El Nifio, a Spanish term for “the Christ child", was named by South American fishermen who noticed that the global weather pattern, which happens every two to seven years, reduced the amount of fishes caught around Christmas. El Nifio sees warm water, collected over several years in the western Pacific, flow back eastwards when winds that normally blow westwards weaken, or sometimes the other way round.

        The weather effects, both good and bad, are felt in many places. Rich countries gain more from powerful Nifio, on balance, than they lose. A study found that a strong Nifio in 1997 helped American's economy grow by $15 billion, partly because of better agricultural harvest, farmers in the Midwest gained from extra rain. The total rise in agricultural incomes in rich countries is greater than the fall in poor ones.

          But in Indonesia extremely dry forests are in flames. A multi-year drought (干旱）in south-east Brazil is becoming worse. Though heavy rains brought about by El Nino may relieve the drought in California, they are likely to cause surface flooding and other disasters.

The most recent powerful Nino, in 1997-98, killed around 21,000 people and caused damage worth $36 billion around the globe. But such Ninos come with months of warning, and so much is known about how they happen that governments can prepare. According to the Overseas Development Institute(ODI), however, just 12% of disaster-relief funding in the past two decades has gone on reducing risks in advance, rather than recovery and rebuilding afterwards.This is despite evidence that a dollar spent on risk-reduction saves at least two on reconstruction.

Simple improvements to infrastructure (基础设施）can reduce the spread of disease. Better sewers (下水道）make it less likely that heavy rain is followed by an outbreak of the disease of bad stomach. Stronger bridges mean villages are less likely to be left without food and medicine after floods. According to a paper in 2011 by Mr. Hsiang and co-authors, civil conflict is related to El Nino's harmful effects—and the poorer the country, the stronger the link. Though the relationship may not be causal, helping divided communities to prepare for disasters would at least reduce the risk that those disasters are followed by killing and wounding people. Since the poorest are least likely to make up for their losses from disasters linked to El Nino, reducing their losses needs to be the priority.

    It had been some time since Jack had seen the old man. College, career, and life itself got in the way. In fact, Jack moved clear across the country in pursuit of his dreams. There, in the rush of his busy life, Jack had little time to think about the past and often no time to spend with his wife and son. He was working on his future, and nothing could stop him.

    Over the phone, his mother told him, "Mr. Belser died last night. The funeral is Wednesday." Memories flashed through his mind like an old newsreel as he sat quietly remembering his childhood days.

    "Jack, did you hear me?"

    "Oh, sorry, Mom. Yes, I heard you. It's been so long since I thought of him. I'm sorry, but I honestly thought he died years ago." Jack said.

    "Well, he didn't forget you. Every time I saw him he'd ask how you were doing. He'd reminisce (回忆) about the many days you spent over 'his side of the fence' as he put it." Mom told him.

    "I loved that old house he lived in." Jack said.

    "You know, Jack, after your father died, Mr. Belser stepped in to make sure you had a man's influence in your life." she said.

    "He's the one who taught me carpentry. I wouldn't be in this business if it weren't for him. He spent a lot of time teaching me things he thought were important… Mom, I'll be there for the funeral." Jack said.

    Busy as he was, he kept his word. Jack caught the next flight to his hometown. Mr. Belser's funeral was small and uneventful. He had no children of his own, and most of his relatives had passed away.

    The night before he had to return home, Jack and his Mom stopped by to see the old house next door one more time, which was exactly as he remembered. Every step held memories. Every picture, every piece of furniture… Jack stopped suddenly.

    "What's wrong, Jack?" his Mom asked.

    "The box is gone." he said.

    "What box?" Mom asked.

    "There was a small gold box that he kept locked on top of his desk. I must have asked him a thousand times what was inside. All he'd ever tell me was 'the thing I value most'." Jack said.

It was gone. Everything about the house was exactly how Jack remembered it, except for the box. He figured someone from the Belser family had taken it.

    "Now, I'll never know what was so valuable to him," Jack said sadly.

    Returning to his office the next day, he found a package on his desk. The return address caught his attention.

    "Mr. Harold Belser" it read.

    Jack tore open the package. There inside was the gold box and an envelope. Jack's hands shook as he read the note inside.

    "Upon my death, please forward this box and its contents to Jack Bennett. It's the thing I valued most in my life." A small key was taped to the letter. His heart racing, and tears filling his eyes, Jack carefully unlocked the box. There inside he found a beautiful gold pocket watch. Running his fingers slowly over the fine cover, he opened it.

    Inside he found these words carved: "Jack, Thanks for your time! Harold Belser."

    "Oh, My God! This is the thing he valued most…" Jack held the watch for a few minutes, then called his assistant and cleared his appointments for the next two days.

    "Why?" his assistant asked.

    "I need some time to spend with my son." he said.

    I'm a real book lover. Every time my friends visit me, my nose is buried in a book. Wherever I go, I always have a book with me. Novels, history books, stories about people, journals and news­I read them all and I've learnt a lot, too. For example, many things in life happen for the best even if we don't like or understand them.

    Why is reading such an enjoyable pastime for me? I probably first learned about it from my parents. My mother read to me at night in my childhood and bought me picture books. The greatest gift she has given me is a love for reading. And it will be a life-long habit.

    No one ever asked me why I liked to read. They just saw me and asked, "Oh? Is that for school work?" And I just shook my head, "No. It's just for fun." While reading a good book, I can totally forget myself and fly to another world. It's like exploring through someone's eyes, which is just as exciting as watching a movie.

    Reading is also necessary in order to learn about writing, to improve my use of words and phrases and broaden my knowledge. What a pity to see our imagination disappear, for we don't exercise it often. Reading can even be good for one's health, I think. Everyone should read sad stories that make us cry and also books with humor that make us laugh out loud!

    Going back to school can be an anxious time for many students. But one institution in Texas is doing its part to make sure middle schoolers are returning refreshed and inspired to learn.

    Through a process called the "bathroom inspiration project," teachers and administrators at Warren Middle School, spent their summer beautifying the school's restrooms by painting motivational murals (壁画) on each of the stalls (小隔间).Forming messages like "Your mistakes don't define you" and "Scatter (撒播) kindness," the brightly colored words are exactly what a young student needs to see when having a rough day-or any school day for that matter. And now that classes are officially in session, people are already noticing a positive impact.

    Since posting photos of upgrades to the school in July, Principal Joshua Garcia says that the alterations have aroused a great response.

    "Students have been talking about the murals from the moment the pictures had been posted. Some even took the time to find a reason to come up to the campus to see the murals," he says." I think what makes this small little action so valuable is that it has set the tone for our campus."

    And not only is that important to students, parents, and fellow staff, but it is also vital for the school's new principal, who is trying to gain the trust of the community during a time in which trust is so necessary for schools.

    "Being new to the campus, I think the parents were able to see how much I value their children and have their best interest at heart," Garcia continues. "I have had many parents tell me how they can just feel a difference in the campus climate and how much they are enjoying seeing their children wanting to come here. These murals have put trust back in the campus and its teachers, and by doing so we are able to build a culture in which our students want to be here and learn."

    Nelle Harper Lee was born on April 28,1926. Since Lee's mother was mentally ill, she was raised by her father. She became very close to her father.

    The naughty Lee loved reading, and would make up stories with Truman, her neighbour who was two years older than her. Seeing her daughter's imagination, Lee's father gave her a typewriter.

Before her final year in the university of Alabama, Lee dropped out to become a writer. She moved to New York City where her childhood friend Truman was already established as a famous writer. While there, she worked on her first book—To Kill a Mockingbird. It won her the Pulitzer Prize in 1961 and was made into an Academy Award winning movie the following year. To Kill a Mockingbird tells the story of six-year-old Scout and her brother who lived in the town of Maycomb Alabama with their single father Attics. Attics is a lawyer who defends the blacks. At a young age, Scout is exposed to the terrors of segregation(宗族隔离)。Then, in 2014, the first draft of a new book—Go Set a Watchman was discovered among Lee's papers. It is the story of 26-year-old Scout who returns to Maycomb to visit her father. She is shocked to find her father a changed man. Attics has turned into a segregationists! The story shows the mixed feelings Scout has for the changes that have taken place in her hometown and father.

    A loner for most of her life, Lee stayed unmarried, preferring to lead a small town life. On February 19, 2015, Lee passed away at the age of 89.

    When I was about 12 years old, my older brother, James, smuggled a BB gun into the house. Our parents had told us many times that we were not allowed to bring home guns or knives, even if they were just toys. Having any form of weaponry in our home was strictly forbidden.

    James brought me to his room. He opened his closet door and took out a shoebox that was buried beneath a heap of clothes. The BB gun was inside. I was immediately enamored by the shiny barrel.

    "Can I shoot it, Jamesie?" I asked, hopefully.

    "Noway,"James said, taking it from me and putting it back.

    One day, when no one was home, I went into James' closet and took it out. For some in explicable reason - I have no idea what I was thinking - I went to the front window of the second floor in our row house. I cracked the window open. I pointed the gun outside and shot. I quickly shut the window and peeked outside.

    In a matter of seconds, old Mr. Schlosberg came out of his grocery store. He looked back at his store window. He looked up the street. He looked down the street. Then he looked straight across to our house.

    Thankfully, Jamesie made it home before Mother or Father.

    As he stepped through the door, I could hear old Mr. Schlosberg call his name. "James, James," he called. "Come here, son."

    After several minutes, James ran back across the street and into the living room. I had retreated into the kitchen. "Alma!" he screamed. "Get out here! You cracked Mr. Schlosberg's window with my BB gun!"

    "Oh, please, Jamesie," I begged. "Don't let him tell Mother. She will whip my bottom real good!" Jamesie sighed. He wiped my tears and went back across the street to Mr. Schlosberg's. I don't know what James said to that man, but there was never a mention of the incident again.

    Years later, I found out Jamesie had used the money he got from his newspaper route to pay for Mr. Schlosberg's cracked window. He only got one cent for every paper he delivered. He managed to pay back the debt just before he went off to fight in World War II.

    Since that day, I have never touched a gun: a BB gun, a water gun, a real gun, or any other type.