The light from the campfire brightened the darkness, but it could not prevent the damp cold of Dennis's Swamp (沼泽地) creeping into their bones. It was a strange place. Martin and Tom wished that they had not accepted Jack'sdare. They liked camping, but not near this swamp.

"So," Martin asked as they sat watching the hot coals. "How did this place get its name?"

"Are you sure you want to hear it? It's a scary story," warned Jack.

"Of course!" cried out Tom. "If there were anything to be scared of, you wouldn't have chosen this place!"

"Ok, but don't say I didn't warn you," said Jack, and he began this tale.

"Way back in time, a man called Dennis tried to start a farm here. He built that cottage over there to live in. In those days, the area looked quite different — it was covered with tall trees and the swamp was a crystal-clear river. After three hard years, Dennis had cleared several fields and planted crops. He was so proud of his success that he refused to listen to advice.

"‘You are clearing too much land,' warned one old man. ‘The land is a living thing. It will hit back at you if you abuse it. '"

"‘Silly fool,' said Dennis to himself. ‘If I clear more land, I can grow more crops. I'll become wealthier. He's just jealous!'"

"Dennis continued to chop down trees. Small animals that relied on them for food and shelter were destroyed. He was so eager to expand his farm that he did not notice the river flowing slowly towards his door. He did not notice salt seeping to the surface of the land. He did not notice swamp plants choking all the native plants."

"What happened?" Martin asked. It was growing colder. He trembled, twisting his body closer to the fire.

"The land hit back — just as the old man warned," Jack shrugged. "Dennis disappeared. Old folks around here believe that swamp plants moved up from the river and dragged him underwater. His body was never found."

"What a stupid story," laughed Tom. "Plants can't …" Before he had finished speaking, he screamed and fainted (晕倒). The other two boys jumped up with fright, staring at Tom. Suddenly, they burst out laughing. Some green swamp ivy (常春藤) had covered Tom's face. It was a while before Tom could appreciate the joke.

Ten years ago I adopted my dog Rudy from a shelter just days before they were going to euthanize (使安乐死) him. We've had a special1 ever since.

    I've found his  2 really meaningful. Every night I get in my bed and he gets in his doggy bed right next to mine. But a year ago suddenly Rudy 3 . Every night when I got in bed he'd jump up on my  4 and start licking (舔) my face. I'd get  5 and make him get off but the next night he'd do it again.

    I was considering taking him to obedience (驯服) school when I suddenly 6 that he was licking the same spot on my jaw over and over again. I  7  my jaw and it seemed okay but it was so  8 for my dog that I decided to just trust him. I made an appointment with the  9 and felt silly telling her why I came in but she agreed to do some  10 . It turns out I had a tumor (肿瘤) in my jaw. It couldn't be felt from the  11 but somehow Rudy knew it was there. I'm doing much 12 now but the doctors said if I'd  13 until the tumor was big enough to be felt, it's likely I would have  14 . I saved my dog's life and now he's  15 mine!

In 2011, Nancy Ballard went for a routine check-up that turned into something extraordinary. In fact, she was carrying a painting of a plant she'd done when she arrived at her doctor's San Francisco office. "It would be great if we had artwork like that for our chemotherapy(化疗) rooms," the nurse said. Ballard asked to see one. 

She was shocked by what she found. The walls were dull and bare, and the paint was falling. It was a depressing room for a depressing routine—patients were restricted to chemo drips for perhaps several hours, often with nothing to look at other than those sad walls. Ballard didn't have cancer herself, but she could sympathize with the patients. "I couldn't imagine how anyone could even think about getting healthy in a room like that," she says. As it happened, Ballard's physician, Stephen Hufford, was ill with cancer himself, so finding time to decorate the rooms was low on his to-do list. So Ballard made it her task to brighten up the place. 

She started by emailing 20 local designers. "I wrote, ‘You don't know me. But my heart hurts after seeing these rooms,'" she remembers. She then asked whether they would donate their time and money to transform just one of Dr Hufford's rooms each. 

As it happened, six of them wrote back almost immediately. Six rooms got new paint, light fixtures, artwork and furniture. Dr Hufford was delighted. "All the patients feel relieved of the pain because of it," he said. He even noted that his own tone of voice was different in the rooms and that he was better able to connect with his patients. 

Ballard was so encouraged by the patients' reactions that she created a non-profit organization to raise money and decorate more spaces. Since then, she has worked on 20 projects, including one in Pennsylvania. "We were in Philadelphia for a ribbon-cutting(剪彩), and a woman was there on her third battle with cancer," says Ballard. "When she saw what we'd done, she said, ‘I'm gonna beat it this time. I thought I wasn't going to, but now I know I'm gonna beat it.'"

We all know how it feels to get lost in a great book. But what's happening in our brains as we dive into it? How is it different from what happens as we experience real life? Now, a new study led by Dr Leila Wehbe and Dr Tom Mitehell of Carnegie Mellon University have provided partial answers to these questions. 

Since reading comprehension is a highly complex process, earlier studies tried to break that process down and focus on just one aspect at a time: mapping fMRI signatures（特征）associated with processing a single word or sentence, for example. "It's usually not like reading a book, and usually the stimulus（刺激物）consists of out-of-context sentences designed specifically for the experiment"

To address these issues, the researchers developed a computer program to look for patterns of brain activity that appeared when people read certain words, specific grammatical structures, particular characters" names and other aspects of the story—a total of 195 different "story features". In the study, they first asked eight volunteers to read Chapter 9 of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone and recorded their brain activity using an fMRI scanner（扫描仪）. Then the researchers fed the volunteers' fMRI data into their computer program and had the program identify the responses of different brain regions to the 195 features mentioned above. 

The result showed that when the volunteers read descriptions of physical movement in the story, there was significantly increased activity in the posterior temporal cortex, the region involved in perceiving real-world movement. Besides dialogue was specifically related with the right temporoparietal junction, a key area involved in imagining others thoughts and goals. "This is truly shocking for us as these regions aren't even considered to be part of the brain's language system," Wehbe says. 

Next, Wehbe and Mitchell hope to study how and why language processing can go wrong. "If we have a large enough amount of data", Wehbe says, "we could find the specific ways in which one brain—for example, the brain of a dyslexic（诵读困难的）person—is performing differently from other brains." And this, the researchers think, may someday help us design individually tailored（特制的）treatments for dyslexia and other reading disorders.

Don't ignore (忽略) the difference teenagers can make.

John Michael Thomas, 14, Florida

When John Michael Thomas decided to honor his friend and classmate Elizabeth Buckley, who died from cancer, he remembered how much she loved peacocks (孔雀).

He wanted to build a life-sized peacock fountain (喷泉) in Elizabeth's favorite park in the city. He thought it could be a place for people to relax and be inspired.

John Michael raised $52,000 to build the fountain.

Barrett England, 13, Utah

The wheels began to turn for Barrett England when he heard about Karma Bike shop, a place where young people can earn free bikes by reading and performing community (社区) service.

Barrett visited Karma's owner with his idea: He would collect and repair used bikes and donate them to the shop.

He expected to get about 10 donated bikes. In the end, Barrett received 39.

Zachary Blohm, 15, Wisconsin

The 25-year-old playground at an elementary school near Milwaukee, Wis. was so small that only 70 of its 575 students could play on it at a time.

That's when Zachary Blohm saved the day. He and some volunteers wanted to build a huge playground. To raise money, Zac planned T-shirt and bake sales, sold tickets and more. He held monthly money-raising events for more than a year. Overall, he collected $130,000 — enough to finish his project.

Jack Zimmerman, 16, New Jersey

For some people, finding a meal is as simple as opening the refrigerator. For more than 366,000 hungry kids in New Jersey, it's not that easy.

That fact didn't sit well with Jack Zimmerman, who organized a drive to lessen childhood hunger in his state. His goal: create 40,000 packaged meals that could be donated to those in need.

On game day, Jack and his volunteers started their work. After the final count, the team had packaged 47, 124 meals—well above Jack's goal.

The year was 1937. I was seven years old. And I was with my father and mother, at a Chinese restaurant in Boro Park, Brooklyn. That was the first Chinese restaurant I ever ate at. I was always given food from the adults' orders.

I'm not sure when it was, but the time did come when I had my first order — Won-Ton soup, egg rolls and spare ribs. That made me excited. My father seemed to know the Chinese waiter, a young guy; his name was Jimmy. I remember being surprised that a Chinese man could have an American name.

Some months later, my father took me to a restaurant in Manhattan's Chinatown called The Rathskeller on Mott Street. This was my first time in Chinatown and I was very impressed by how different it was from Boro Park. We went there a few times. I just couldn't have enough of the food there.

In 1951, I was sent to work in the Hospital Treasurer's Office at Letterman Army Hospital. A colleague had an uncle who was a waiter at The Far East Cafe on Grant Avenue in the heart of San Francisco's Chinatown. Once a week, a group from the office would go there for lunch and my colleague's uncle would take good care of us. My favorite dish was Tomato Beef Chow Mein.

It wasn't until about 23 years later, in 1974, that I had my next serious relationship with the cuisine (菜肴) of China. I was lucky to take some cooking lessons provided by a famous Chinese restaurant's chef. Then my life entered a new phase (阶段). I didn't know it then, but some time later, it became clear to me that Chinese food would follow me through the days of my life.