How could you be "just ahousewife" when the basic social unit of society depends on you and yourservice? A housewife works for the longest hour, supporting your husband, childstudies, caring for eld-ers, managing finances, paying bills, grocery shopping,cooking according to individual taste, cleaning, etc. A housewife could beanyone: daughter, wife, mother, teacher, financial advisor, fashion designerand nurse, gardener, driver, cook, and so on. Don't think you are not being paid for it.  You get the re-ward that no money canoffer-the love and affection of your family, their trust in you, ahappy home and your own satisfaction.

    It is you who choose to be in thisoccupation, willingly or for any other reason. After a busy day, all wait to return to the comfortable home set by you.They know you will be there to absorb all their stress and tiredness and relaxthem. Would the life have been the same had you been working outside to earnsome money? Would you along with your family have been able to buy all thecontent in life that you are enjoying now with that money?

    Respect yourself for what you are. Introduce yourself to the world with the same dignity. The world understandsthe importance of your job; it's time to make them accept it. Introduceyourself with pride and with twinkle in your eyes "I am a housewife".Kick that "just" out.

    Peter loved to shop used articles（物品）. Almost a month ago, he bought popular word game that used little pieces of wood with different letters on them. As he was purchasing it, the salesgirl said, “Uh, look, the game box hasn't even been opened yet. That might be worth some money. ”    

    Peter examined the box, and, sure enough, it was completely covered in factory-sealed plastic. And he saw a date of 1973 on the back of the box.       

    “You should put that up for auction (拍卖) on the Internet, and see what happens.” the salesgirl said.       

    “Yes, you're right. People like something rare.” Peter agreed, “I can't imagine there being very many unopened boxes of this game still around 40 years later.”       

    “Don't forget to tell me if you sell it.” the salesgirl smiled.      

    “No problem.” Peter said.       

    After he got home, Peter went online to several auction websites looking for his game. But he couldn't find it. Then he typed in the name of the word game and hit Search. The search result was 543 websites containing information about the changes of the game. Over the years, the game had been produced using letters in different sizes and game boards in different colors. He also found some lists of game fans looking for various versions of the game. Peter emailed some of them, telling them what he had.      

    Two weeks later, Peter went back to the shop.       

    “Hello. Do you still remember the unopened word game?”      

    The salesgirl looked at him for a second, then recognized him and said, “Oh, hi!”

    “I've got something for you,” Peter said. “I sold the game and made $1,000. Thank you for your suggestion.” He handed her three $ 100 bills.       

    “Wow!” the salesgirl cried out. “Thank you, I never expected it.”      

“How's it going? ” I ask the barista(服务生). “How's your day been?”

    “Ah, not too busy. What are you up to?”

    “Not much. Just reading. ”

    This，small talk, is one of the key rituals(规矩）of American life. It has taken me only a decade to master.

    I immigrated to the United States in 2001, for college. I brought only my Indian experience in dealing with shopkeepers and tea sellers. In Delhi, where I grew up, when doing business, people don't ask each other how the other's day has been. They might not even smile. The customer doesn't tremble before complaining about how cold his food is. Each side believes the other will cheat him.

“God, Mahajan, you're so rude to waiters!” Tom, an American friend, said, laughing, after he watched me ordering food at a restaurant, in the West Village, years ago. Considering myself a mild and friendly person, I was surprised. Tom always asked servers how they were doing or praised their shirts or made jokes about the menu. At that time, this seemed dishonest to me. Did he really like what they were wearing?

American life is based on a principle that we like one another but won't violate one another's privacies. This makes it a land of small talk. Two people greet each other happily, with friendliness, but might know each other for years before asking basic questions about each other's backgrounds. The opposite is true of Indians. At least three people I've sat next to on planes to and from India have asked me, within minutes, how much I earn as a writer (only to turn away in disappointment when I tell them).

Living in Brooklyn and then in Austin, Texas. I made coffee shops the places of my movements. Meeting the same baristas day after day produced context, and I got practice. I was beginning to fit in. It felt good and didn't seem fake anymore.

    Growing up in Wyoming,everyday life was an adventure—I spent my time camping,and exploring mountains. When I was little,my mom became the state's first female U.S. Marshall.I'll never forget how the local newspaper praised her for her success in a field that's traditionally run by men.Under her influence,I made up my mind to achieve something great.Now,I've become famous for sailing,a sport often considered "a man's world".

    Sailing is considered a hard-to-break-into sport.And,generally,there are only two ways to get into it—either through a strict sailing education that leads to experience or by growing up on the water and racing in the Olympics. Most of my teammates became professional sailors in one of these two ways but I skipped both.

    In the summer of 2008,I went to St.Croix through a college internship（实习）program focusing on educating locals about HIV and AIDs.There,I discovered my love for sailing.Then,SCA,a global hygiene（卫生保健）company, made the decision to support an all-female team,and when they began accepting applications,I knew it was the chance of a lifetime.I made it my task to become a part of the team.Even when it seemed like there were no positions left,I never gave up.

    After a stressful,two-year application process,I finally got the call.I moved to Lanzarote in the Canary Islands and began training with the team immediately.The process was physically,mentally and emotionally exhausting,but I finally achieved my goal.I sailed in the "Everest of sailing" with only six years' experience.Later,there was an all-female team competing,and I was lucky enough to be a part of it.

    As women,we need to approach our dreams as if we deserve to achieve them as much as men,because we do. There are plenty of professions,including sailing,in which women are absent or have a minor presence—but that's not because they shouldn't be there.We need to push the boundaries and focus on obtaining our goals and passions,no matter how unobtainable and challenging they may seem.

    Tom Costello was once afraid of homeless Americans. “I was so afraid that if I saw a homeless person walking down the street, I'd cross the street,” he said.

    That changed seven years ago after his wife, Nancy, a volunteer at a homeless shelter, persuaded him to help with a holiday dinner for shelter residents. Tom remembered going to a store and buying socks for the residents. He knew many of them were in need of clothing.

    At the shelter, Tom said, he dropped a pair of socks into a bag for a woman. She asked him if she could have socks for a friend who wasn't with her that day. He gave her another pair. “She started to cry and told me that nobody had ever given her socks before,” Tom said, “Then she reached out and gave me a hug.” That experience at the shelter helped Tom end his fear of the homeless.

    It also led him to set up a group called “The Joy of Sox.”, which borrows from a name of a popular book. The group collects socks from donors and gives them mostly to shelters in the area where Tom and Nancy live. It has been expanding its reach and provides socks to homeless shelters in 21 states and other three countries now.

    Why socks? Tom explains that some Americans give food, coats and other clothing to shelters. But donating socks is not something most people think about. And, he said, socks are very helpful at keeping people warm, especially in cold weather. A man named Kiwi，who has lived in homeless shelters, said most of the time he could find enough food through shelters and soup kitchens. But socks were much more difficult to get, he noted.

    One spring day, once the flowers have begun to open, a bee will hover (盘旋) and zip through your yard and dive-bomb your picnic table. While you're thinking about avoiding an attack, that bee is focused on something else entirely: me.

    A honeybee has about six weeks to live. Today, like most days, her task is to fly as many as three miles from home, stick her long, straw-like tongue into a hundred or so flowers. When the bee has had her fill, shell fly home. There the bee will deposit what she has got into the mouth of one of her co-workers, who will relay it to another, and so on for about 20 minutes, until the mixture is ready to be placed into the comb. Then she and her 50 000 or so mates will hover in the dark all night every night, flapping their wings to create hot, breezy conditions to remove the water from the mixture. Several sunrises later, they will seal me off in a golden cell of beeswax. In her lifetime, our bee may visit 4, 000 flowers, and yet will produce only one-twelfth of a tea spoon of me.

    The average American consumes nearly a pound and a half of me every year, in tea, on toast, and beyond. If I do say so myself, I am a timeless treasure. Literally—I never go bad.

    Alas, my good health is not guaranteed. The problem lies in the growth of industrial agriculture and the use of pest control chemicals, as well as changes in weather patterns, all of which reduce the number of flowers bees have to visit I'd appreciate your letting your own garden grow just a little wild My future depends on all of us fostering spring and summers wild flowers, thus helping the bees, who give so much—to you, to me—without ever asking for anything in return.