Robert is nine years old and Joanna is seven. They live at Mount Ebenezer. Their father has a big property. In Australia they call a farm a property.

    Robert and Joana like school very much. At school they can talk to their friends, but Robert and Joanna can not see their friends. They live 100,perhaps 300,miles away and like Robert and Joanna, they all go to school by radio.

    Mount Ebenezer is in the centre of Australia. Not many people in “The Centre”, there are no schools with desks and blackboards and no teachers in “The Centre”.  School is a room at home with a two-way radio. When all students answer, lessons begin.

    Think of your teacher 300 miles away!

    Grammar is the system of a language. People sometimes describe grammar as the “rules” of a language; but in fact no language has rules. If we use the word “rules”, we suggest that somebody created the rules first and then spoke the language, like a new game. But languages did not start like that. Languages started by people making sounds which evolved (逐渐发展成) into words, phrases and sentences. No commonly-spoken language is fixed. All languages change over time. What we call “grammar” is simply a reflection (反映) of a language at a particular time.

    Do we need to study grammar to learn a language? The short answer is “no”. Very many people in the world speak their own, native language without having studied its grammar. Children start to speak before they even know the word“grammar”. But if you are serious about learning a foreign language, the long answer is “yes, grammar can help you to learn a language more quickly and more efficiently.” It's important to think of grammar as something that can help you, like a friend. When you understand the grammar (or system) of a language, you can understand many things yourself, without having to ask a teacher or look in a book.

So think of grammar as something good, something positive, something that you can use to find your way—like a signpost(路标) or a map.

    Except invented languages like Esperanto（世界语）. And if Esperanto were widely spoken, its rules would soon be very different.

    Sonya and her family have been homeless since she was 3 years old. Over the years, they have moved more than 15times to different shelters around New York City. Moving around was hard on Sonya。At school, Sonya hid her homeless from teachers and other students. She didn't want to be treated differently from other kids.

    In sixth grade, Sonya discovered a way to deal with some of her stress. She began studying dance at her middle school. “IT was a way for me to express myself, instead of just holding everything in,”she explains. Soon, Sonya auditioned（试演）for a summer dance camp run by Alvin Alley, a famous dance company. She was accepted. “I was excited,”says Sonya.

    Dancing became an even more important part of Sonya's life in high school. But things were not going well for Sonya at school. Each time her family moved to a new shelter, Sonya often took care of her younger sisters and brothers. She helped them get ready in the morning and took them to school. They would be on time, but Sonya would be late.

    Worrying about her family kept Sonya from thinking about her own future. That changed the summer after 11^th grade. Sonya learned she would have to go to summer school to graduate. She became determined to succeed, no matter what. “It was a wake-up call,”she says.“I had to focus on school and on myself.”

    Sonya made up the work that she had missed, and finally graduated from high school. No one in her family had gone to college before. But in September 2015, Sonya enrolled in the State University of New York at Potsdam. She plans to become a doctor for kids and to teach dance to children who have disabilities.

    Medicine is the most noble of all the arts, but owing to the ignorance of those who practice it, and those who inconsiderately form a judgment of them, it is now far behind all the other arts. Their mistake appears to me to arise principally from the fact that there is no punishment for the practice of medicine except disgrace, and that does not hurt those who are familiar with it. Such persons are like the figures introduced in tragedies, for as they have the shape, and dress, and appearance of an actor, but are not actors, so also physicians are many in title but very few in reality.

    Whoever is to acquire a competent knowledge of medicine ought to process the following advantages: a natural character; instruction; a favorable position for the study; early tuition; love for labor; leisure. First of all, a natural talent is required, for Nature leads the way to what is most excellent; then instruction in the art takes place, which the student must try to adopt by reflection, becoming an early pupil in a place well adapted for instruction. He must also bring to the task a love of labor and perseverance to ensure the instruction takes root.

    Instruction in medicine is like the culture of the productions of the earth. For our natural character, is, as it were, the soil; the principals of our teacher are, as it were, the seed. Instruction in youth is like the planting of the seed in the ground at the proper season. Diligent study is like the cultivation of the fields; and it is time which passes on strength to all things and brings them to maturity

    Having brought all these essentials to the study of medicine, and having acquired a true knowledge of it, we shall thus, in travelling around, be respected physicians not only in name but in reality. Inexperience is a bad trait, and does harm to those who possess it, nurturing either timidity or audacity(胆大安为). For timidity reveals a want of powers, and audacity a lack of skill. Physicians who are eager for power or those who are undertrained are not a blessing to a community.

    Those things which are sacred or noble, are to be delivered only to sacred persons; and it is wrong to import them to the profane until they have been initiated in the mysteries of the science.

    Paris is the city of dreams. If you plan to head to Paris for a study period, then perhaps a little reality check is in order. But my experience was a romantic one.

    I paved my path to Paris through an exchange program. On arrival in Paris, I was constantly reminded of the official processes I had to complete — forms to be filled in, meetings to attend, the list seemed endless.

    Then the real work began. Once classes were underway, I found myself volunteering to do oral presentations and assignments first, rather than last. This method proved to be very helpful.

    Once I had finished class for the week, I had an ever-increasing list of museums to visit, neighborhoods to explore, and cafés to sit in. Read books about Paris. Talk to locals and other foreigners living there. But the one thing that reading a book or talking to someone cannot do is to provide you with the experience of wandering Paris on foot. The people watching, the sounds of the city, the colors as the seasons change, they all add to the ecstasy that I experience in Paris as an exchange student.

    After spending five months wandering through the charming neighborhoods, I fell in love with the atmosphere that came out from every open door, and with every spoken word. There is something comforting about walking to the market each Sunday to enjoy the beautiful display of fruits, vegetables and dairy products. There is warmth in saying bonjour to the passers-by.

    On my last day in Paris, I confidently said, "Bonjour Monsieur," as I passed the little store down the street. I guess the best part about going on exchange in Paris is falling in love with the city in your own way. And I know mine is unique and special to me, my own little pieces of Paris.

    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. Iran 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" (奇迹般的) 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.