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    One day when I was 12, my mother gave me an order: I was to walk to the public library, and borrow at least one book for the summer. This was one more weapon for her to defeat my strange problem—inability to read.

    In the library, I found my way into the “Children's Room.” I sat down on the floor and pulled a few books off the shelf at random. The cover of a book caught my eye. It presented a picture of a beagle. I had recently had a beagle, the first and only animal companion I ever had as a child. He was my secret sharer, but one morning, he was gone, given away to someone who had the space and the money to care for him. I never forgot my beagle.

    There on the book's cover was a beagle which looked identical(相同的) to my dog. I ran my fingers over the picture of the dog on the cover. My eyes ran across the title, Amos, the Beagle with a Plan. Unknowingly, I had read the title. Without opening the book, I borrowed it from the library for the summer.

    Under the shade of a bush, I started to read about Amos. I read very, very slowly with difficulty. Though pages were turned slowly, I got the main idea of the story about a dog who, like mine, had been separated from his family and who finally found his way back home. That dog was my dog, and I was the little boy in the book. At the end of the story, my mind continued the final scene of reunion, on and on, until my own lost dog and I were, in my mind, running together.

    My mother's call returned me to the real world. I suddenly realized something: I had read a book, and I had loved reading that book. Everyone knew I could not read. But I had read it. Books could be incredibly wonderful and I was going to read them.

    I never told my mother about my “miraculous(奇迹般的) ” experience that summer, but she saw a slow but ramarkable improvement in my classroom performance during the next year. And years later, she was proud that her son had read thousands of books, was awarded a PhD in the literature, and authored his own books, articles, poetry and fiction. The power of the words has held.

    My daughter Kelly is a cautious person. She needs to warm up to situations' and is hesitant to try new things. When with close friends, she becomes a leader who laughs loudly and chants, “Girls rule, boys drool.” But when that comfort zone is not around her, she is shy and nervous.

    This has been challenging for me at times. “Shy” is not a word that I think has ever been used to describe me. But this has been a year of firsts for my girl that has filled her with a new sense of confidence. This year she moved to lap lane in swimming where she was preparing for a swim team. This year she learned to ride a bike without training wheels. And this year she completed her first kids' triathlon (三项全能).

    On Saturday, with a thunderstorm coming soon and my son's birthday party later in the day, we all went out in the dark of the morning for Kelly to participate in her first triathlon. We practiced transitions from swim to bike to run with her, we got all the equipment she'd need, and we kept talking about the race. But as we waited the two hours for the older kids to finish before her turn, she held my leg a little harder and told me she loved me a few too many times. She was nervous but trying to keep it together.

    And then it was her turn. From the second she jumped into the water, my heart soared. My daughter transformed into the most confident human being I had ever seen. She dominated that swim, crushed that bike ride and ran to the finish with the biggest smile on her face.

    I can honestly say that I never felt so proud of someone in my entire life. It wasn't because she did a sport or anything like that. It was because she was afraid of something and conquered that fear with confidence and a fire I hadn't seen before.

    All day I would find myself just looking over at her and smiling. She might be wearing the finalist medal but I felt like I won that day. I won the chance to see my girl shine.

Shine on, sweet baby.

    Tourism is often about seeking deeper emotional and personal connections with the world around us. Not all travel experiences, however, need to take place in the real world. With the evolution of virtual reality (VR) technology, tourism will increasingly become a combination of physical and virtual worlds. VR may even remove the need to travel entirely.

    But can a VR experience really equal a real world one? Many experts believe it can. Studies have shown that our brains have an inbuilt VR-like mechanism that enables us to live imagined experiences. Much of our waking life is spent thinking about either the past or the future. This is known as" mind wandering". During these events we're not paying attention to the current world around us. Instead, we're recalling memories, or creating and processing imagined futures.

    When engaged in mind wandering, our brains process these mental images using the same pathways used to receive inputs from the real world. So, the imagined past or future can create emotions and feelings similar to how we react to everyday life. VR can create these same feelings.

    While critics might argue that a virtual experience will never match reality, there are several ways VR tourism could make a positive contribution. Firstly it could help protect sensitive locations from over-tourism. In recent years famous sites such as Maya Bay in Thailand, and Cambodia's Angkor Wat Temples have had to limit the number of visitors because of their negative impact. These places are now producing their own VR experiences that will allow tourists to pass through virtual models of the sites.

    Virtual reality may also allow people back in time, to experience historical events, visit ancient cities, and even to walk among dinosaurs.

    Finally, in a world where many people suffer from stress and depression due to overwork, virtual tourism may provide a cheap and convenient way for people to take brief holidays to otherwise unreachable destinations and recharge their batteries, without ever leaving their homes.

    It sounds like science fiction but it's already happening. As virtual technology improves and as people continue to demand new and interesting experiences, expect more virtual tourism, both in combination with the real world and instead of it.

    There were smiling children all the way. Clearly they knew at what time the train passed their homes and they made it their business to stand along the railway, wave to complete strangers and cheer them up as they rushed towards Penang. Often whole families stood outside their homes and waved and smiled as if those on the trains were their favorite relatives. This is the simple village people of Malaysia. I was moved.

    I had always traveled to Malaysia by plane or car, so this was the first time I was on a train. I did not particularly(特别) relish the long train journey and had brought along many magazines to read and reread. I looked about the train. There was not one familiar face. I sighed and sat down to read my Economics.

    It was not long before the train was across the Causeway and in Malaysia. Johor Bahru was just a city like Singapore, so I was tired of looking at the crowds of people as they hurried past. As we went beyond the city, I watched the straight rows of rubber trees and miles and miles of green. Then the first village came into sight. Immediately I came alive, I decided to wave back.

    From then on, my journey became interesting. I threw my magazines into the waste basket and decided to join in Malaysian life. Then everything came alive. The mountains seemed to speak to me. Even the trees were smiling. I stared at everything as if I was looking at it for the first time.

    The day passed fast and I even forgot to have my lunch until I felt hungry. I looked at my watch and was surprised that it was 3:00 pm. Soon the train pulled up at Butterworth. I looked at the people all round me. They all looked beautiful. When my uncle arrived with a smile, I threw my arms around him to give him a warm hug. I had never done this before. He seemed surprised and then his weather-beaten face warmed up with a huge smile. We walked arm in arm to his car.

    I looked forward to the return journey.

At thirteen, I was diagnosed (诊断) with a kind of attention disorder. It made school difficult for me. When everyone else in the class was focusing on tasks, I could not.

    In my first literature class, Mrs Smith asked us to read a story and then write on it, all within 45 minutes. I raised my hand right away and said, "Mrs Smith, you see, the doctor said I have attention problems. I might not be able to do it."

 She glanced at me through her glasses, "You are not different from your classmates, young man."

 I tried, but I didn't finish the reading when the bell rang. I had to take it home.

    In the quietness of my bedroom, the story suddenly all became clear to me. It was about a blind person, Louis Braille. He lived in a time when the blind couldn't get much education. But Louis didn't give up. Instead, he invented a reading system of raised dots (点), which opened up a whole new world of knowledge to the blind.

    Wasn't I the "blind" in my class, being made to learn like the "sighted" students? My thoughts spilled out (涌出) and my pen started to dance. I completed the task within 40 minutes. Indeed, I was not different from others; I just needed a quieter place. If Louis could find his way to solve his problems, why should I ever give up?

    I didn't expect anything when I handed in my paper to Mrs Smith, so it was quite a surprise when it came back to me the next day—with an "A" on it. At the bottom of the paper were these words: "See what you can do when you keep trying?"