In the library, I found my way into the “Children's Room.” I sat down on the floor and pulled a few books off the shelf at random. The cover of a book caught my eye. It presented a picture of a beagle. I had recently had a beagle, the first and only animal companion I ever had as a child. He was my secret sharer, but one morning, he was gone, given away to someone who had the space and the money to care for him. I never forgot my beagle.

       There on the book's cover was a beagle which looked identical（相同的） to my dog. I ran my fingers over the picture of the dog on the cover. My eyes ran across the title, Amos, the Beagle with a Plan. Unknowingly, I had read the title. Without opening the book, I borrowed it from the library for the summer.

Under the shade of a bush, I started to read about Amos. I read very, very slowly with difficulty. Though pages were turned slowly, I got the main idea of the story about a dog who, like mine, had been separated from his family and who finally found his way back home. That dog was my dog, and I was the little boy in the book. At the end of the story, my mind continued the final scene of reunion, on and on, until my own lost dog and I were, in my mind, running together.

       My mother's call returned me to the real world. I suddenly realized something: I had read a book, and I had loved reading that book. Everyone knew I could not read. But I had read it. Books could be incredibly wonderful and I was going to read them.

       I never told my mother about my “miraculous” (奇迹般地) experience that summer, but she saw a slow but remarkable improvement in my classroom performance during the next year. And years later, she was proud that her son had read thousands of books, was awarded a PhD in literature, and authored his own books, articles, poetry and fiction. The power of the words has held.

Some years ago, writing in my diary used to be a usual activity.I would return from school and spend the expected half hour recording the day'sevents, feelings, and impressions in my little blue diary. I did not reallyneed to express my emotions by way of words, but I gained a certainsatisfaction from seeing my experiences forever recorded on paper. After all,isn't accumulating memories a way of preserving the past?

When I was thirteen years old, I went on a long journey on footin a great valley, well equipped with pens, a diary, and a camera. During thetrip, I was busy recording every incident, name and place I came across. I feltproud to be spending my time productively, dutifully preserving for futuregenerations a detailed description of my travels. On my last night there, Iwandered out of my tent, diary in hand. The sky was clear and lit by the glareof the moon, and the walls of the valley looked threatening behind their screenof shadows. I automatically took out my pen...

At that point, I understood that nothing I wrote could evermatch or replace the few seconds I allowed myself to experience the dramaticbeauty of the valley. All I remembered of the previous few days were the dullcharacterizations I had set down in my diary.

Now, I only write in my diary when I need to write down aspecial thought or feeling. I still love to record ideas and quotations thatstrike me in books, or observations that are particularly meaningful. I takepictures, but not very often only of objects I find really beautiful. I'm nolonger blindly satisfied with having something to remember when I grow old. Irealize that life will simply pass me by if I stay behind the camera, busypreserving the present so as to live it in the future.

I don't want to wake up one day and have nothing but a pile ofpictures and notes. Maybe I won't have as many exact representations of peopleand places; maybe I'll forget certain facts, but at least the experiences willalways remain inside me. I don't live to make memories--I just live, and thememories form themselves.

    How to deal with waste has been a problem since humans started producing it. As more and more people choose to live close together in cities, the waste-disposal (处理) problem becomes increasingly difficult.

    During the eighteenth century, it was usual for several neighboring towns to get together to select a faraway spot as a dump site. Residents or trash haulers (垃圾拖运者) would transport household rubbish, rotted wood, and old possessions to the site. Periodically (定期的) some of the trash was burned and the rest was buried. The unpleasant sights and smells caused no problem because nobody lived close by.

    Factories, mills, and other industrial sites also had waste to be disposed of (处理). Those located on rivers often just dumped (倾倒) the unwanted remains into the water. Others built huge burners with chimneys (烟囱) to deal with the problem.

    Several facts make these choices unacceptable to modem society. The first problem is space. Dumps, which are now called landfills, are most needed in heavily populated areas. Such areas rarely have empty land suitable for this purpose. Property is either too expensive or too close to residential (住宅区的) neighborhoods. Long-distance trash hauling has been a common practice, but once farm areas are refusing to accept rubbish from elsewhere, cheap land within trucking distance of major city areas is almost nonexistent (不存在).

    Awareness (意识) of pollution dangers has led to more strict rules of waste disposal. Pollution of rivers, ground water, land and air is a price people can no longer pay to get rid of waste. The amount of waste, however, continues to grow.

    Recycling efforts have become commonplace, and many towns require their people to take part. Even the most efficient recycling programs, however, can hope to deal with only about 50 per cent of a city's reusable waste.

    Imagine on your way out of class today you trip (绊倒) on a loose piece of carpet and twist your ankle. As a result of the injury, you lose your place in the local sports team, and have to miss an important job interview. Bad luck? Or an opportunity to get rich quick?

    Perhaps it's not surprising that Roslyn Darch of Houston, Texas, USA felt annoyed when she tripped over a toddler (学步的儿童) running around a furniture store, and broke her ankle. But a few months later, she was $780,000 richer after she successfully sued (起诉) the shop. The owners were clearly surprised at the size of Roslyn's payout, particularly since the toddler she tripped over was her own son.

    And it's not only claims for physical injuries that are keeping the lawyers busy. A group of overweight New York teenagers sued a giant fast-food company claiming that they had not had enough warning that a diet of burgers, fries and milk shakes would make them fat. The parents of one nineteen-year-old English schoolgirl successfully sued her school for 42,000 compensation when she failed to get a top grade in a university entrance exam. Sandra York received $113,000 from a Washington D.C. restaurant after slipping on a spilt soft drink.

    Who knows where it will end? Some say there should be penalties (处罚) for excessive (过度的) claims, or that there should be a limit on payouts. But one thing's for sure—in the end, the only certain winner is the lawyer!

    On a recent trip to London, I decided to visit some exciting new restaurants that are using technology to change the way people dine out. My first stop was at an Italian restaurant in the city center. When I walked into the restaurant, I was given a tray (托盘)and a special card, but I had no idea what to do next! The manager came up to me and explained that I could swipe (刷) my card at any of the food and drink stations in the restaurant, and that the card would record my order. No waiters necessary! I made my selection and then handed my card to the cashier. Once I'd paid for my meal, I collected it and made my way to the dining area on the second floor. The food was very delicious, but, I must admit, I didn't enjoy having to carry my food up two flights of stairs.

    On the next night, a friend of mine suggested that we visit his favorite high-tech restaurant. When we arrived, I was surprised to discover that there were no paper menus; instead, the menus appeared on the touch screen surface of the table. All we had to do was touch our choices with our fingers and wait for the waiters to bring us our meal. The touch screen tabletop also allowed us to change different tablecloths and even play games. We had so much fun playing games that we hardly touched our food when it arrived--we really should have told the waiter to give us takeaways instead.

    On my last day in London, I decided to get some tapas from a Spanish takeaway near my hotel. I had heard that the owners had placed a webcam (网络摄像机) at the restaurant to allow their customers to watch the long lunchtime queue (队列) online. This came in very handy for me. While I packed my baggage, I kept an eye on the queue and then raced to the restaurant when the lunchtime rush was over. Without that wonderful webcam, I could have missed my plane.

    More than 10 million Chinese cultural relics have been lost overseas, lost of which were stolen and illegally shipped out of China during the times of war before 1949. About 1.67million pieces are housed in more than 200 museums in 47 countries, which accounts for 10 percent of all lost Chinese cultural relics, and the rest are in the hands of private collectors.

    Most of these treasures are owned by museums or private collectors in the United States, Europe, Japan and Southeast Asian countries. There are more than 23, 000 pieces in the British Museum, most of which were stolen or bought for pennies more than 100 years ago.

    The major method to recover these national treasures was to buy them back. In some cases, private collectors donated the relics to the government. Also the government can turn to official channels to demand the return of relics.

    In 2003, a priceless bronze pig's head dating from the Qing Dynasty was returned to its home in Beijing after it was removed by the Anglo-French Allied Army over 140 years ago. Macao entrepreneur (企业家) Stanley Ho donated 6 million yuan to buy it back from a US art collector and then donated it to the Poly Art Museum in Beijing. Although buying-back is the most feasible way to recover the lost treasures, limited funding is always a big headache.

    In recent years, the Chinese government has improved efforts to recover the precious cultural relics lost overseas. It has started a national project on the recovery of the treasures and has set up a database (数据库) collecting relevant information. It has signed several international agreements with many countries on this matter, and is also looking for international cooperation to recover the relics by working closely with several international organizations.