On the day the tornado hit, there was no indication that severe weather was on its way—the sky was blue and the sun bad been out. The first alert my husband,Jimmy,67,and I,65,got came around 9 p.m., from some scrolling text on the TV Jimmy was watching. He ran upstairs to find me in our third-floor bedroom, and we changed the channel from the presidential primary debate I had been watching to our local Pensacola, Florida, station.

    No sooner had we found coverage of the tornado than it was on top of us. It was the loudest thing I have ever heard. The bones of the house shook, and the power went out. The wind began to roar through the house, most likely through blown-out windows and the door to our garage. We had three flights of steps to navigate to get to the relative safety of the first floor, because the cupboard down there is underneath a brick staircase.

    I didn't know how or if we would make it down the steps. It felt as if there were no floor underneath me as the wind lifted me off my feet. I tried to move forward, but this intense pressure held me in place.

    As we reached the last flight of steps, our front door blew out. Pieces of glass that looked like crushed ice flew everywhere. Suddenly, a three-foot-long tree branch crashed into the door frame. It flew over our heads, missing us by inches. Had we been one step up, it would have hit us.

    By the time I reached the cupboard, the tornado had been over us for about a minute. Jimmy pushed me down to the cupboard floor, but he couldn't get inside himself because of the wind. I held Jimmy's arm and tried to bring Jimmy with it. My knees were full of glass, but at that moment, I felt no pain. If I had let go, Jimmy would have flown right out the back of the house and into the bay.

    All of a sudden, Jimmy lifted off his feet like people in tornadoes do in the movies. I thought he was gone. And then everything stopped. He landed on his feet. In those first quiet moments, I couldn't believe it was over, Jimmy said he'd go outside to check. "No,"I said. "Don't leave me. Don't leave me."

    Our neighbor says the storm lasted four minutes. In that time, four of the twelve town houses in our unit were completely destroyed. Of the houses left standing, ours suffered the most damage. Amazingly, none of us were severely injured.

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    I grew up with a fat dad 450 pounds at his heaviest. Every week he would try a new diet, and my family ended up eating whatever strange food he was trying at that moment.

    After my third-grade year, my dad landed a life-changing job in Manhattan. My mom, my little sister and I had to move away from our hometown, Chicago, and leave my grandmother and her beautiful food behind.

    Leaving my grandmother was far more frightening than the move to New York City.  There would be no more special weekends at my grandmother's house, the only place I can remember feeling happy, safe and nourished (有营养的). It was what I desired. In this new city, I felt extremely alone and lost, and I missed my grandmother terribly.

    My grandmother knew just how I felt. And she knew the cure. Every week, she would send me a card with a$ 20 bill, a recipe and a list of what to buy at the market. It kept us bonded, and her recipes filled my body and soul.

    Over the years, I have grown to better understand my father's struggles with weight and the toll (代价) it took on him and those who love him. I have come to realize he was driven not by vanity (自负) or selfishness as much as by a deep pain, I  And in spite of growing up in such an unhealthy eating environment ( or perhaps be-cause of it), as an adult I found a passion and a career as a nutrition consultant.

    Today, my father weighs 220 pounds and is a vegan(素食者). How he got there is a story I hope to share in the coming weeks. More importantly, food is no longer a barrier that keeps us apart, but a bridge that keeps us connected. There is nothing my dad enjoys more than talking with me about dietary theories and his weightloss victories. And now I am the one regularly sending recipe cards to my father s house, just as my grandmother did for me.

    With child behavior, there is almost much more than it meets the eye. Because it occurs at so many different levels, child behavior that seems simple at one level can often be much more complex and meaningful at another.

    For instance, a little child's pattern of getting into cupboards, drawers and closed rooms, even after being told not to, is easily considered as bad behavior. When viewed at that level, the pattern is unacceptable and could lead to punishment. But it can be viewed at a more complex and meaningful level, namely child exploration. If a child regularly experiences an angry parent who seems determined to prevent any exploratory activities, the child will decide to continue to achieve future discoveries. When parents view this behavior as born out of natural curiosity rather than simple opposition, they are more likely to accept and appropriately monitor it. Although it may lead to warning responses to ensure the child's safety, it is less likely to lead to punishment.

    There are countless other examples. Holding a goldfish outside its bowl is foolish at one level but also can be seen as a young child's attempt to express physical affection for a pet. Spending time with friends rather than family is selfish at one level but also indicates a teen's need for independence.

    The point here is that child behavior is often exhibited in simple forms that can appear to be oppositional, selfish or generally unacceptable if viewed only at that basic level. However, when viewed at a more meaningful level, the same apparently simple behavior can be seen as something larger and potentially more adaptive. This doesn't mean the behavior should be ignored, especially if it is inappropriate. But looking at the bigger picture of a child's behavior, adults might gain a fuller understanding of what they're dealing with, which can create more flexibility in how they respond.

    Social media is one of the fastest-growing industries in today's world. Your friends' lives may look more exciting than yours on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram, but a new research shows it is because they are faking (伪造) it.

    A recent survey has found around two-thirds of people on social media post images to their personal information to make their lives seem more adventurous. And more than three quarters of those asked said they judged their peers based on what they saw on their Instagrm, Snapehat or Facebook pages.

    The British survey, by smart phone maker HTC, found that, in order to make our own pages and lives appear more exciting, six percent also said they had borrowed items to include in the images in order to pass them off as their own. More than half of those surveyed said they posted images of items and places purely to show off, causing jealousy among friends and family.

    Behavioral psychologist Hemmings said the trend was unsurprising due to the rise of social media. "We're living in a world instant communication." she said. "Fashion and style used to live and die in magazines; now people are in search of authentic, peer-to-peer recommendations as well, making social media an equal power house to magazines and newspaper."

    "With images being shared in an instant, we desire to know what our friends are wearing, or what super stars are buying, as soon as they have got them." Such is the influence of social media sites like Instagram, 76 percent of those asked also said seeing items on social influences them to buy them, with men more likely to take style advice and buy what they see.

    It doesn't matter when or how much a person sleeps, but everyone needs some rest to stay alive. That's what all doctors thought, until they heard about AI Herpin. AI Herpin, it was said, never slept, Could this be true? The doctors decided to see this strange man themselves.

    AI Herpin was 90 years old when the doctors came to his home in New Jersey. They thought for sure that he got some sleep of some kind. So they stayed with him and watched every movement he made. But they were surprised. Though they watched him hour after hour and day after day, they never saw Herpin sleeping, In fact, he did not even own a bed. He never needed one.

    The only rest that Herpin sometimes got was sitting in a comfortable chair and reading newspapers. The doctors were puzzled by this strange continuous sleeplessness. They found only one answer that might explain his condition. Herpin remembered some talk about his mother having been injured several days before he was born. But that was all. Was this the real reason? No one could be sure.

    Herpin died at the age of 94.

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