In a cold winter, a couple had to move out from the luxury villa because of bankruptcy. The husband worked day and night to support the family but with no care of his wife. So she thought, “he doesn't love me anymore, he just cares his business… not me”.

    One day, she began to take a bath, he stopped her at the door, “Let me take it first, OK?” “Why not let me shower first?” she asked. “I was tired, sweetie, you take it later, OK?” She was totally depressed.

    On a morose(闷闷不乐的）day, she found nothing to do and turned on his computer, a few words blurred her eyes...It was his diary:

    Today, I was quite sad, she asked me why I was always taking the bath first, and I said to her, I was exhausted. She was unhappy, in her mind, I treated her not as well as usual, but how can I do? I wasn't as rich as before! We moved to the small apartment, there was only a shower in such a freezing winter. But I found that if one person took the shower first, the room could get a little warm, so every time I rushed to the bathroom first. I was thinking that, when she took the shower, the room would get warmer, at least1℃, 2℃ or 3℃.

    Now I can't give her comfortable life, bring her the luxury restaurant, buy expensive dresses for her, but at least, I can give her 1℃ love.

    Winslow Homer was a famous American painter. Since Art History class in college, I had always admired his works and I was lucky to see a large exhibition of his works when I was in my early 30s.It was at this event that I bought a print of his painting, “Snap the Whip”. It always hung in my classroom until I retired from teaching.

    I thought it truly captured the freedom and fun of childhood. In the painting, a group of young boys are playing a game arm in arm on grass ground in front of a farm house. They are jumping and laughing wildly with great joy. One of the boys is falling down to the ground. They are not even wearing shoes!

    During my last year of teaching, there was a young woman in her first year of teaching right next door to me and we got to be good friends. She had been an art student before taking up education. Her eyes were drawn immediately to this print when she entered my room. So on my last day of teaching, after the students had left, I took the painting off the wall and walked next door and gave it to her.

    She was really surprised, but very glad to have it. I was delighted that she liked it and all the students she would have would treasure it as much as I had. We found the perfect place for it on one of her walls and hung it together. I was happy that she brought back this wonderful memory for me.

B

    When I was 17, I read a magazine article about a museum called the McNay, once the home of a watercolorist named Marian McNay. She had requested the community to tum it into a museum upon her death. On a sunny Saturday, Sally and I drove over to the museum. She asked, "Do you have the address? ""No, but I'll recognize it, there was a picture in the magazine. "

    "Oh, stop. There it is!"

    The museum was free. We entered, excited. A group of people sitting in the hall stopped talking and stared at us.

    "May I help you?" a man asked. "No," I said. "We're fine." Tour guides got on my nerves. What if they talked a long time about a painting you weren't that interested in? Sally had gone upstairs. The people in the hall seemed very nosy(爱窥探的), keeping their eyes on me with curiosity. What was their problem? I saw some nice sculptures in one room. Suddenly I sensed a man standing behind me. "Where do you think you are?" he asked. I turned sharply. "The McNay Art Museum!" He smiled, shaking his head. "Sorry, the McNay is on New Braunfels Street." "What's this place?" I asked, still confused. "Well, it's our home." My heart jolted(震颤). I raced to the staircase and called out, "Sally! Come down immediately! "

    "There's some really good stuff(艺术作品）up there."She stepped down, looking confused. I pushed her toward the front door, waving at the family, saying, "Sorry, please forgive us, you have a really nice place." Outside, when I told Sally what happened, she covered her mouth, laughing. She couldn't believe how long they let us look around without saying anything.

    The real McNay was splendid, but we felt nervous the whole time we were there. Van Gogh, Picasso. This time, we stayed together, in case anything else unusual happened.

    Thirty years later, a woman approached me in a public place. "Excuse me, did you ever enter a residence, long ago, thinking it was the McNay Museum?"

    "Yes. But how do you know? We never told anyone. "

    "That was my home. I was a teenager sitting in the hall. Before you came over, I never realized what a beautiful place I lived in. I never felt lucky before. You thought it was a museum. My feelings about my home changed after that. I've always wanted to thank you."

    The writer Margaret Mitchell is best known for writing Gone with the Wind, first published in 1936. Her book and the movie based on it, tell a story of love and survival during the American Civil War. Visitors to the Margaret Mitchell House in Atlanta, Georgia, can go where she lived when she started composing the story and learn more about her life.

    Our first stop at the Margaret Mitchell House is an exhibit area telling about the writer's life. She was born in Atlanta in 1900. She started writing stories when she was a child. She started working as a reporter for the Atlanta Journal newspaper in 1922. One photograph of Ms. Mitchell, called Peggy, shows her talking to a group of young college boys. She was only about one and a half meters tall. The young men tower over her, but she seems very happy and sure of herself. The tour guide explains: “Now in this picture Peggy is interviewing some boys from Georgia Tech, asking them such questions as 'Would you really marry a woman who works?'

    And today it'd be 'Would you marry one who doesn't?' ”

    The Margaret Mitchell House is a building that once contained several apartments. Now we enter the first floor apartment where Ms. Mitchell lived with her husband, John Marsh. They made fun of the small apartment by calling it “The Dump”.

    Around 1926, Margaret Mitchell had stopped working as a reporter and was at home healing after an injury. Her husband brought her books to read from the library. She read so many books that he bought her a typewriter and said it was time for her to write her own book. Our guide says Gone with the Wind became a huge success. Margaret Mitchell received the Pulitzer Prize for the book. In 1939 the film version was released. It won ten Academy Awards, including Best Picture.

"Universal history, the history of what man has accomplished in this world, is at bottom the History of the Great Men who have worked here," wrote the Victorian sage Thomas Carlyle. Well, not any more it is not.

Suddenly, Britain looks to have fallen out with its favourite historical form. This could be no more than a passing literary craze, but it also points to a broader truth about how we now approach the past: less concerned with learning from forefathers and more interested in feeling their pain. Today, we want empathy, not inspiration.

From the earliest days of the Renaissance, the writing of history meant recounting the exemplary lives of great men. In 1337, Petrarch began work on his rambling writing De Viris Illustribus (On Famous Men), highlighting the virtus (or virtue) of classical heroes. Petrarch celebrated their greatness in conquering fortune and rising to the top. This was the biographical tradition which Niccolo Machiavelli turned on its head. In The Prince, he championed cunning, ruthlessness, and boldness, rather than virtue, mercy and justice, as the skills of successful leaders.

Over time, the attributes of greatness shifted. The Romantics commemorated the leading painters and authors of their day, stressing the uniqueness of the artist's personal experience rather than public glory. By contrast, the Victorian author Samual Smiles wrote Self-Help as a catalogue of the worthy lives of engineers, industrialists and explores. "The valuable examples which they furnish of the power of self-help, if patient purpose, resolute working and steadfast integrity, issuing in the formulation of truly noble and many character, exhibit," wrote Smiles. "what it is in the power of each to accomplish for himself." His biographies of James Walt, Richard Arkwright and Josiah Wedgwood were held up as beacons to guide the working man through his difficult life.

This was all a bit bourgeois (庸俗的) for Thomas Carlyle, who focused his biographies on the truly heroic lives of Martin Luther, Oliver Cromwell and Napoleon Bonaparte. These epochal figures represented lives hard to imitate, but to be acknowledged as possessing higher authority than mere mortals.

Not everyone was convinced by such bombast (浮夸的描写): "The history of all existing society is the history of class struggle" wrote Marx and Engels in The Communist Manifesto. "It is man, real living man, who does all that." And history should be the story of the masses and their record of struggle.

This was the tradition which revolutionized our appreciation of the past. It transformed the public history: downstairs became just as fascinating as upstairs. In place of Thomas Carlyle, Britain nurtured Christopher Hill, EP Thompson and Eric Hobsbawm. Whole new realms of understanding—from gender to race to cultural studies—were opened up as scholars unpicked the diversity of lost societies.