Off the Beaten Cart Path

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    Parents

    The most popular magazine for parents who want to raise smart and loving children. It has child development guidance, advice on your child's health and safety, and the best way to encourage your child's learning.

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    Best Weekend Projects

    The projects are chosen from 80 special ideas to create an unusual living space. They are practical, as well as creative. They will improve your home and yard and can be made on weekends. And the most important of all, they are easy to follow.

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    I sit on the stoop (门廊) in front of my friend's house at the top of a steep hill. And now my friend is late, and I'm stuck here waiting.

    I see a man approaching.

    "Por favor. Call 911," the man says. "Finger. Cut." With his left hand, he is pressing the handkerchief around his right little finger.

    "No. Have. Phone," I say, as if English is also my second language.

    "Have phone," he says, and dips his chin toward his front pants pocket. There, I find a phone, and call 911.

    The operator answers, and I say "I'm with this guy, and he cut his finger."

    "Did he cut it off?"

    "Did you cut it off?"

    "Sí." He sighs.

    "Yes. He cut it off."

    "Where is it?" the operator asks.

    "Where is it?"

    "Upstairs," he says, pointing with his elbow to the house next door.

    "Go get it," she instructs me.

    I follow the man toward the house. Inside, I see a table saw(锯), and the blood spreading across the ceiling, but I don't see the finger. I lift up each foot and look underneath to be sure I've not stepped on it. I'm getting that jumpy, tight-shouldered feeling like when you've lost sight of a spider that was on your ceiling a moment ago.

    "Do you see it?" I ask him.

    He points at his own finger beside the table saw. I grab a paper towel, pinching it carefully, the way you might pick up a harmless but frightening insect.

    "We have secured the finger," I tell the operator.

    "Hang tight. The ambulance is on its way."

    We sit on the stoop waiting for the ambulance.

    "You're going to be OK," I say, putting my free hand on his sawdust-covered back.

    "Gracias," he says.

    "De nada. Esta no problemo," I reply in broken Spanish.

    It feels good to be able to comfort someone, anyone. For months now, the second my hands would go idle(闲散的), a familiar depression would climb on my back. I have been trying to put on a good face for my kid, but I feel as if I've been failing. Could I save myself? I wouldn't know how. But I am determined to save this man.

    Finally the ambulance arrives, picks him up, and they're off.

    Throughout the evening, I can't stop worrying about the man. I decide to call the hospital.

    "Hi! I helped a guy who cut off his finger, and I don't even know his name, but I'm wondering whether he came to your hospital."

    The nurse says, "His name is Jose Ramos, and he's waiting for surgery. Would you like to leave a message?"

    "No. I don't want to bother him. I just wanted to be sure he was OK."

    The next morning, I call the hospital again. This time, I'm put through to Jose's room. "How was the surgery?"

    "No surgery," he says. "No enough blood."

    "Oh, I'm sorry," I say.

    Later that day, I remember that old proverb about how if you save someone's life, you are responsible for them for the rest of their life, which never made sense to me before. Shouldn't the person who got saved owe a debt, and not the other way around? But today, I get it. It's a great honor to help someone in need.

    I start keeping a lookout for other people in need of assistance. I help push a stalled car out of the road. I aid a disoriented cyclist when her bike gets clipped by a car. I adopt a dog. Then one day, a month or two after the finger incident, I realize I have completely forgotten to be depressed. I've been so busy playing the role of local hero that I have ignored to drag my feet and stare into space and imagine the world without me.

    Now, more than a decade has passed since Jose's accident. Occasionally I search for "Jose" plus "Ramos" plus "finger." I wish I could see him again, to see how he's getting on. But more important, to thank him, because when he lost his finger, he saved my life.

    As we drove along, my spirits went up again, and I turned, with pleasure, to the thought of the new life which I was entering. But though it was not far past the middle of September, the heavy clouds and strong north-easterly wind combined to make the day extremely cold; and the journey seemed a very long one, so that it was nearly one o'clock before we reached the place of our destination. Yet when we entered the gateway, my heart failed me, and I wished it were a mile or two farther off. For the first time in my life I must stand alone: there was no retreating now. I must enter that house, and introduce myself among its strange people. But how was it to be done? True, I was near nineteen; but, thanks to the protecting care of my mother and sister, I well knew that many a girl of fifteen, or under, was gifted with a more womanly address, and greater ease and self-possession, than I was. Yet, anyway. I would do very well, after all; and the children, of course, I should soon be at ease with them.

    "Be calm, be calm, whatever happens," I said within myself; and truly I was so fully occupied in steadying my nerves and keeping down the rebellious beat of my heart that when I was admitted into the hall and into the presence of Mrs. Bloomfield, I almost forgot to answer her polite greeting; and it afterwards struck me that the little I did say was spoken in the tone of one half-dead or half-asleep.

    With due politeness, however, she showed me my bedroom, and left me there to take a little refreshment for a little while and led me into the dining-room. Some beefsteaks and potatoes were set before me; and while I dined upon these, she sat opposite, watching me (as I thought) and trying to keep something like a conversation— consisting chiefly of commonplace remarks. In fact, my attention was almost wholly absorbed in my dinner: not from appetite, but from the toughness of the beefsteaks, and the numbness of my hands.

    “I have had so little time to attend to their education myself, but I think they are clever children, and very willing to learn, especially the little boy; he is, I think, the flower of the flock— a generous, noble-spirited boy, one to be led, but not driven, and remarkable for always speaking the truth.” “His sister Mary Ann will require watching,” continued she, “but she is a very good girl on the whole, though I wish her to be kept out of the nursery as much as possible, as she is now almost six years old, and might acquire bad habits from the nurses. I have ordered her bed to be placed in your room, and if you will be so kind as to look after her washing and dressing, and take charge of her clothes, she needs to have nothing further to do with the nursery maid.”

    I replied I was quite willing to do so; and at that moment the children entered the room. Tom Bloomfield was a well-grown boy of seven. Mary was a tall girl, for her age of six, somewhat dark like her mother. The second sister was Fanny, a very pretty little girl, looking little younger than Mary. The remaining one was Harriet, a little broad, fat, merry, playful thing of scarcely two, whom I had more desire for than all the rest — but with her I had nothing to do.

    Imagine looking at yourself in the mirror; you do not look like these stick -thin models seen across the media. Your legs are too big, your bottom is too small, and you are too pale. You are too “ugly” You stare in wonder and anger, “Why don't I look like them?" However, you don't need to imagine this situation, because this is a bitter truth for millions of people. In the media，one can quickly see the ideal body, the ideal face, and the ideal person. The advancement of unrealistic beauty on social media causes millions of people to become dissatisfied with their looks.

    Dissatisfaction with one's appearance can cause dangerous behaviors like dieting, which result in eating disorders like Anorexia Nervosa (神经性厌食症) and Bulimia Nervosa (神经性易饿病). Eating disorders have seen a dramatic increase following the rise of social media, 119% increase according to recent statistics. According to Brittany Tackett, a mental health professional,“30% -50% of patients in eating disorder hospitals used social media as a means of supporting their eating disorders.”

    Not only can social media become a support-system for unhealthy behaviors, but an article written by Rachel Simmons, a Time magazine writer, suggests that people who spend more time online tend to link their self-worth to their looks. A study conducted by Park Nicollet Melrose Center also says that in the 1990's, fifty-percent of women wanted to lose weight. Now it finds that eighty-percent of women want to lose weight. Although this higher percentage cannot be directly related to the rise of social media, one can argue that the unrealistic and damaging beauty expectations that social media presents contribute to this number.

    In addition, social media causes stress. A survey was conducted in which people were asked whether or not they used social media, and how stressed they felt they were. The study found that “social network users are, in fact, 14 percent more likely than non-users to characterize their lives as at least 'somewhat stressful.' Non-users are 28 percent more likely than users to say their lives are 'not at all' stressful”. Additionally, stress may have more connection to self-confidence than is believed.

    So，there you are again, standing in front of the mirror criticizing the parts of your body which do not follow the idealistic images of models seen on social media. Your legs are too big, your bottom is too small, and you are too pale. You are too “ugly”. Although this time, you realize it is not you who are the problem. The problem is the unhealthy and unrealistic standards that social media encourages. So the next time you are looking through Instagram, opening WeChat, or commenting on Twitter, ask yourself, “Is it worth it?”

    There was great excitement on the planet of Venus this week. For the first time Venusian scientists managed to land a satellite on the planet Earth, and it has been sending back signals as well as photographs. The satellite was directed into an area known as Manhattan. Because of excellent weather conditions and extremely strong signals, Venusian scientists were able to get valuable information about the feasibility of a manned flying saucer landing on Earth. A press conference was held at the Venus Institute of Technology. "We have come to the conclusion, based on last weeks satellite landing, "Prof. Zog said, that there is no life on Earth.”

    “How do you know this? "the science reporter of the Venus Evening News asked "For one thing, Earth s surface in the area of Manhattan is composed of solid concrete and nothing can grow there. For another, the atmosphere is filled with carbon monoxide and other deadly gases and nobody could possibly breathe this air and survive. “Are there any other sources of danger that you have discovered in your studies?

    “Take a look at this photo. You see this dark black cloud staying over the surface of Earth? We don' t know what it is made of, but it could give us a lot of trouble and we shall have to make further tests before we send a Venus Being there.”

    “Over here you will notice what seems to be a river, but the satellite findings indicate it is polluted and the water is unfit to drink.”

    “Sir, what are all those tiny black spots on the photographs?

We're not certain. They seem to be metal particles that move along certain paths. They give gases, make noise and keep crashing into each other.

    “Prof. Zog, why are we spending billions and billions of Zilches to land a flying saucer on Earth when there is no life there?"

    “Because if we Venusians can learn to breathe in the Earth atmosphere, then we can live anywhere.”