Earlier this year Rodney Smith Jr. made headlines when he drove eight hours from his home in Huntsville. Alabama, to cut the lawn for an elderly soldier in North Carolina who couldn't find anyone to help him with his yard work.

That wasn't the first time the twenty-nine-year-old Bermuda native had gained such attention. To do his good deeds, Rodney often finds leads for those in need through social media.

Back to one August afternoon in 2015, Rodney Smith Jr. was driving home. That's when Rodney saw an elderly man struggling to mow his lawn. He would take a couple of shaky steps, using the handle to stabilize himself, pause, then slowly push the mower again. Rodney decided to help. Mr. Brown thanked him greatly, and Rodney went home feeling satisfied.

Sitting at his computer to do his homework, Rodney couldn't get Mr. Brown out of his mind. There must be many Mr. Browns out there. He went online and posted that he would mow lawns for free for senior citizens. Messages flooded in.

One day a cancer-battling woman said she wasn't having a good day. Rodney decided to do more than mowing lawns. After he finished mowing, he knocked on her door. "You're going to win this fight, Madam", he said. Then he asked folks to pray for her on social media.

Word of Rodney's mission spread. A grandmother in Ohio said he'd encouraged her 12-year-old grandson to mow lawns. He got a letter from a seven-year-old boy in Kansas. "Mr. Rodney, I would like to be a part of your program, and I'll make you proud," he wrote.

That gave Rodney an idea. In 2017, he decided to establish a programme Raising Men Lawn Care Service to make a national movement for young people. The kids learn the joy of giving back.

Yard work seems like a small, simple thing, but taking care of the lawn means a lot to the people they do it for. "When we mow their yards for free, they can use the money for healthcare and food etc. It means more than you would think," Rodney said.

Eighty-year-old retired tailor, James McKay, spent Saturday night in prison after hitting 30-year-old Keith Smith over the head with his walking stick. McKay's wife, Laurene said that, while McKay is usually a（n）1 and pleasant person, he had been driven to this act of2 by literally getting wet just once too often. He could no longer3 it.

Smith lives above the McKays. He is a（n）4 gardener, and also a fish collector. Unfortunately, the water he5 over his balcony（平台）every day ended up on the McKay's floor, or too often, on the unsuspecting McKays themselves.

"For the last two weeks, since Smith moved into the flat above us, we dared not go onto our6 ," said Laurene. She added that it wasn't only the water7 their balcony from Smith watering his plants that8 them, but also the way he cleaned his fish9 . "We'd be sitting there happily reading our newspapers, when suddenly so much water would come from above that we'd be as wet as if we had10 with our clothes on! We could hardly11 the smell of fish!"

And on Saturday evening it was just too12 , "It was James' birthday," Laurene recalled, "and it was such a beautiful night to enjoy the starry night13 . I made him a birthday cake. The candles were a great sight as you can14 , but James didn't get to blow them out." Instead,

Smith15 one of his larger tanks over his balcony and both the McKays and the cake were wet through. "I have never seen him move so fast and I couldn't stop him. He was up there in a（n）16 ."

Smith is not going to take things further with the police. He has also17 to change his ways from now on. And what of James McKay? As he left the18 station,a large crowd of supporters sang him "Happy Birthday". "Definitely the most exciting birthday ever!" said the19 old man. "The best since my20 , I'd say!"

I often wondered what it would be like to have cancer.

I didn't expect to find out, though, at last not for decades. I have always been healthy and strong; I regularly do hot yoga and swim two kilometers in a bay near my home in Sydney.

But now I know: it felt as if I was carrying a baby. Tumors (肿瘤) that silently grew inside me suddenly became bigger one weekend.

Then, one Saturday in June, I was struck with sharp pain and ended up in the hospital.

My doctor said it might be very serious. I spent two weeks waiting for the operation, not knowing if I'd live to the end of the year.

In the days before the operation, I turned off my phone and computer. I prayed so hard that I grew unnaturally calm.

The operation lasted five hours. The mass was fully removed, but it was unexpectedly complicated. I was in special care for eight days, in the wires, machines, with pipes in my lungs and liver.

Luckily, the operation was very successful and I am slowly growing stronger. I am walking upright again and waking without great pain. I can now drive, and am preparing to return to work. My prognosis (预后) is good, but I will need to live with the fear of return.

Everyone suddenly seems consumed with foolish worries. I have a different idea about the complaints posted by some Internet users who had the flu, were upset by the upcoming exams or burdened by work. I want to scream: BUT YOU ARE ALIVE! Alive! Each day is a gift, especially if you are upright and able to move with ease, without pain.

I'm still struggling with what all of this means. But in this short time, a truth became even clearer to me.

We should not have to move to the woods like Henry David Thoreau to "live meaningfully". It would be impossible and frankly tiring to live each day as if it were your last. My doctor asked me a few days ago how I became so calm before the operation. I told her: I prayed; I locked out negativity and drew my family and friends near; I tried to live meaningfully.

She said, "Actually you should do that for the rest of your life."

The famous Peking opera artist Yuan Huiqin hosted two culture talks {#blank#}1{#/blank#}were called "Charm (魅力) of Peking Opera" in Stockholm and St. Petersburg last year.

The two sessions, as programs of Chinese Culture Talk,{#blank#}2{#/blank#}(organize) by the Bureau for External Cultural Relations of the Ministry of Culture of China, Chinese embassies and local cultural organizations.{#blank#}3{#/blank#}(member) of Chinese embassies, famous sinologists (汉学家) and those {#blank#}4{#/blank#}(show) an interest in Peking opera, attended the two culture talks.

The host, Yuan Huiqin, is a national class A artist of China National Peking Opera Company and a winner of the Plum Blossom Prize. During the talks, she {#blank#}5{#/blank#}(patient) shared the charm of Peking opera in more than one way.

With the help of the local sinologists,{#blank#}6{#/blank#}(she) talks were translated into Swedish and Russian. These words explored the concepts and artistic characteristics of {#blank#}7{#/blank#}(tradition) Chinese operas, which got audience {#blank#}8{#/blank#}(experience) the distinct charm of Peking opera.

{#blank#}9{#/blank#}addition, young artists from the China National Peking Opera Company performed classic opera selections. During the interaction of the talks, some opera lovers performed with young artists and on{#blank#}10{#/blank#}spot the audience tried costumes (戏装) of Peking opera with great curiosity.

Growing up in a suburban neighborhood in the Northeastern United States, the advent of springtime didn't hold much significance for me. While it did bring a week-long respite from school, the focus was more on the vacation aspect than the season itself.

For the children in my community, spring was largely an overlooked period. The year was divided into two primary seasons: winter, which offered the thrill of ice skating, sledding, and constructing snow forts; and summer, which allowed us to fully enjoy the beach located a short distance from my home. Spring and autumn were merely transitional periods, marking the countdown to the more exciting seasons.

It's true that as I matured, spring began to hold a certain charm for me, as suggested by the poetic line, "In the spring a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love," penned by Alfred Lord Tennyson. However, my fascination was more with the romantic notions associated with the season rather than the season itself.

In essence, spring was not a season I paid much heed to... until my journey to China. After spending roughly three months in Beijing, my first Spring Festival made its presence known in an undeniable way. The sporadic fireworks throughout the day and night were a clear indication, but what truly struck me was the apparent absence of the usual hustle and bustle in the city.

The usual throngs of people, streams of vehicles, and the general city noise seemed to have vanished. This mystery was resolved upon my return to work. My colleagues enlightened me that it is customary for Chinese people to travel, if necessary, to reunite with their families during the Spring Festival. Many residents of Beijing are not originally from the capital.

Furthermore, I was introduced to a fascinating aspect of the Spring Festival that continues to astonish me. Regardless of when the holiday commences, there is an almost instantaneous and perceptible improvement in the weather. Spring truly makes its entrance.

The ancient Chinese ability to devise a system that could consistently and accurately herald the change of seasons, year after year, is beyond my comprehension. Yet, they managed to achieve this remarkable feat.

In 2009, Kevin Pearce was at the height of his professional snowboarding career and bound for the Winter Olympics. But in an instant, it came to an end. During training, he struck his head on the edge of a pipe, resulting in a traumatic (创伤的) brain injury. It changed the course of the then-22-year-old's life.

He had to relearn how to walk and talk and essentially start over. His older brother Adam quit his job and moved across the country to help him through rehab.

He eventually started doing yoga, and his family saw how it transformed him and gave him a sense of hope: "It was the first time I remember so clearly coming out of a class with him and just seeing in his face this new expression, this new person." Adam Pearce said, "We were like, ‘We need to figure out why and how that just happened.'"

Wanting to bring hope and healing to others through yoga and meditation (冥想). Adain and Kevin co-founded the Love YourBrain Foundation in 2014. The nonprofit offers week-long meditations and community-based yoga classes across the United States for people who are living with long-term brain-related disabilities. "I think people feel isolated after brain injury because they don't feel able, and when you don't feel able, you generally retreat back inside." Adam said, "At these retreats, people are given the space to lean into those deep challenges and express them and talk about them."

Ultimately, the organization aims to create a safe space and supportive community where people with brain-related disabilities can heal together. "Connection happens quickly because there's such a shared common understanding among the group." Adam said. "Once someone sees someone be vulnerable, it instantly allows the next person (to be). By the end, people start to see vulnerability as a superpower."