On Christmas Eve, 1944, my grandmother urged my uncle, then 12 years old, to slip out of the concentration camp where they were imprisoned near 15 miles east of Vienna to go to Deutsch-Wagram. “People are charitable around Christmastime,” Grandma Lili said to her son, Gyuri. “Ask for some food. Anything they can spare. Tell them that we're on the edge of starvation. Tell them that your 3-year-old sister can not get off the bed because she's outgrown her shoes.”

    In the dark of that night, Gyuri secretly left the camp and walked nearly four miles to Deutsch-Wagram, the closest town. He happened upon a house and knocked on the front door. A woman opened that door. She was probably alone, her man far away, fighting in the war, her children asleep in their beds. The 12-year-old pieced together in German exactly what his mother had told him to say.

     “Come back tomorrow," whispered the woman. The next day, my uncle returned. The woman opened the door with a smile. She piled his hands with bread, clothing, a pair of shoes that her child had outgrown and a pair of socks. The woman had knitted warm socks for my mother. After putting on the socks and shoes that fit, my mother got off the bed in delight. Her ragged shoes were passed on to a younger child who was also living in the camp. They shared their unexpected harvest with the entire camp. It was a quiet celebration of human kindness around Christmastime.

    In April 1945, my mother, uncle and grandmother were liberated. And it was those very socks and shoes that my mother wore as she walked some 28 miles over two days to Bratislava on her walk to a new life.

    To the unknown giver, I thank you. In the desperation of a cold and snowy land, when many hearts were closed and death was more likely than life, especially for Jews, you gave them hope and comfort.

    Two of the hardest things to accomplish in this world are to acquire wealth by honest effort and, having gained it, to learn how to use it properly. Recently I walked into the locker room of a rather well-known golf club after finishing a round. It was in the late afternoon and most of the members had left for their homes. But a half-dozen or so men past middle age were still seated at tables talking aimlessly and drinking more than was good for them. These same men can be found there day after day, and, strangely enough, each one of these men had been a man of affairs and wealth, successful in business and respected in the community. If material prosperity were the chief necessity for happiness, then each one should have been happy. Yet, it seemed to me, something very important was missing, else-there would not have been the constant effort to escape the realities of life through scotch and soda. They knew, each one of them, that their productivity had ceased (停止). When a fruit tree ceases to bear its fruit, it is dying. And it is even so with man.

    What is the answer to a long and happy existence in this world of ours? I think I found it long ago in a passage from the book of Genesis which caught my eye while I was looking through my Bible. The words were few, but they became memorably impressed on my mind. “In the sweat of the face shall you eat the bread.”

    To me, that has been a challenge from my earliest recollections (memories). In fact, the battle of life, of existence, is a challenge to everyone. The immortal words of St. Paul, too, have been and always will be a great inspiration to me. At the end of the road I want to be able to feel that I have fought a good fight, I have finished the course, I have kept the faith.

    Even before my father left us, my mother had to go back to work to support our family. Once I came out of the kitchen, complaining, "Mum, I can't peel (去皮)potatoes. I have only one hand. "

    Mum never looked up from sewing. "You get yourself into that kitchen and peel those potatoes," she told me. "And don't ever use that as an excuse for anything again!"

    In the second grade, our teacher lined up my class on the playground and had each of us race across the monkey bars, swinging from one high steel rod to the next. When it was my turn, I shook my head. Some kids behind me laughed, and I went home crying.

    That night I told Mum about it. She hugged me, and I saw her determined look. The next afternoon, she took me back to school. At the deserted playground, Mum looked carefully at the bars.

    "Now, pull up with your right arm," she advised. She stood by as I struggled to lift myself with my right hand until I could get the bar with my other elbow (月寸）.Day after day we practiced, and she praised me for every rung (梯级）I reached.

    I'll never forget the next time, crossing the rungs； I looked down at the kids who were standing with their mouths open.

    One night, after a dance at my new junior high, I lay in bed crying. I could hear Mum came into my room. "Mum," I said, weeping, "None of the boys would dance with me."

    For a long time, I didn't hear anything. Then she said, "Oh, honey, someday you'll be beating those boys off with a bat." Her voice was slight and cracking. I looked out from my covers to see tears running down her cheeks.

    Then I knew how much she suffered on my behalf. She had never let me see her tears.

What is a boy?

    Between the innocence of babyhood and the seriousness of manhood we find a delightful creature called a "boy". Boys come in different sizes, weights, and colors, but all boys have the belief: to enjoy every second of every minute every hour of every day and to fill the air with noise until the adult males pack them off to bed at night.

    Boys are found everywhere—on top of, under, inside of, climbing on, swinging from, running around, or jumping to this and that! Mothers spoil them, little girls hate them, older sisters and brothers love them, and God protects them. A boy is TRUTH with dirt on its face. BEAUTY with a cut on its finger, WISDOM with chocolate in its hair, and HOPE of the future with a snake in its pocket.

    When you are busy, a boy is a trouble­maker and a noise. When you want him to make a good impression, his brain turns to jelly, or else he becomes a wild creature bent on destroying the world and himself with it.

    A boy is a mixture—he has the stomach of a horse, the digestion of stones and sand, the energy of an atomic bomb, the curiosity of a cat, the imagination of a superman, the shyness of a sweet girl, the brave nature of a bull, the violence of a firecracker, but when you ask him to make something, he has five thumbs (拇指) on each hand.

    He likes ice cream, knives, saws, Christmas, comic books, woods, water (in its natural habitat), large animals, Dad, trains, Saturday mornings, and fire engines. He is not much for Sunday schools, companies, schools, books without pictures, music lessons, neckties, barbers, girls, overcoats, adults, or bedtime.

    Nobody else is so early to rise, or so late to supper. Nobody else gets so much fun out of trees, dogs, and breezes. Nobody else can put into one pocket a rusty knife, a half eaten apple, a three­foot rope, six cents and some unknown things.

    A boy is a magical creature—he is your headache but when you come home at night with only shattered pieces of your hopes and dreams, he can mend them like new with two magic words, "Hi, Dad!"

Where am I? What am I doing? If you're one of my 500 friends online, you'll always be the first to know. My phone and laptop are never out of touching distance, so I'm endlessly checking through all my social networking apps - whether I'm having a coffee, on my way to school, watching TV. . even when I'm in the shower. I have a never - ending flow of messages and updates from all the people I associate with online. Yet the truth of the matter is: I feel lonely

I'm not the only person who feels this way. According to research, over two-thirds of young people find it easier to make friends online than it is "in real life". I'm a shy person, but I'm wired up (上线) every day, like most of my friends. On the surface, phones bring us closer together. But in reality, my mind is always a million miles away.

I often feel depressed, dissatisfied and alone. Since I spend so much time socializing online, I even become a procrastinator (拖延者). I keep postponing things that are important in my real life: homework, tasks, connecting with my friends and family members in a meaningful way. It's funny that my friends and I chatter away online so much, but we end up having nothing to say when we meet.

What is rally worrying is that no one I know, including myself. could go cold turkey. I can't even imagine going without social networking for a week - think of all the important appointments, invitations and news updates you would miss! Alcoholics (酗酒者) who want to quit drinking can avoid drinks, but how do we give up our phones? After all, I need it for my studies because my teachers and classmates need to contact me at any time. So, that's the problem with social networking. We're hard-wired in, but we're more disconnected than ever.

Located in southern Anhui Province, Mount Huangshan (黄山) covers {#blank#}1{#/blank#} area of 250 kilometers, of {#blank#}2{#/blank#} 154 square kilometers are scenic attractions. Its landscape features "four wonders" of imposing peaks, spectacular rocks, odd-shaped pines, and a sea of clouds. 

Mount Huangshan boasts 72 peaks, more than 1, 000 meters above sea level, with three main peaks rising majestically. They are both fascinating and {#blank#}3{#/blank#}(danger). Cliffs, stone forests, stone pillars, stone blocks and egg-shaped stones form the unique granite geomorphological(地貌的） scenery. 

The pines on the mountain are tall and have fascinating{#blank#}4{#/blank#}(shape). The famous Welcoming Guests Pine (Yingke Song) (1, 500 years old) and See-Guest-Off Pine have become a symbol of being faithful, unyielding(不屈的) and hospitable. More than 200 days each year on Mount Huangshan are misty and cloudy. The vapors coagulate(凝结）to form a sea of clouds. As the clouds cloak the mountain, they give a feeling of being in fairyland. 

Mount Huangshan has more than 400 famous scenic attractions of which 140 have been developed and opened to {#blank#}5{#/blank#}(tour). 

In 1990, Mount Huangshan went on both the world cultural {#blank#}6{#/blank#} natural heritage lists. Is it really so beautiful?