The Thanksgiving Day ,the fourth Thursday in November, is coming in America. But do you know something about the annual(每年的)Macy's Thanksgiving Parade(游行) in New York?

    There are thousands of bystanders(看热闹的人)and millions of television viewers. The Parade is as traditional as turkey. The year 2016 was the 90th year of Macy's parade. It featured 15 huge balloons in the shape of cartoon and pop culture characters, 1,200 dancers and cheerleaders, 900 clowns(小丑),10 marching bands and nearly 9,000 workers, almost all of whom were volunteers.

    The floats(彩车)and balloons have been getting larger ,more colorful and more surprising since Macy's immigrant (移民的) workers organized the first Thanksgiving Day Parade.

    In 2016, school children were invited to the Macy's parade studios(画室) outside New York City, for a first look at several just completed floats.

    Bella was excited to be there. “I think it's great because I get to see all of these floats before anyone else does in the parade,” said Bella.

    John Piper is the president of Macy's Studio. He said his work was fun all the time. “It's a lot of work. All year long, the artists at Macy's Studio all build these floats. We create them from scratch(涂抹). I have the finest carpenters(木匠), metal workers, painters all cooperating(合作) together,” said Piper.

    The floats were supposed to advertise for commercial sponsors(赞助商) for the start of the Christmas season. But Amy Kule, the event producer said, “ And the floats are used to keep the beauty and the majesty(庄严)of the parade. A Thanksgiving parade is always about giving back and entertaining(娱乐). But most importantly, it's about leaving it for the next generation.”

    He must have had that nice window seat all the way from London. An Indian, he looked under 40, medium height, slim and wore a suit. I got an aisle seat next to him. I looked at him and tried to smile as I sat down. But there was a blank, distant look that made me stop mid-smile. One of those, I thought.

    Each time I take a flight, I try to chat with a fellow passenger. Most people are responsive when they're alone at 40,000 feet. But the man wearing the suit on my left was a puzzle. One of those non-resident Indians, I thought. What do you lose if you just smiled at a fellow human being? Most of the time, he stared fixedly at the seat in front of him. Why are some people so full of themselves?

    When the stewardess brought lunch, the unfriendly man had his eyes shut. She gave me a should-I-wake-him-up look. I didn't say anything, and he didn't get his lunch. Serves him right. He soon woke up and saw me eat. But he didn't ask for his meal. He could just have pressed a button. That's his problem.

    We still have almost two hours of flying left. I read a magazine. I try to play a video game. I listen to music. He does nothing. At times our eyes meet, but he isn't all there. He's like no other passenger I've ever sat next to. By the time our jet lands in Mumbai, I find his presence almost uncomfortable. As we taxi down the runway, I hear the man speak for the first time—on his mobile phone. He seems to be discussing his connecting flight. About somebody receiving him… Just before the aircraft comes to a halt, he's the first to stand up. “Excuse me,” he says to me. “May I leave? I can't miss my connecting flight.”

    Hmm…! I get up to make way for him when he goes on mechanically, “My wife and child died in a road accident in Delhi.” I'm shocked by his words. Suddenly, everything falls in place.

    Despite his terrible loss and the sufferings he has been enduring, he was calm, controlled throughout. And, maybe, in the midst of his soul-crushing sorrow, he didn't want to burden a stranger with his pain.

    Ammie Reddick was only 18 months old when she had the accident that had scarred（留下创伤） her for life. The curious child reached up to grab the wire of a hot kettle in the family kitchen and poured boiling water over her tiny infant frame.

    Her mother Ruby turned round and, seeing Ammie horribly burnt, called an ambulance which rushed her daughter to a nearby hospital. Twenty percent of Ammie's body had been burned and all of her burns were third-degree. There, using tissue taken from unburned areas of Ammie's body, doctors performed complex skin transplants to close her wounds and control her injuries. Over the next 16 years, Ammie underwent 12 more operations to repair her body.

    When she started school at Maxwelton Primary at age 4, other pupils made cruel comments or simply wouldn't play with her. “I was the only burned child in the street, the class and the school,” she recalled, “some children refused to become friends because of that.”

    Today, aged 17, Ammie can only ever remember being a burned person with scars; pain is a everlasting part of her body. Yet she is a confident, outgoing teenager who offers inspiration and hope to other young burns victims.

    She is a member of the Scottish Burned Children's Club, a charity set up last year. This month, Ammie will be joining the younger children at the Graffham Water Center in Cambridgeshire for the charity's first summer camp. “I'll show them how to get rid of unkind stares from others,” she says. Ammie loves wearing fashionable sleeveless tops, and she plans to show the youngsters at the summer camp that they can too. “I do not go to great lengths to hide my burns scars,” she says, “I gave up wondering how other people would react years ago.”

    My summer hols wr CWOT. B4, WE USED 2go 2 NY 2C my bro, his GF & thr 3 :-@ KIDS FTF. ILNY, its gr8.

    Can you understand this sentence? If you can't, don't feel too bad: neither could the middle school teacher in England who received this as homework. This is Netspeak: the language of computerized communication found on the Internet or cellphones. To newcomers, it can look like a completely foreign language.

    School teachers and parents say this new form of writing is harming (破坏) the English language. Increasing spelling and grammatical mistakes can be seen in students' writing. They fear the language could become corrupted (面目全非的).

    Everyone should just relax, say linguists (语言学家). They believe Netspeak is in fact more of a good thing. David Crystal, from the University of Wales, argues that Netspeak and Internet create a new language use and the almost lost art of diary writing has been picked up again. Geoffrey Nurnberg, from Stanford University, agrees. “People get better at writing by writing,” he says. “Kids who are now doing text messaging, e-mail, and instant messages will write at least as well as, and possibly better than, their parents.”

    Linguist James Milroy says, for centuries, it is believed without exception that young people are harming the language. And when today's teenagers become tomorrow's parents, they too will think this way. Milroy argues that languages do not and cannot become “corrupted”; they simply change to meet the new needs.

    However, Netspeakers do agree that it is important to teach young people how to speak and write Standard English. Cynthia McVey says, “I can understand Netspeak worries teachers and it's important that they tell their pupils that text messaging is for fun, but that learning to write proper English is a must for their future.”

    The boy sat on his chair, with his hand above the keyboard. He thought about what to write.

    He recalled that the competition deadline was merely a week away. But he still had not even started on his piece. He looked at the brochure again." WRITING COMPETITION!" the title read. His mom had encouraged him to enter the writing competition, and now he was taking it on as his personal task for the holidays.

    As the boy reflected on his previous writing efforts, he realized how hopeless his task of winning was. Every story he ever wrote was based on other stories. He had little imagination, and unfortunately, imagination was the key to writing.

    Suddenly, he had a brainwave. This time, he came up with an original and imaginative story.

    The words shot towards him like a storm of leaves. Words were coming easily, flowing through him, faster than he could type. He typed faster than he ever had before. He continued to type, amazed at how easy writing this story was. The boy could not stop writing. He looked at the word count and saw the number" 248" staring right back at him. He was not even halfway yet.

    Then he heard the call of his mother saying time for bed. He continued writing the piece, ignoring her. He had to make up for the time he had lost thinking about a topic to write.

    Finally, he finished. The word count now read"498".

    "Perfect," he thought," just under the word limit." He knew this was the story that would win.

    He went onto Google and searched for the competition. He found the page but there was no "Enter" button.

    It was only a dollar. Belscher noticed it on the floor as he sat at the back of his English class. When the school day ended, Belscher wandered back to the classroom. The old bill was still there. He could easily have pocketed it without thinking twice. Instead, he picked it up and brought it to his English teacher, Mattison.

    "It wasn't my money," Belscher says. Mattison was a little surprised he'd turned the dollar in, knowing a lot of people would have just kept it. She suggested that Belscher tape(贴) it to the whiteboard at the front of the classroom, where she always puts lost things.

    Rose, another student, was in English class after break when he spotted the dollar on the whiteboard. After class, he asked Mattison why it was there. She was still waiting for the original owner to claim it, so she replied, "I don't know." Rose took the tape from Mattison's desk and taped a second dollar to the board.

    That got it rolling. The sight of the two dollar bills, side by side, started something in Mattison's students. They started asking about the purpose of the money, to which Mattison always gave the same answer: She didn't know. At that point, it was true.

    More students, curious, taped up single dollar bills. Mattison started to leave the tape on the tray of the whiteboard. The effort snowballed. Even with no clear purpose, many students wanted to be part of whatever this was. The amount continued to grow over several weeks, until it reached $175.76.

    That left Mattison to make the best decision. She kept thinking about her brother-in-law, Jack Hains. Eight years earlier, Jack had died of amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS), a rare and devastating neurological disease(神经疾病).

    Mattison explained to her classes that Jack had raised money every spring for the ALS Therapy Development Institute, established to seek a cure for the disease. She asked the teens whether they minded if she donated the dollars in their names in honor of Jack.

    Their answer was to tape enough money to the whiteboard over the next few days to push the amount to $321.06. Mattison, choking back tears as she recalls the moment, says she carefully picked the cash off the board and made the donation just before the beginning of May, which is National ALS Awareness Month. That was Saturday. By Monday afternoon, eight more dollars had been taped to the board.