.

    Before leaving, I was7a way to leave something8behind besides the memory of our 9together. So I wrote her five different 10and gratitude notes to let her know how much she11to me, and hid them in different places where I knew she would 12find them. One under her pillow. Another one 13from the lamp cover by which she reads in the evening. Another one by her toothbrush. One in her14which she eagerly checks every day. And the last one on her car's steering wheel.

    I left 15knowing that these cards would surely 16her up after I left. She called me as I was departing for Paris to catch my plane back to the US and said, “I17your three cards! By the time I discovered the third card, I was laughing out loud!18 they did me so much good. Thank you so much!” I19to myself, knowing she still has two more to go! It was Sunday, so my 20was that she had not checked her mailbox and had not yet driven her car!

    Despite being married for over 17 years, Jeff and Angela Hartung are still going through the getting-to-know-each-other stage of their relationship. That's because, close to five years ago, Angela was 1 by a car while crossing a New York City intersection.

    "I do not 2 anything at all. I asked for my two 3 .I thought they were like 2 and 8 years old. They were 17 and 23 years old," said Angela.

    After the accident, Angela was 4 to recall about fifteen years of her life. When she woke up from her coma ( 昏迷), Angela thought she was still 5 to her first husband, who had passed away years ago, and she had zero memory of her present 6 , Jeff. Even after seeing their wedding album, Angela had no 7 who Jeff was. This left Jeff with a difficult  8—how could he 9 his wife's love for the second time?

    First, Jeff covered their house with photos, and reminders of 10 times before Angela's accident. He then 11  courting ( 求婚) her all over again .Most importantly, Jeff refused to leave Angela's 12 , even when she couldn't remember who he was.13, Jeff's efforts paid off and Angela 14 for him all over again. This called for some kind of 15 .

    In order to restart their 16 love story, Jeff and Angela retold their vows in New York City's Central Park. They 17 invited all of their closest friends and family members.

    Jeff truly feels 18 that he was able to earn his wife's love all over again. "I 19 believe that this happened for a reason," he said:"How many times have we said, 'I wish I could go 20 and do something over again?' I've gotten to do that."

Rediscovery

    I used to be a happy child with a loving family and many friends. I had a1 that could brighten a cold winter day and I had a special love for life.

    At twelve, my life had a huge breakdown. It was then that I2OCD (强迫症). I started to wash my hands ten times an hour, and I constantly3my kitchen oven to make sure that it was off. This way of life continued for four painful years, and by then, my OCD had led to depression (抑郁). I was no longer the4little girl I had been.

    In the tenth grade I finally5to my mother that I was suffering from depression along with my OCD. My mom took me to a doctor and I started taking6. Over a few months, the medicine did help the OCD, but I still was struggling with depression.

    One autumn evening, I hit rock bottom. I thought suicide (自杀) was the only7to my depression problem, so I decided to write a suicide note. As I was8it, my eyes fell on a photo. It was a9of an adorable little girl, wearing her red soccer uniform and holding a bike helmet. She had a bright smile that showed she was full of life.

    It took me a few minutes to10who the girl in the photo was. The photo had been taken when I was seven years old. I almost couldn't believe that smiling child was me. I felt a chill go down my spine (脊柱). It was like my younger self had sent me a11. Right then and there I knew I couldn't kill myself. Once I had been a strong little girl, and I had to become12like that again.

    I tore up my suicide note and13that I would not rely only on my medicine. I would have to fight the depression with my mind, too. I could make myself happy again.

    It has been two years since I14myself. The real reason I am healed is that I took action and refused to let depression15my life. I learned a lifelong16: Never give up. Everyone has challenges in life, but everyone can17. I am living proof of that.

    Now I am prepared for whatever18life may bring. I have a role model to19up to for strength, and who is guiding me20life. My hero is a seven-year-old girl, smiling back at me from a photo on my desk.

A grocery store in Ann Arbor, Michigan opened on Tuesday to the public. This is an artist's uneatable creation. The Plastic Bag Store presents shelves filled with items such as meat, eggs, cakes and so on, all of which are made from single-use plastics taken from streets and garbage.

The store at times during the day will be transformed into a stage for a series of short films in which puppetry(木偶戏表演), shadow play, and handmade sets are used to tell a story of how the overabundance of plastic waste we leave behind might be misinterpreted by future generations—and how what we value least may become our most lasting "cultural legacy (遗产)".

Theater and film director Robin Frohardt is the creative driving force behind the Plastic Bag Store. "I got the idea many years ago after watching someone bag and double-bag and triple-bag my groceries," Frohardt said on Tuesday. "I just was sort of struck by how much packaging was involved in our everyday lives. And it just seemed so unreasonable. I just thought, maybe I could set up a project to change it." Combining a real-life supermarket with film experience, Frohardt planned to use art and humor to question our culture of consumption and convenience and to show one of the greatest problems of our planet.

Plastic bags are created by fossil (化石) fuels and often end up as waste in landfills and the ocean. Americans throw away 100 billion plastic grocery bags per year. She hopes that she can continue to tour with the project and bring it to different communities. "My dream would be that this project will become unnecessary one day," said Frohardt.

 "Frohardt's work reminds us, with humor, to think not just about the next two weeks, but also about the next two decades and the next two centuries. What will remain hundreds of years later? We hope that our legacy will be plays rather than piles of plastics," said Tim Tompkins, President of Times Square Alliance.