It was an autumn morning shortly after my husband and I moved into our first house. Our children were upstairs unpacking，and I was looking out of the window at my father moving around mysteriously on the front lawn. “What are you doing out there?” I called to him.

    He looked up, smiling. “I'm making you a surprise.” I thought it could be just about anything. When we were kids, he always created something surprising for us. Today, however, Dad would say no more, and caught up in the busyness of our new life , I eventually forgot about his surprise.

    Until one gloomy day the next March when I glanced out of the window，I saw a dot of blue across the yard. I headed outside for a closer look. They were crocuses (番红花）throughout the front lawn — blue, yellow and my favorite pink，with little faces moving up and down in the cold wind. I remembered the things Dad secretly planted last autumn. He knew how the darkness and dullness of winter always got me down. What could have been more perfectly timely to my needs?

    My father's crocuses bloomed each spring for the next five seasons, always bringing the same assurance: Hard times are almost over. Hold on, keep going, and light is coming soon.

    Then a spring came with the usual blooms but the next spring there were none. I missed the crocuses, so I would ask Dad to come over and plant new bulbs (植物球茎). But I never did. He died suddenly one October day. My family were in deep sorrow, leaning on our faith.

    On a spring afternoon four years later, I was driving back when I felt depressed. It was Dad's birthday, and I found myself thinking about him. This was not unusual — my family often talked about him, remembering how he lived up to his faith. Suddenly I slowed as I turned into our driveway. I stopped and stared at the lawn. There on the muddy grass with small piles of melting snow, bravely waving in the wind, was one pink crocus.

    How could a flower bloom from a bulb more than 18 years ago, one that hadn't bloomed in over a decade? But there was the crocus. Tears filled my eyes as I realized its significance.

    Hold on, keep going, and light is coming soon. The pink crocus bloomed for only a day, but it built my faith for a lifetime.

    It's not often you get information about a destination from a heavy metal band, but in Debrecen, Hungary's second largest city, locals are used to having to make a noise to get heard.

    Just off the historic center, Roncs bar is a pub that also hosts live music.  It has the atmosphere of a student party in an old building that might soon be knocked down.

    Roncs is owned by Hungary's best-known heavy metal rock band, Tankcsapda. Sometimes referred to as the “Hungarian Metallica", the band has taken a type of music that is famous worldwide and-through lyrics, album covers, and an annual New Year's party and concert-made it all about their home city.

    It's perhaps fitting that Tankcsapda should be seen as ambassadors for Debrecen-the city sometimes needs loud heavy metal rock music to get noticed. “Foreigners think that Hungary is Budapest and there's nothing else,” is a familiar saying on Debrecen's:streets.

    Debrecen has, at times, been more important than the current seat of power, with locals claiming it takes over in times of trouble.

    That doesn't quite add up.

    Debrecen survived an attack from the Mongols in the 13th century, the Black Death, 150 years of struggle against the Ottomans and numerous conflicts, and yet it has still only briefly been the country's capital twice. This happened for the first time after a short-lived revolution in 1849, and for a second time at the end of World War II.

    Today, Debrecen may not be well known to tourists, but that only adds to the charm of this relaxed city. It's a small place; the historical center is sized for strolling (散步) and regular cafe stops. There's also a view of Debrecen's mix of architectural styles, a result of the frequent large fires that back in the 19th century led the city's students to form one of Europe's first-ever fire brigades (消防队).

    You can also see traditional weathercocks from the rooftops, featuring Islamic star and crescent moon symbols that once advertised to Ottoman invaders that the city preferred trading to fighting.

    Trade meant that Debrecen's skilled people became very successful and the city became famous for-among other things-fine foods, hats and clay pipes. In the early 19th century, 10 million clay pipes were reportedly made a year, with thousands bought for Britain's navy.

    Being physically active three times a week reduces the odds of being depressed by about 16%, according to new UCL research carried out as part of the Public Health Research Centre.

    The study, published in JAMA Psychiatry, found a two-way relationship between depression and physical activity. People who increased their weekly activity were reported to have fewer depressive symptoms but those with more depressive symptoms were less active, particularly at younger ages.

    Researchers followed 11,135 people born in 1958 up until the age of 50, recording depressive symptoms and levels of physical activity at regular intervals in adulthood. They found that each additional activity period per week reduced odds of depression by 6%. In England 19% of men and 26% of women are currently classed as "inactive", and this study suggests that activity could significantly improve their mental as well as physical health.

    "Assuming the association is causal, physical activity has a protective effect against depression. If an adult between his twenties and forties who isn't physically active became active 3 times per week, he would reduce his risks of depression by about 16%," said Dr Snehal of the UCL Institute of Child Health, lead author of the study.

    Professor Mark，Director of the Public Health Research Centre, said: "Many people are already aware of the benefits of physical activity on their general health, but now we are seeing more evidence that suggests it also has a positive effect on a person's mental well-being. The latest research highlights just how important it is to ensure that people are working and living in environments that allow them to be both physically active and mentally healthy."

    In 2012 my wife and I decided to open our bookstore in spite of unfavorable situations. The challenges facing small bookstores were-and remain-significant. Apart from the obvious rise in online selling, the increase in the popularity of e-books has negatively affected independent providers.

    The question is why a new, small-scale（小规模的）provide would voluntarily enter such a challenging market? From a personal view, our reasoning was sound: we wanted to share our love of great books and reading for pleasure with as many like-minded people as possible.

    Having done our homework, one thing became clear. In order for us to succeed, we would have to offer something that none of our larger competitors already provided. And so we started the Willoughby Book Club. We set up our website in the summer of 2012, and we haven't looked back.

    The idea of service is simple. We offer a range of book subscription gift packages, available in three-month, six-month and 12-month options. Our customers choose a package, tell us a little about the person they're buying it for, and we use this information to send the receiver a hand-picked, gift-wrapped book once a month. We also recently decided to give one new book to Book Aid International for every gift subscription sold. These books are sent out to sub-Saharan Africa, supporting the educational work there. Within four months of starting out, we won the Young Bookseller of the Year Award at the 2013 Bookseller awards.

    Our brief journey from new booksellers to award receivers has been challenging and rewarding. The biggest thing we've learned is that, despite the pressures facing independent providers, there is a place for them in the UK market. It's just a question of finding it.

    Twenty years ago, I drove a taxi for a living. One night I went to pick up a passenger at 2:30 a.m. When I arrived to collect, I found the building was dark except for a single light in a ground floor window.

    I walked to the door and knocked, "Just a minute," answered a weak, elderly voice. After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her eighties stood before me. By her side was a small suitcase.

    I took the suitcase to the car, and then returned to help the woman. She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the car.

    She kept thanking me for my kindness. "It's nothing," I told her. "I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother treated."

    "Oh, you're such a good man." She said. When we got into the taxi, she gave me an address, and then asked, "Could you drive through downtown?"

    "It's not the shortest way," I answered quickly.

    "Oh, I'm in no hurry," she said. "I'm on my way to a hospice(临终医院). I don't have any family left. The doctor says I don't have very long."

    I quietly reached over and shut off the meter(计价器).

    For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked, the neighborhood where she had lived, and the furniture shop that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.

    Sometimes she'd ask me to slow down in front of a particular building and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.

    At dawn, she suddenly said," I'm tired. Let's go now."

    We drove in silence to the address she had given me.

    "How much do I owe you?" she asked.

    "Nothing." I said.

    "You have to make a living," she answered. "Oh, there are other passengers," I answered.

    Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto e tightly. Our hug ended with her remark, "You gave an old woman a little moment of joy."

Racing is nothing new for Sebastian Rosado. He was born with cerebral palsy (脑瘫), which affects a person's ability to move. Though most of his life has been limited to a wheel-chair, he has done at least one race a year since 2011.

It was about a decade ago that his mother, Jaime, was training for a race in Puerto Rico, and Sebastian asked if he could accompany her. She'd have to push him in the wheelchair because his arm functions are limited, and she was okay with that. However, the race wouldn't allow it. Then, Sebastian's family decided to make a special race for children like Sebastian. The race gives them a chance to prove that despite being told from a young age that they might not be able to do some things in their lives, they can also become what they wish to be in life.

Sebastian has run it every year using a special walker. Each year, he tries to outdo his previous goal. Instead of just 5 km in 2020, he wanted to attempt to run 21 km over 30 days. Sebastian's plan is to complete the distance by May 9, accounting for completing 1 km, at most, in a day.

Sebastian used to train in a track and field facility close to home, and it's amazing to hear runners telling him things like, "Wow , sometimes I don't have the strength to train but when I see you doing this, I feel that I have no excuse," 62 swimmers are joining Sebastian's challenge this month by swimming 800 meters each one.

Sebastian has a saying that your disability is not in your body, but in your mind. It's really powerful. If you promise yourself you'll do something, you can achieve it by using your mind.