We were on the way from Hutchinson to Chicago for a short spring break. For many years I had wanted to take my family on the train. We all had been to Chicago four years ago, and the kids loved it. Chicago is one of my favorite cities, too, so the thought struck me again last fall to ride the train to Chicago. Of course, flying would have been faster. But I don't think flying is easier, especially these days, with all the security and waiting in lines at airports.

    Though we were tired in the middle of the night, the kids got on the train with the exhilaration of this adventure. “We're moving,” my son William shouted happily with big eyes as the train began to pull away from the Hutchinson station.

    I removed my shoes and lay down to try to finish my night's sleep. The sleeper car would have better enabled that, but the ordinary train seats were not too bad. An airline flight is a more miserable experience for me: not enough room, two hours of pain with my knees almost touching my chin, the hard seatback in front cracking my kneecaps (膝盖) with every move of the body planted in front of me. On the train I could almost outstretch all of my 6-foot-2-plus body in the generous legroom.

    The journey didn't feel at all as long as it was. We all found the train ride a joy. The car ride would have felt every minute of 13 hours. But on the train you are free to walk around, sit in the observation carriage for a while and enjoy the scenery out the windows, have a nice meal in the dining car, read a book, or play a board game.

    In short, the train is all about enjoying the trip, which isn't something I do so much when traveling by airline or by car, when the trip seems more of a mission (任务) to get there than an experience to enjoy along the way.

    Chicago offers much to do for a family. This time, getting there was half the fun.

    One of the greatest contributions to the first Oxford English Dictionary was also one of its most unusual. In 1879, Oxford University in England asked Prof. James Murray to serve as editor for what was to be the most ambitious dictionary in the history of the English language. It would include every  English word possible and would give not only the definition but also the history of the word and quotations (引文) showing how it was used.

    This was a huge task, so Murray had to find volunteers from Britain, the United States, and the British colonies to search every newspaper, magazine, and book ever written in English. Hundreds of volunteers responded, including William Chester Minor. Dr. Minor was an American surgeon who had served in the Civil War and was now living in England. He gave his address as “Broadmoor, Crowthorne, Berkshire,” 50 miles from Oxford.

    Minor joined the army of volunteers sending words and quotations to Murray. Over the next 17 years, he became one of the staff's most valued contributors.

    But he was also a mystery. In spite of many invitations, he would always decline to visit Oxford. So in 1897, Murray finally decided to travel to Crowthorne himself. When he arrived, he found Minor locked  in a book-lined cell at the Broadmoor Asylum (精神病院) for the Criminally Insane.

    Murray and Minor became friends, sharing their love of words. Minor continued contributing to the dictionary, sending in more than 10,000 submissions in 20 years. Murray continued to visit Minor regularly, sometimes taking walks with him around the asylum grounds.

    In 1910, Minor left Broadmoor for an asylum in his native America. Murray was at the port to wave goodbye to his remarkable friend.

    Minor died in 1920, seven years before the first edition of the Oxford English Dictionary was completed. The 12 volumes defined 414,825 words, and thousands of them were contributions from a very scholarly and devoted asylum patient.

    My parents grew up during the Depression(大萧条) attending small country churches. At the close of Christmas Eve services, each child was given a brown paper bag containing an apple, an orange, nuts and several chocolates.

Years later, whenever Dad recalled that tradition, his eyes shone reliving the memory. My mother didn't share his enthusiasm. She always said the chocolates tasted cheap and old.

    Cheap chocolates or not, the paper bags with goodies were an event. Gifts of any sort during the Depression were rare, especially in large farm families with seven children.

    When our children were young and we were home for Christmas one year, Mom and Dad gave each of the grandkids a brown paper bag holding an apple, an orange, nuts and several chocolates. When we finished the 8-hour drive home after the holiday, there was a message waiting on the phone when we walked in the door. “Your ungrateful kids left their apples and oranges in the back of our refrigerator. No more fruit for them!” Grandpa and Grandma were joking, of course, but still there was a degree of disrespect in the kids leaving behind thoughtfully chosen gifts.

    But the paper bag didn't have a context for our children. They had never known fruit to be a scarcity(缺乏). They didn't appreciate the gift because they had never experienced the need the gift was meant to fill.

    The same is true of Christmas today. We don't appreciate the true gift of the season because we don't understand the need the gift was given to fill.

It's not like we don't know we have needs. We know them, all right—patience, love, self-control, strength, courage, faithfulness, forgiveness—it's just that we have become experts at numbing(使麻木) ourselves to our needs.

    The true gift of the season is a perfect fit for our every need. When a gift like apples and oranges fits a need, there is a cheerful satisfaction. When the gift of a Christmas tree fits a need, there is the joy of Christmas.

    Australian cities can keep their native wildlife — but only if they can kick their habit of urban sprawl (扩展). That's the finding of a new study by leading Australian environmental researchers Jessica Sushinsky, Professor Hugh Possingham and Dr. Richard Fuller of The University of Queensland.

    “While urban development usually reduces the number of birds in a city, building more compact (紧凑的) cities and avoiding urban sprawl can slow these reductions greatly,” says lead author Jessica Sushinsky. “Compact housing development leaves birds' homes untouched, leading to fewer losses of birds.”

    The researchers surveyed native and wild birds in Brisbane's urban areas, including living and industrial areas, public parks and gardens, major roadways and airports. They then used statistical modeling to find out what will happen to the birds as the city grows. The first setting was compact growth — where multiple homes are built on land that previously had only one house. The second setting was sprawling growth — a familiar pattern where homes are built here and there beyond the city's current boundaries.

    The team's forecasts showed that a much greater diversity of species was lost over 20 years in the sprawling setting compared to the more compact setting. “Urban sprawl resulted in the disappearance of many urban-sensitive birds — birds that only live in areas where there is native vegetation (植被), such as parklands and woodlands,” Ms. Sushinsky says.

    “On the other hand, we found the city with the compact development attracted more birds because it kept more of its parks and green areas.”

    Now the Queensland Government has adopted the more compact urban growth strategy, which, Dr. Richard Fuller says, is good news for Australia's native birds. These birds are environmental specialists — they need a particular environment to do well. “While compact development means smaller backyards, it can also make our entire cities more biodiverse,” according to Dr. Fuller. “The study shows that we should hold on to our green spaces instead of clearing them for sprawling development.”

    This is the first time science has modeled the effects of different urban growth strategies on birds, the researchers say. “Statistical models like these are important because they help us to understand the ecological consequences of a particular decision,” says Dr Fuller.

    A latest research led by researchers from the National University of Singapore (NUS) has found a clear link between the color of a taxi and its accident rate. An analysis of 36 months of detailed taxi, driver and accident data from two fleets of yellow and blue taxis in Singapore suggested that yellow taxis have fewer accidents than blue taxis. The higher visibility of yellow makes it less difficult for drivers to avoid getting into accidents with yellow taxis, leading to a lower accident rate.

    The study was led by Prof Hou. To test whether there was a relationship between the color of a taxi and the number of accidents the taxi had, the research team analyzed data collected by the largest taxi company in Singapore. The researchers found that yellow taxis have about 6.1 fewer accidents per 1,000 taxis per month.

    They also studied the economic effect of changing the color of the entire fleet of taxis to yellow. The Singapore taxi company involved in the study owns about 16,700 taxis in a ratio (比例) of one yellow to three blue taxis. If a commercial decision is made to switch from blue to yellow taxis, 76.6 fewer accidents will occur per month or 917 fewer accidents per year.

    Assuming an average repair cost of $1,000 per car and a downtime of six days, the color of all taxis to yellow could produce an annual saving of $2 million.

    "We are eager to continue to validate(证实) the findings of our study by looking at the use of yellow in other types of public transport, such as school buses. For example, we hope to compare the accident rates of yellow school buses against those of other colors to find out if yellow is indeed a safer color for school buses. Besides, we're also interested to look at private-hire vehicles and do a comparison of the accident rates of vehicles that are of different colors, "explained Prof Hou.

    Two of the hardest things to accomplish in this world are to acquire wealth by honest effort and, having gained it, to learn how to use it properly. Recently I walked into the locker room of a rather well­known golf club after finishing a round. It was in the late afternoon and most of the members had left for their homes. But a half­dozen or so men past middle age were still seated at tables talking aimlessly and drinking more than was good for them. These same men can be found there day after day, and, strangely enough, each one of these men had been a man of affairs and wealth, successful in business and respected in the community. If material prosperity were the chief necessity for happiness, then each one should have been happy. Yet, it seemed to me, something very important was missing, else­there would not have been the constant effort to escape the realities of life through scotch and soda. They knew, each one of them, that their productivity had ceased (停止). When a fruit tree ceases to bear its fruit, it is dying. And it is even so with man.

    What is the answer to a long and happy existence in this world of ours? I think I found it long ago in a passage from the book of Genesis which caught my eye while I was looking through my Bible. The words were few, but they became memorably impressed on my mind. "In the sweat of the face shall you eat the bread."

    To me, that has been a challenge from my earliest recollections (memories). In fact, the battle of life, of existence, is a challenge to everyone. The immortal words of St. Paul, too, have been and always will be a great inspiration to me. At the end of the road I want to be able to feel that I have fought a good fight, I have finished the course, I have kept the faith.