Dear Sir,

    I am writing to express my concern about the plans to build a motorway near our village.

    Haldersham is one of the loveliest villages in England. It is peaceful and quiet, and it is situated in a very attractive valley. There are also several beautiful countryside walks in the surroundings, with a view of many rare trees and plants.

    Most of the people who live in Haldersham have moved here from other places, often from London and other big cities. They have bought houses here to live in a place far away from the noise and the stress of the big city. They paid a lot of money for their houses, but they knew they would get a high quality of life for it.

    If the planned motorway is built, life in Haldersham will change greatly. There will be a lot of noise around us, and nobody will want to go on the walks. House prices will certainly go down, because nobody will want to buy houses in a place close to a motorway. Haldersham will become an ugly place.

    I don't think any of the people living in this beautiful village want that, and we all believe exposure to noise pollution can have a direct influence on our health. So, let's all tell the politicians who support the motorway plans what we think about them!

Yours faithfully,

Hilary Riley

    Raised in a fatherless home, my father was extremely tightfisted towards us children. His attitude didn't soften as I grew into adulthood and went to college. I had to ride the bus whenever I came home. Though the bus stopped about two miles from home, Dad never met me, even in severe weather. If I grumbled, he'd say in his loudest father-voice, “That's what your legs are for!” The walk didn't bother me as much as the fear of walking alone along the highway and country roads. I also felt less than valued that my father didn't seem concerned about my safety. But that feeling was canceled one spring evening.

    It had been a particularly difficult week at college after long hours in labs. I longed for home. When the bus reached the stop, I stepped off and dragged my suitcase to begin the long journey home.

    A row of hedge（树篱）edged the driveway that climbed the hill to our house. Once I had turned off the highway to start the last lap of my journey, I always had a sense of relief to see the hedge because it meant that I was almost home. On that particular evening, the hedge had just come into view when I saw something gray moving along the top of the hedge, moving toward the house. Upon closer observation, I realized it was the top of my father's head. Then I knew, each time I'd come home, he had stood behind the hedge, watching, until he knew I had arrived safely. I swallowed hard against the tears. He did care, after all.

    On later visits, that spot of gray became my watchtower. I could hardly wait until I was close enough to watch for its secret movement above the greenery. Upon reaching home, I would find my father sitting innocently in his chair. “So! My son, it's you!” he'd say, his face lengthening into pretended surprise.

      I replied, “Yes, Dad, it's me. I'm home.”

    I'd like to share a story that happened when I was four. I remember it clearly. Our loving family dog was nearing the end of his life. My father picked him up and put him in a little bed we had made for him. Our dog, my companion, whom we had cared for, bit (咬) my father when he tried to help him. How could he? Why? I couldn't understand it. I didn't like him anymore.

    I hadn't thought about that story for a long time but something that happened last week brought it back to me. I went to speak with a friend. When I knocked on the door, I met an angry look and a few harsh (尖刻的) words. When the door was slammed (砰地关上) in my face, I stood there shocked, and in a rush, I was reminded of my dog bit my father 20 years ago or so. What brought that story back was that same feeling of betrayal (背叛).

    Both stories taught me something the next day. You see, when I got up in the morning and was told my dog had died, it became clear to me that he must have been in great pain. For him to have bitten a family member, he could not have been himself. Much the same for the other story when I learned that my friend's wife had just left him.

    We are all beings of our environments, our opinions and feelings. And all of those things can cause you to say and do things that can't be understood by those who are not in the same situation with you.

    If you meet someone either behaving out of character or acting in a way that doesn't seem to fit the situation, put out your hand and be patient when you think it is least possible for him to do so. You may turn around a story that has a sad ending simply by your actions.

    Telling fewer lies benefits people physically and mentally. Anita E. Kelly, study author and professor of psychology at the University of Notre Dame, employed 110 adults for her study. She divided them into two groups and asked one group to stop lying for 10 weeks. Lies included big ones and tiny ones—any false statements—but participants were still allowed to leave out the truth, keep secrets and avoid questions they didn't want to answer, etc. The other group wasn't given any special instructions about lying.

    It turned out that both groups reduced their lying, but those who were specifically told to tell the truth improved their health more. "We found that the participants could purposefully and dramatically reduce their everyday lies. That in turn was associated with significantly improved health," said Kelly.

    When participants in the no-lie group told three fewer white lies than they did in other weeks, they experienced, on average, fewer mental-health complaints and physical complaints. They were less likely to feel tense or sad and also experienced fewer sore throats and headaches. They also reported that personal relationships improved. Additionally, participants found themselves honest about their daily accomplishments, and they stopped making up excuses for being late or failing to complete a task, for example.

    "It's certainly a worthy goal to have people be more honest and interact with others in a more honest way,” says University of Massachusetts psychologist Robert Feldman. “That would be beneficial. I'm a little doubtful whether it makes us all healthier, but it may make us healthier in a psychological way."

    A thrilling polar competition between two adventurers to cross Antarctica alone, unsupported and unassisted had a happy ending with both explorers achieving the unprecedented feat (功绩). American professional athlete Colin O'Brady and British Army Captain Louis Rudd set off a mile apart at the same time on November 3, 2018, from the Atlantic coast with the aim to become the first person to ski across the remote continent alone.

    Louis Rudd maintained the lead at first. However, O'Brady caught up with Rudd on November10 and never let the British man get close to him again. O'Brady was the first to conquer the 930 mile icy land, arriving at the Ross Ice Shelf on the Pacific coast by way of the South Pole on December 26, 2018. The 33-year-old spent 54 days skiing the world's coldest continent while pulling a 300-pound sled(雪橇) with supplies.

    Instead of leaving the harsh environment after completing the historic adventure, the explorer set up a tent on the world's largest ice sheet and waited patiently for Rudd to complete the great undertaking. On December 29, just three days after O'Brady arrived, the British explorer finished his adventure, becoming the world's second person to complete the solo crossing of the frozen continent.

Rudd was not disappointed at being second since he never considered it to be a     "race". Besides, the 49-year-old British Army Captain had a more selfless motive for attempting the feat. He was doing it in memory of his friend Henry Worsley, who had introduced him to polar exploration. The disaster happened while Worsley was trying to cross the continent alone in 2016. Rudd said, "I didn't want to get drawn into a race. All that mattered to me was that I completed it, and that I skied solo and unsupported, carrying the flag with Henry's name on it."

    After spending a few days camping 10 feet away from each other, the two adventurers were picked up by a helicopter to the South Pole scientific research station.

    Many people, some even at a very young age, set the goal of graduating from college. One American woman in Texas waited a long time for her chance to reach that goal.

    The woman, 85-year-old Janet Fein, received her bachelor's degree (学士学位) from the University of Texas in December, 2018.

    Fein has had a full life. She raised five children and then had a career as a secretary (秘书) until she retired at age 77. But even then, she was not ready to take it easy and rest during a well-earned retirement. She decided to major in sociology (社会学).

    Fein grew up in the Bronx area of New York City. In high school, she just wanted to finish and get a job. After graduating early, at the age of 16, she went to work as a secretary.

    After getting married, she spent 18 years staying home with her children. She held several jobs throughout her life, including being a secretary at a Dallas hospital. That is the job she retired from in 2011. She received an associate degree (专科学位) in 1995. But she also wanted to earn a bachelor's degree. Fein took part in a state program that lets people who are 65 and older take free classes at public universities in Texas.

    She kept going to class even as her health condition worsened. During her studies, it became necessary for her to use a walker to get around and she needed oxygen (氧气) too. She also developed knee problems. So, Fein took online classes to finish the last part of her degree requirements.

    Renee Brown is one of Fein's care-givers. She says Fein has also inspired her. At 53, she plans to begin nursing school to further her career. Brown says Fein told her, "Renee, you can do it. If I can do it you also can do it, and you will feel so good about it. "