Bit by bit, the sand dust that fills the sky is dying down. The blue sky and the burning sun once again hang over the desert.

    He is on the road, driving his beat-up yellow cab. The sides of the road are littered with damaged vehicles. Masses of smoke in the distance tell him that a war is being dragged on throughout his country.

    It's a fine day despite the choking heat. Not a breath of wind is blowing.

    A group of vehicles are traveling towards him, carrying many passengers. The scene reminds him of the market days in this country when crowds of trucks transport folks to the markets; the only difference is, this time, they are not trucks, but tanks, carrying foreigners, guns in hand. He stares at them. They stare back. So they pass by one another.

    “The damned war!” he whispers bitterly. Two days ago, a bomb fell on the market in front of his house, destroying nearly everything in sight. He survived by luck. He decided then and there that he would give up this cab business. This will be his final run. After this, he will leave this place together with his wife and children.

    “Shala and my children, we'll soon meet each other again, after I'm done here.” He turns his head to take a glance at a photo of his wife and children. The glass on the frame is broken, but their smiles in the picture do not fail to provide him with the only comfort that he has.

    Shortly he arrives at a checkpoint. Tanks sit by the side of the road, the sight of which sends a marked coldness through his backbone. A bunch of soldiers armed to the teeth stand by. A foreign soldier signals him to stop. He calms himself down and pulls over. During the past few days, nearly no civilian（平民）vehicles come out of the capital city, his car being the only one on roads.

    A few foreign soldiers come up to him, one, two, three, four, five. The leader bends over to have a look at the old car, then at him. “Where do you come from and where are you going?” With a smile on his face, he answers with a broken speech in the tongue that the soldier can understand, “Sir, I come from the capital. I'm leaving that place because it is a very dangerous place to be, with the war and everything.”

    While talking, he hands a cigarette over to the soldier, then lights it up for him.

    “When will the war end?” he asks.

    “It won't take long. We'll soon give all of you in the capital the true freedom.” The soldier breathes a deep mouthful. He seems to have spotted the photo in the car, “The cigarette is not bad at all. Are those your wife and kids? I have two of my own, roughly the same age.”

    “Oh, yes, they are mine and they are constantly on my mind. They left the city a bit earlier, and I'm on my way to be reunited with them. Perhaps I'm never coming back. Driving a cab around during war times is too dangerous. I'm giving up the business.” He looks at the soldier, still smiling.

    “After we overthrow your dictator(独裁者), you won't have that to worry about. You can come back and pick up your life again.” The soldier is leaning on the door of the car. It is perhaps the first time in many days that he has seen a happy face among the local people. It cheers him up.

    “Maybe, but I have to go to see my family. If you would pay us a visit, my wife will prepare a good meal for all of you. Come with me. This is going to be my last business run and I won't even charge you.”

    “Can't make it. We're on duty. Give our regards to your wife and kids.” The soldier is a bit excited, thinking maybe quite some locals have open arms for them after all. “Oh, yes, I almost forgot. The south is battle-infected. Where is your family?”

    Still smiling, he picks up the broken picture frame, presses a kiss on the photo, then turns around, staring into the eyes of that soldier, not quite himself from excitement, and the other foreign soldiers holding guns. Words drop out of his lips slowly but firmly: “Paradise.”

    Perhaps the last thing he sees is the confused, fearful, twisted expression on the face of that soldier, and the cigarette end dropping from his fingers. Then he pushes the button.

Two good friends, Simon and Jason, met with a car accident on their way home one snowy night. The next morning, Simon woke up blind. His legs were broken. The doctor, Mr. Smith, was standing by his bed, looking at him worriedly. When he saw Simon awake, he asked, " How are you feeling, Simon?” Simon smiled and said, “Not bad, doctor. Thank you very much for doing the special operation. Mr. Smith was moved by Simon. When he was leaving, Simon said, "Please don't tell Jason about it. “Well…Well…OK,” Mr. Smith replied.

Months later when Jason's wounds healed, Simon was still very sick. He couldn't see or walk. He could do nothing but stay in his wheelchair all day long. At first, Jason stayed with him for a few days. But days later, Jason thought it boring to spend time with a disabled man like Simon. So he went to see Simon less and less. He made new friends. From then on, he didn't go to visit Simon any more. Simon didn't have any family or friends except Jason. He felt very sad.

    Things went from bad to worse. Simon died a year later. When Jason came, Mr. Smith gave him a letter from Simon. In the letter Simon said, “Dear Jason, I am disabled. But I want you to be a healthy man. So I gave my eyes to you so that you can enjoy life as a healthy man. Now you have new friends.

I'm glad to see that you are as healthy and happy as usual. I'm glad you live a happy life. You are always my best friend". Simon”. When he finished reading the letter, Mr. Smith said, “I have promised that I will keep this a secret until Simon is gone. Now you know it.

    Jason stood there like a stone. Tears ran down his face.

    My motivation for starting our family tradition of reading in the car was purely selfish: I could not bear listening to A Sesame Street Christmas for another 10 hours. My three children had been addicted to this cassette on our previous summer's road trip.

    As I began to prepare for our next 500-mile car trip,I came across a book Jim Trelease's The Read Aloud Handbook. This could be the answer to my problem, I thought. So I put Roald Dahl's James and the Giant Peach into my bag. When I began to read aloud the tale of the boy who escapes the bad guys by hiding inside a giant peach, my three kids argued and wrestled in their seats. But after several lines, they were attracted into the rhythm of the words and began to listen.

    We soon learned that the simple pleasure of listening to a well-written book makes the long miles pass more quickly. Sometimes the books we read became highlights of the trip. I read Wilson Rawls's Summer of the Monkeys as we spent two days driving to the beach. We arrived just behind the power crews restoring(恢复)electricity after a tropical storm. The rain continued most of the week, and the beach was covered with oil washed up by the storm. When we returned home, I asked my son what he liked about the trip. He answered without hesitation, “The book you read in the car. ”

    Road trips still offer challenges, even though my children now are teenagers. But we continue to read as we roll across the country. And I'm beginning to see that reading aloud has done more than help pass the time. For at least a little while, we are not shut in our own electronic worlds. And maybe we've started something that will pass on to the next generation.

    Since Brandon was a kid, he has loved playing baseball. For him, baseball, was and still is his life and his impetus and drive for staying in school.

    But as Brandon got older, he started making bad choices. He cut classes, hung out with the wrong friends and got suspended(被停学)often. His grandmother took care of the family and his mom worked 12-hour shifts at a car lot, doing everything she could to provide for the family.

    Dr. Decmona Warren, a teacher of a Communities In Schools(CIS), saw the signs but when she tried to help, Brandon wouldn't take it. “When I heard her call my name, I would nearly run away. ”Brandon said later.

    His GPA(平均成绩)fell to a 1. 4 and Brandon was kicked out of the baseball team. He knew if he wanted to play baseball, he had to stop acting like that. Determined to become successful both on the field and in the classroom, Brandon decided to embrace the support from Communities In Schools. He turned to Dr. Warren, who welcomed him as a CIS student with open arms. From tutoring to parent-teacher conferences, he allowed Dr. Warren to become his“school mom”, and slowly, things started to turn around.

    “CIS of Atlanta has made a big difference in my life. This program has taught me to think before I act and make better choices in choosing friends. Before CIS it seemed like every week I was either out of school or in school suspension. Once when I was an honor student in middle school, I found myself failing miserably in almost all of my classes as a freshman in high school. But with the help of CIS I am now back on track, more focused and determined to do better in my academics and behavior. ”

    He's back on the team now playing in the Catcher position, with a 2. 8 GPA. He is already looking at colleges for baseball scholarships.

    Explorers had been landing in America for some time before English settlers arrived in what is now Jamestown, Virginia, in 1607. But it was in that spot on the James River that English colonization(殖民化) began, and with it, the history of America.

    James I was the king of England at that time, and he had granted approval for a group of businessmen who were part of the Virginia Company to settle in this new land. In all, 214 people set sail for America. They reached it on May 14, 1607. Very soon after they landed, the English found themselves under attack from Algonquins, a native American tribe(部落) who had been living in that area for some time. The English managed to drive off the attackers and stay there.

Under the leadership of Captain John Smith, the English built a fort(城堡)and other buildings designed to protect their new colony. They also found friendly native Americans, like Powhatan, who was willing to trade with them.

    There was a terrible winter in 1609 and only 60 of the 214 settlers survived, which was also hard on Powhatan's tribe and other neighboring native Americans.

    One of the main crops grown by the English settlers was tobacco, which they sold to native Americans and to people back in England, beginning in 1612. Tobacco became a very popular crop because it was easy to grow and because it brought in so much money.

    Once the money started flowing in regularly, the Jamestown colony grew, as did other settlements in Virginia and in other states along the eastern coastline.

    America's first elected assembly (议会), the House of Burgesses, met in Jamestown for the first time on July 30, 1619. The year 1619 also saw another significant development: the first arrival of black workers on boats from Africa. These men and women were originally servants, who worked a small piece of land for a few years and then got to keep the land as owners. Jamestown was also the capital of Virginia and remained so until 1698.

    On a recent spring morning. Susan Alexander, a retired government intelligence analyst, left her Maryland home, climbed into her Volkswagen Passat and drove about three miles to pick up two strangers. She battled rush-hour traffic on the Capital Beltway and George Washington Memorial Parkway before dropping them off at Reagan National Airport. She didn't earn a cent for her trouble, and that was the point.

    Alexander is a member of the Silver Spring Time Bank— one of more than 100 such exchanges around the world trying to build community by exchanging time credits for services instead of dollars and cents. "I have time," she said. "I like giving the gift of time to other people."

    In Alexander's case, passengers Mary and Al Liepold were grateful for the ride, but it wasn't charity. Mary, a retired writer and editor for nonprofit organizations, used time credits she banked for editing work and baking. Senior citizens who don't drive, the Liepolds cashed in their credits to catch a flight to Montreal for a five-day vacation.

    Without money changing hands or shifting between virtual accounts, the airport drop-off was more like a coffee party than a taxi ride. Driver and passengers chatted about projects they've completed for the time bank, and no one raised an eyebrow when Mary said she likes "to avoid the conventional economy."

    "The beauty of this is that you make friends," Mary Liepold said. "You don't just get services."

    The Silver Spring Time Bank formed in 2015 and has about 300 members, said co-founder Mary Murphy. Last year, she said, l,000 hours were exchanged for basic home repairs, dog walking, cooking and tailoring, among other services, without the exchange of money." You get to save that money that you would have spent," she said. "You get to meet somebody else in your community and get to know that person. That's a bonus that's part of an exchange."

    A deal performed partly to make friends would seem to go against classical economics and one of Benjamin Franklin's most memorable sayings: "Time is money." To those at the forefront of modern time-banking, that is the appeal.