When I was a boy my father told me that he could do anything he wanted to. Dad said that he wanted to be the first to develop color prints in our city and so he did．

        When I was 16，Dad looked closely at the violin I played and said that he wanted to make one．He read about violin-making, and then became a violin-maker at the age of 43. He bought the tools and materials, opened a small store and set Mom up as the shopkeeper, while he worked at a local company. He retired from the company 17 years later and continued to make violins and other instruments.

        Dad often guessed why the Stradivarius violins sounded so beautiful. Some experts told him that it was the special varnish(油漆)that gave the instruments their beautiful sound．Dad argued that chemists could analyze the varnish—if that was the answer．

One of Dad's friends asked him which kind of wood was used to make violins．When Dad explained that the top was made of spruce(云杉), his friend said that he had all old piece of spruce which Dad might be interested in.

He worked for the next 12 months making a violin from the wood that his friend had given him. It proved to be an excellent violin and it would become Dad's masterpiece. He believed that the secret of the Stradivarius sound was in the wood itself.

        Later, the instrument was stolen, Dad's spirit was broken and he stopped making instruments. But he kept the music shop until he was 80 years old, selling guitars and violins.

        The violin has been missing for more than 25 years．Somewhere a musician is playing a late-20th-century violin with an excellent tone．The owner today may never understand why this Ordinary-looking violin sounds so much like Stradivarius．

    Is there a magic cutoff period when offspring become accountable for their own actions? Is there a wonderful moment when parents can become spectators (旁观者) in the lives of their children and shrug, "It' s their life," and feel nothing?

    When I was in my twenties, I stood in a hospital corridor waiting for doctors to put a few stitches in my son's head. I was asked, "When do you stop worrying?" A nurse said, "When they get out of the accident stage." My mother just smiled faintly and said nothing.

    When I was in my thirties, I sat on a little chair in a classroom and heard how one of my children talked incessantly, disrupted (打断) the class, and was headed for a career making license plates. As if to read my mind, a teacher said, "Don't worry. They all go through this stage, and then you can sit back, relax, and enjoy them." My mother listened and said nothing.

    When I was in my forties, I spent a lifetime waiting for the phone to ring and the cars to come home, the front door to open.

    My friends said that when my kids got married I could stop worrying and lead my own life. I wanted to believe that, but I was haunted by my mother' s wan ( 淡淡的 ) smile and her occasional words, "You look pale. Are you all right? Call me the minute you get home."

    Can it be that parents are sentenced to a lifetime of worry? Is concern for one another handed down like a torch to blaze the trail of human frailties and the fears of the unknown? Is concern a curse? Or is it a virtue that elevates us to the highest form of life?

    One of my children became quite irritable recently, saying to me, "Where were you? I've been calling for three days, and no one answered. I was worried!!!"

    I smiled a wan smile.

    Recently I read the Human Development Report. I couldn't help thinking about another problem which the world is facing--hunger. According to the report, 2,400 people are dying from hunger every day; nearly 13 million in southern Africa will be worried about their food supply because of earthquakes, floods or wars.

    In a word, hunger remains the biggest problem of the world today. It's strange to see that man can travel to the moon, but still doesn't know how to feed himself. You may ask, “Who steals our bread? The first thieves should be population growth, poverty and loss of rich farmland.

    In less developed areas like South Africa, the population grows faster than the crops. It is almost impossible for its government to feed so many people and provide education for them. So it is very important to control the population growth and protect their farmland in countries whose people are suffering from hunger.

    According to the report, the world's food production is enough to feed everyone if it is given away well. But the problem is that the developed countries are eating food that should be given to the poor. Although they are just using their own earning, the fact is that they are coldly watching others starving away.

    Luckily, some developed countries such as Netherlands, Norway and Sweden have done a lot to help those hungry people in African countries. We hope other developed countries will follow them.

    It's pleased to receive gifts from your loved ones. I have received many Christmas gifts over the years. But the best gift I ever received was presented to me by a stranger. I never even knew his name and I only had contact with him for less than 60 seconds. His Christmas present to me changed the way I had thought about people and Christmas.

    It was several years ago when my wife asked me to meet her at the local department store on Black Friday morning. They had advertised a child's bike that she wanted to purchase for our son. We stood with a very large crowd, waiting for the manager to blow the whistle. After a while, the whistle blew. It was like throwing a bucket of fish into a tank of sharks. I told my wife that if we obtained a bike, fine, but if we did not, I was OK with that too.

    As the shelf of bikes began to gradually decrease in size, I saw my polite opportunity to wrap my hands around the corner of one of the boxes. I lifted it off the box and suddenly felt some mild resistance. I looked up to see one of the largest gentlemen I had ever seen in my life. Threat was not the word to describe his presence. He was decorated with numerous belts of metal pointed leather around both arms and even his neck. Tattoos (文身) were an obvious passion of his.

    I started to return anxiously the box but he gently pushed it back in my direction and back into my hands. He then directed it into my shopping cart. He looked at me, smiled, and said, “Merry Christmas.” My wife and I went to the checkout, paid for the bike and went home. All the way home I was thinking that this moment was by far the best Christmas gift I had ever received. The kindness of a stranger that broke all previous views I may have had of stereotypes and prejudices. I will never forget the tenderness of a human heart in a simple act.

    Still seeking a destination for your weekend break? There are some places which are probably a mere walk away from your college.

    King's Art Centre

    A day at the Centre could mean a visit to an exhibition of the work of one of the most interesting contemporary artists on show anywhere. This weekend tees the opening of an exhibition of four local artists.

    You could attend a class teaching you how to 'learn from the masters' or get more creative with paint—free of charge.

    The Centre also runs two life drawing classes for which there is a small fee.

    The Botanic Garden

    The Garden has over 8, 000 plant species; it holds the research and teaching collection of living plants for Cambridge University.

    The multi-branchedTorch Aloe here is impressive. The African plant produces red flowers above blue-green leaves, and is not one to miss.

    Get to the display house to seeDionaea muscipula, a plant more commonly known as the Venus Flytrap that feeds on insects and other small animals.

    The Garden is also a place for wildlife-enthusiasts. Look for grass snakes in the lake. A snake called 'Hissing Sid' is regularly seen lying in the heat of the warm sun.

    Byron's Pool

    Many stories surround Lord Byron's time as a student of Cambridge University, Arriving in 1805, he wrote a letter complaining that it was a place of "mess and drunkenness". However, it seems as though Byron did manage to pass the time pleasantly enough. I'm not just talking about the pet bear he kept in his roans. He spent a great deal of time walking in the village.

    It is also said that on occasion Byron swam naked by moonlight in the lake, which is now known as Byron's Pool. A couple of miles past Grantchester in the south Cambridgeshire countryside, the pool is surrounded by beautiful circular paths around the fields. The cries of invisible birds make the trip a lovely experience and on the way home you can drop into the village for afternoon tea. If you don't trust me, then perhaps you'll take it from Virginia Woolf—over a century after Byron, she reportedly took a trip to swim in the same pool.