Today, I had the good fortune to join the students from East Silver Spring Elementary School in Maryland as they walked and biked to school in celebration of International Walk to School Day. I want to thank Principal Morrow and the entire ESS community for welcoming me so enthusiastically.

    Walk to School Day is a great opportunity for me to spend time with parents, kids, and teachers and to present our Safe Routes to School program and the First Lady Michelle Obama's Let's Move initiative（倡议）.

    As a father, grandfather and former schoolteacher, I know how important it is that we provide students with safe choice to get to school while promoting exercise and healthy lifestyles. That's why I've embraced the Safe Routes to School program so wholeheartedly since I became Secretary of Transportation.

    You know, we're looking at an increasingly sedentary（久坐的）generation of children. One out of every three kids in America is now overweight. And I admire the First Lady's effort to end this within a generation. Safe Routes to School is a natural partner for Let's Move. For more than 10 years, Safe Routes to School has been making it easier for students to walk and bike from home to school. And ESS, where I walked today, is one of the earliest schools to participate.

    We know this program has been enormously effective because of the steady increase in the number of kids walking or biking to school. And as we made our way down the street this morning I was reminded yet again of this program's extraordinary work.

    Look, walking and biking to school is good for students' health. It's good for the environment. And it's good for the entire community's quality of life.

Everybody wins when kids take Safe Routes to School.

    If you rent an apartment in Beijing, you also rent the landlord or landlady for at least a year. It's important you find a good match because you have to deal with them in the long term. For me, it was love at first sight with the elderly couple who owns my apartment.

    It was quite a tough trying to find the right apartment when I first arrived in Beijing. The apartments were either unsuitable or I find fault with the owners who looked indifferent at best and unfriendly at worst. But that all changed when the renting agent's car stopped in front of a hutong house in the heart of the capital.

    I saw an elderly couple, in their 70s perhaps, waving to me. They were warm and welcoming at first glance, and when I saw them attentively hanging up the curtains in what would become my bedroom, I was just about sold on the place and the owners!

    Chinese people talk about yuanfen, meaning fate that brings people together. Before I met my current landlords, I thought the concept of yuanfen was overrated. A generous landlady who liked me and wanted me to move into her apartment had used the term in reference to me. But it was this lovely couple that changed my mind about the concept.

    We have become accustomed to visiting each other at home. The couple's apartment is lovingly decorated, boasting a recent wedding photo of themselves taken in bridal wear. The landlord likes to smoke and sip tea, while the landlady takes great pride in her appearance.

    After three years, I dare say they treat me a bit like a "daughter", despite having two grown sons, one of them close by. They give me gifts of tea or clothes, and I bring them souvenirs from my trips. A match made in heaven, indeed!

    I never saw my father home from work late or ill, nor did I ever see my father take a "night out with the boys". He had no hobbies but just took care of his family.

    For 22 years, since I left home for college, my father called me every Sunday at 9:00 am. He was always interested in my life—how my family was doing. The calls even came when he and my mother were in Australia, England or Florida.

    Nine years ago when I bought me first house, my father, 67 years old, spent eight hours a day for three days, painting my house. He would not allow me to pay someone to have it done. All he asked was a glass of iced tea, and that I hold a paintbrush for him and talk to him. But I was too busy, for I had a law practice to run, and I could not take the time to hold the paintbrush, or talk to my father.

    Five years ago, my 71-year-old father spent five hours putting together a swing set (秋千) for my daughter. Again, all he asked was that I get him a glass of iced tea, and talk to him. But again, I had laundry to do, and the house to clean.

    The morning on Sunday, January 16, 1995, my father telephoned me as usual, this time he had seemed to have forgotten some things we had discussed the week before. I had to get to church, and I cut the conversation short.

    The call came at 4:40 am. That day my father was sent to hospital in Florida. I got on a plane immediately, and I vowed (发誓) that when I arrived, I would make up for the lost time, and have a nice long talk with him and really get to know him.

    I arrived in Florida at 1:00 am, but my father had passed away at 9:12 pm. This time it was he who did not have time to talk, or time to wait for me.

    In the years since his death I have learnt much about my father, and even more about every single day.

    While many Chinese watched movies at cinemas during the weeklong Spring Festival holiday, Zheng Wei explained the film The Spring Festival to an audience of visually impaired(受损伤的) people at cinema in Northern China's Tianjin.

    "Fireworks light up the dark on New Year's Eve, and children are playing in an open place covered with white snow, said Zheng to the audience, describing the visual elements of the movie while holding a micro-phone and a script.

    As the founder of "cinema for the blind" in Tianjin, the 55-year--old has insisted on brightening the dark world of the visually impaired in his own way for 11 years.

    Shao Yuxiang and her husband, who are both blind, are regular visitors of the cinema. She wore an elegant yellow sweater to attend the couple's significant "movie day".

    Since October 2007, the free movies, which are described through audio, start at 9: 30 am on the third Saturday of each month. More than 150 movies have been screened to more than 20,000 visually impaired.

    "The theater is equipped with lights a sound system, projector, and a big screen to give the blind a people so far complete and equal movie experience," Zheng said.

    In 2007, after having learned that a "cinema for the blind" established by Wang Weili had benefited many visually impaired people in Beijing, Zheng rushed to Wang's establishment for advice. Under Wang's guidance, Zheng built a new cinema in Tianjin and screened The Dream Factory by Chinese director Feng Xi-aogang. It attracted more than 50 visually impaired people from different districts and even suburban areas in Tianjin.

    Zheng always treats movie selections with seriousness He usually chooses Mandarin language movies with positive themes that reflect modern society. Special movies for certain Chinese festivals are also part of Zheng's selection criteria. "For example, The Founding of Republic is specially for National Day. Now, films for Spring Festival are on my agenda," Zheng said.

    The term "smiling depression" —appearing happy to others while actually suffering depressive symptoms—has become increasingly popular. In fact, many people who experience a low mood and a loss of pleasure in activities manage to hide their condition in this way. And these people might be particularly easy to suicide.

    While smiling depression is not a technical term that psychologists use，it is certain to be depressed and manage to successfully mask the symptoms. The closest technical term for this condition is "atypical depression: It can be very hard to spot people suffering depression because they may seem like they don't have a reason to be sad — they have a job, an apartment and maybe even children or a partner. They smile when you greet them and can carry pleasant conversations. In short, they often put on a mask to the outside world while leading seemingly normal and active lives. Inside, however, they often feel hopeless and down, sometimes even having thoughts about ending it all.

    People with smiling depression put on a happy face to the outside world, but they can experience a lift in their mood as a result of positive occurrences in their lives. Other symptoms of this condition include overeating, feeling a sense of heaviness in the arms and legs and being easily hurt by criticism or rejection. They are also more likely to feel depressed in the evening and feel the need to sleep longer than usual. With other forms of depression, however, your mood might be worse in the morning and you might feel the need for less sleep than you are normally used to.

    So how can they break this circle? A starting point needs to be known that this condition actually exists and that it's serious. Only when we stop ignoring our problems because we think they're not serious enough can we start making an actual difference. Then we can find purpose by taking the attention away from ourselves and placing it onto something else. Feeling that our lives matter is finally what gives us purpose and meaning — and this can make a significant difference for our mental health and well-being.

Perhaps you know them as "taters", "spuds", or "Kennebees", or as "chips", "Idahoes", or even "shoestrings". No matter, a potato by any other name is still a potato — the world's most widely grown vegetable. As a matter of fact, if you are an average potato eater, you will put away at least 100 pounds of them each year. 

That's only a tiny amount grown every year, however. Worldwide, the annual potato harvest is over 6 billion bags. Each bag contains 100 pounds of potatoes, some of them as large as four pounds each. Here in the United States, farmers fill about 400 million bags a year. That may seem like a lot of "taters", but it leaves the United States a distant third among world potato growers. Polish farmers dig up just over 800 million bags a year, while the Russians lead the world with nearly 1.5 billion bags. 

People eat potatoes in many ways-baked, mashed, and roasted, to name just three. However, in the United States most potatoes are devoured in the form of French fries. One fast-food chain alone sells more than $1 billion worth of fries each year. No wonder, then, that the company pays particular attention to the way its fries are prepared. 

Before any fry makes it to the people who eat at these popular restaurants, it must pass many separate tests. Fail any one of these tests and the potato is rejected. For example, only Russet Burbank potatoes are used. These Idaho potatoes have less water content than other kinds, which can have as much as 80 percent water. Once cut into "shoestrings" shapes, the potatoes are partly fried in a secret blend of oils, sprayed with liquid sugar to brown them, steam dried at high heat, then flash frozen for shipment to individual restaurants. 

So, now that you realize the enormous size and value of the potato crop, you can understand why most people agree that this part of the food industry is no "small potatoes".