You are the only one like you in a sea of infinity!!!

<P>[RM=300,2,true]http://i6.sina.com.cn/edu/cri/Beauty.wma[/RM]</P>
<P>　Consider… YOU. In all time before now and in all time to come, there has never been and will never be anyone just like you. You are unique in the entire history and future of the universe. Wow! Stop and think about that. You're better than one in a million, or a billion, or a 1)gazillion… </P>
<P>　　You are the only one like you in a sea of infinity!!! </P>
<P>　　You're amazing! You're awesome! And by the way, TAG, you're it. As amazing and awesome as you already are, you can be even more so. Beautiful young people are the whimsey of nature, but beautiful old people are true works of art. But you don't become "beautiful" just by virtue of the aging process. </P>
<P>　　Real beauty comes from learning, growing, and loving in the ways of life. That is the Art of Life. You can learn slowly, and sometimes painfully, by just waiting for life to happen to you. Or you can choose to accelerate your growth and intentionally devour life and all it offers. You are the artist that paints your future with the brush of today. </P>
<P>　　Paint a Masterpiece. </P>
<P>　　God gives every bird its food, but he doesn't throw it into its nest. Wherever you want to go, whatever you want to do, it's truly up to you. </P>

<P><STRONG>The Little Prince 小王子</STRONG></P>

<P>[rm=300,2,0]http://i6.sina.com.cn/edu/cri/prince.wma[/rm]</P>
<P>Oh, little prince! Bit by bit I came to understand the secrets of your only entertainment in the quiet pleasure of looking at the sunset. I learned that new detail on the morning of the fourth day, when you said to me: </P>
<P>　　"I am very fond of sunsets. Come, let us go look at a sunset now." </P>
<P>　　"But we must wait," I said. </P>
<P>　　"Wait? For what?" </P>
<P>　　"For the sunset. We must wait until it is time." </P>
<P>　　At first you seemed to be very much surprised. And then you laughed to yourself. You said to me: </P>
<P>　　"I am always thinking that I am at home!" </P>
<P>　　Just so. Everybody knows that when it is noon in the United States the sun is setting over France. </P>
<P>　　If you could fly to France in one minute, you could go straight into the sunset, right from noon. Unfortunately, France is too far away for that. But on your tiny planet, my little price, all you need do is move your chair a few steps. You can see the day end and the twilight falling whenever you like… </P>
<P>　　"One day," you said to me, "I saw the sunset forty-four times!" </P>
<P>　　And a little later you added: </P>
<P>　　"You know—one loves the sunset, when one is so sad…" </P>
<P>　　"Were you so sad, then?" I asked, "on the day of the forty-four sunset?" </P>
<P>　　But the little prince made no reply. </P>
<P>　　On the fifth day—again, as always, it was thanks to the sheep—the secret of the little prince's life was revealed to me. Abruptly, without anything to lead up to it, and as if the question had been born of long and silent meditation on his problem, he demanded: </P>
<P><IMG src="http://image2.sina.com.cn/edu/en/2004-11-15/U274P42T31D27151F916DT20041115194936.jpg">
<P>　　"A sheep—if it eats little bushes, does it eat flowers, too?" </P>
<P>　　"A sheep," I answered, "eats anything it finds in its reach." </P>
<P>　　"Even flowers that have thorns?" </P>
<P>　　"Yes, even flowers that have thorns." </P>
<P>　　"Then the thorns—what use are they?" </P>
<P>　　I did not know. At that moment I was very busy trying to unscrew a bolt that had got stuck in my engine. I was very much worried, for it was becoming clear to me that the breakdown of my plane was extremely serious. And I had so little drinking-water left that I had to fear for the worst. </P>
<P>　　"The thorns—what use are they?" </P>
<P>　　The little prince never let go of a question, once he had asked it. As for me, I was upset over that bolt. And I answered with the first thing that came into my head: </P>
<P>　　"The thorns are of no use at all. Flowers have thorns just for spite." </P>
<P>　　"Oh!" </P>
<P>　　There was a moment of complete silence. Then the little prince flashed back at me, with a kind of resentfulness: </P>
<P>　　"I don't believe you! Flowers are weak creature. They are native. They reassure themselves at best they can. They believe that their thorns are terrible weapons…" </P>
<P>　　I did not answer. At that instant I was saying to myself: "If this bolt still won't turn, I am going to knock it out with the hammer." Again the little price disturbed my thoughts. </P>
<P>　　"And you actually believe that the flowers—" </P>
<P>　　"Oh, no!" I cried. "No, no, no! I don't believe anything. I answered you the first thing that came into my head. Don't you see—I am very busy with matters of consequence!" </P>
<P>　　He stared at me, thunderstruck. </P>
<P>　　"Matters of consequence!" </P>
<P>　　He looked at me there, with my hammer in my hand, my fingers black with engine-grease, bending over an object which seemed to him extremely ugly… </P>
<P>　　"You talk just like the grown-ups!" </P>
<P>　　That made me a little ashamed. But he went on, relentlessly: </P>
<P>　　"You mix everything up together…You confuse everything…" </P>
<P>　　He was really very angry. He tossed his golden curls in the breeze. </P>
<P>　　The little prince was now white with rage. </P>
<P>　　"The flowers have been growing thorns for millions of years. For millions of years the sheep have been eating them just the same. And is it not a matter of consequence to try to understand why the flowers go to so much trouble to grow thorns which are never of any use to them? Is the warfare between the sheep and the flowers not important? And if I know—I, myself—one flower which is unique in the world, which grows nowhere but on my planet, but which one little sheep can destroy in a single bite some morning, without even noticing what he is doing—Oh! You think that is not important!" </P>
<P>　　His face turned from white to red as he continued: </P>
<P>　　"If some one loves a flower, of which just one single blossom grows in all the millions and millions of stars. He can say to himself, 'Somewhere, my flower is there…' But if the sheep eats the flower, in one moment all his stars will be darkened…And you think that is not important!" </P>
<P>　　He could not say anything more. His words were choked by sobbing. </P>
<P>　　The night had fallen. I had let my tools drop from my hands. Of what moment now was my hammer, my bolt, or thirst, or death? On one star, one planet, my planet, the Earth, there was a little prince to be comforted, I took him in my arms and rocked him. I said to him: </P>
<P>　　"The flower that you love is not in danger. I will draw you a muzzle for your sheep. I will draw you a railing to put around your flower. I will—" </P>
<P>　　I did not know what to say to him. I felt awkward and blundering. I did not know how I could reach him, where I could overtake him and go on hand in hand with him once more. </P>
<P>　　It is such a secret place, the land of tears. </P>

<P><STRONG>A Boy and His Tree男孩和树</STRONG></P>

<P>[rm=300,2,0]http://i6.sina.com.cn/edu/cri/tree.wma[/rm]</P>
<P>　A long time ago, there was a huge apple tree. A little boy loved to come and play around it every day. He climbed to the tree top, ate the apples, took a nap under the shadow… He loved the tree and the tree loved to play with him. </P>
<P>　　Time went by…The little boy had grown up and he no longer played around the tree. </P>
<P>　　One day, the boy came back to the tree and looked sad. “Come and play with me,” the tree asked the boy. </P>
<P>　　“I am no longer a kid, I don’t’ play around trees anymore.” The boy replied, “I want toys. I need money to buy them.” “Sorry, but I don’t have money…but you can pick all my apples and sell them. So, you will have money.” The boy was so excited. He picked all the apples on the tree and left happily. The boy didn’t come back after he picked the apples. The tree was sad. </P>
<P>　　One day, the boy returned and the tree was so excited. “Come and play with me.” The tree said. “I don’t have time to play. I have to work for my family. We need a house for shelter. Can you help me?” “Sorry, but I don’t’ have a house. But you can cut off my branches to build your house.” So the boy cut all the branches of the tree and left happily. </P>
<P>　　The tree was glad to see him happy but the boy didn’t appear since then. The tree was again lonely and sad. One hot summer day, the boy returned and the tree was delighted. “Come and play with me!” the tree said. </P>
<P>　　“I am sad and getting old. I want to go sailing to relax myself. Can you give me a boat?” “Use my trunk to build the boat. You can sail and be happy.” So the boy cut the tree trunk to make a boat. He went sailing and did not show up for a long time. </P>
<P>　　Finally, the boy returned after he left for so many years. “Sorry, my boy. But I don’t’ have anything for you anymore. No more apples for you.” the tree said. “ I don’t have teeth to bite.” The boy replied. “ No more trunk for you to climb on.” “I am too old for that now.” the boy said. “I really want to give you something…the only thing left is my dying roots.” The tree said with tears. “I don’t’ need much now, just a place to rest. I am tired after all these years.” The boy replied. “Good! Old tree roots are the best place to lean on and rest. Come here, please sit down with me and have a rest.” The boy sat down and the tree was glad and smiled with tears… </P>
<P>　　This is a story of everyone. The tree is our parent. When we were young, we loved to play with Mom and Dad… When we grow up, we leave them, and only come to them when we need something or when we are in trouble. No matter what, parents will always be there and give everything they could to make you happy. You may think that the boy is cruel to the tree but that's how all of us are treating our parents. </P>

<P><STRONG>A Little Piece of Me生命的过客</STRONG></P>

<P>[rm=300,2,0]http://i6.sina.com.cn/edu/cri/live.wma[/rm]</P>
<P>　When he told me he was leaving I felt like a vase which has just smashed. There were pieces of me all over the tidy, tan tiles. He kept talking, telling me why he was leaving, explaining it was for the best, I could do better, it was his fault and not mine. I had heard it before many times and yet somehow was still not immune; perhaps one did not become immune to such felony.</P>
<P>　　He left and I tried to get on with my life. I filled the kettle and put it on to boil, I took out my old red mug and filled it with coffee watching as each coffee granule slipped in to the bone china. That was what my life had been like, endless omissions of coffee granules, somehow never managing to make that cup of coffee. </P>
<P>　　Somehow when the kettle piped its finishing warning I pretended not to hear it. That's what Mike's leaving had been like, sudden and with an awful finality. I would rather just wallow in uncertainty than have things finished. I laughed at myself. Imagine getting all philosophical and sentimental about a mug of coffee. I must be getting old.</P>
<P>And yet it was a young woman who stared back at me from the mirror. A young woman full of promise and hope, a young woman with bright eyes and full lips just waiting to take on the world. I never loved Mike anyway. Besides there are more important things. More important than love, I insist to myself firmly. The lid goes back on the coffee just like closure on the whole Mike experience.</P>
<P>　　He doesn't haunt my dreams as I feared that night. Instead I am flying far across fields and woods, looking down on those below me. Suddenly I fall to the ground and it is only when I wake up that I realize I was shot by a hunter, brought down by the burden of not the bullet but the soul of the man who shot it. I realize later, with some degree of understanding, that Mike was the hunter holding me down and I am the bird that longs to fly. The next night my dream is similar to the previous nights, but without the hunter. I fly free until I meet another bird who flies with me in perfect harmony. I realize with some relief that there is a bird out there for me, there is another person, not necessarily a lover perhaps just a friend, but there is someone out there who is my soul mate. I think about being a broken vase again and realize that I have glued myself back together, what Mike has is merely a little part of my time in earth, a little understanding of my physical being. He has only, a little piece of me. </P>

<P><STRONG>A Walk in the Woods 林中漫步</STRONG></P>

<P>[rm=300,2,0]http://i6.sina.com.cn/edu/cri/aa.wma[/rm]</P>
<P>I was puzzled! Why was this old woman making such a fuss about an old copse which was of no use to anybody? She had written letters to the local paper, even to a national, protesting about a projected by-pass to her village, and, looking at a map, the route was nowhere near where she lived and it wasn't as if the area was attractive. I was more than puzzled, I was intrigued. </P>
<P>　　The enquiry into the route of the new by-pass to the village was due to take place shortly, and I wanted to know what it was that motivated her. So it was that I found myself knocking on a cottage door, being received by Mary Smith and then being taken for a walk to the woods. </P>
<P>　　"I've always loved this place", she said, "it has a lot of memories for me, and for others. We all used it. They called it 'Lovers lane'. It's not much of a lane, and it doesn't go anywhere important, but that's why we all came here. To be away from people, to be by ourselves " she added. </P>
<P>　　It was indeed pleasant that day and the songs of many birds could be heard. Squirrels gazed from the branches, quite bold in their movements, obviously few people passed this way and they had nothing to fear. I could imagine the noise of vehicles passing through these peaceful woods when the by-pass was built, so I felt that she probably had something there but as I hold strong opinions about the needs of the community over-riding the opinions of private individuals, I said nothing. The village was quite a dangerous place because of the traffic especially for old people and children, their safety was more important to me than an old woman's whims. </P>
<P>　　"Take this tree", she said pausing after a short while. "To you it is just that, a tree. Not unlike many others here". She gently touched the bark. "Look here, under this branch, what can you see?" </P>
<P>　　"It looks as if someone has done a bit of carving with a knife" I said after a cursory inspection. </P>
<P>　　"Yes, that's what it is!" she said softly. "There are letters and a lover's heart". </P>
<P>　　I looked again, this time more carefully. The heart was still there and there was a suggestion of an arrow through it. The letters on one side were indistinct, but on the other an 'R' was clearly visible with what looked like an 'I' after it. "Some budding romance?" I asked, "did you know who they were?" </P>
<P>　　"Oh yes, I knew them", said Mary Smith, "it says RH loves MS". </P>
<P>　　I realised that I could be getting out of my depth, and longed to be in my office, away from here and this old lady, snug, and with a mug of tea in my hand. </P>
<P>　　She went on …"He had a penknife with a spike for getting stones from a horse's hoof, and I helped him to carve my initials. We were very much in love, but he was going away, and could not tell me what he was involved in the army. I had guessed of course. It was the last evening we ever spent together，because he went away the next day, back to his Unit. " </P>
<P>　　Mary Smith was quiet for a while, then she sobbed. "His mother showed me the telegram. 'Sergeant R Holmes ….. Killed in action in the 9)invasion of France'". </P>
<P>　　"'I had hoped that you and Robin would one day get married" she said, "He was my only child, and I would have loved to be a Granny, they would have been such lovely babies'- she was like that! " </P>
<P>　　"Two years later she too was dead. 'Pneumonia, following a chill on the chest' was what the doctor said, but I think it was an old fashioned broken heart. A child would have helped both of us." </P>
<P>　　There was a further pause. Mary Smith gently caressed the wounded tree, just as she would have caressed him. "And now they want to take our tree away from me." Another quiet sob, then she turned to me. "I was young and pretty then, I could have had anybody, I wasn't always the old woman you see here now. I had everything I wanted in life, a lovely man, health and a future to look forwards to". </P>
<P>　　She paused again and looked around. The breeze gently moved through the leaves with a sighing sound. "There were others, of course, but not a patch on my Robin!" she said strongly. "And now I have nothing - except the memories this tree holds. If only I could get my hands on that awful man who writes in the paper about the value of the road they are going to build where we are standing now, I would tell him. Has he never loved, has he never lived, does he not know anything about memories? We were not the only ones, you know, I still meet some who came here as Robin and I did. Yes, I would tell him!" </P>

<P><STRONG>The Magical Blue</STRONG></P>

<P>　Blue is the world ‘s favorite color. It is also the color most often associated with intellect and authority. </P>
<P>　　Most uniforms are blue. In Greek and Roman mythology, blue is the color of sky gods. In the Old Testament, God is represented by deep blue. </P>
<P>　　Blue and the turquoise is represented by the Islamic religion. It is the dominant color in the mosques of the world. </P>
<P>　　Blue symbolizes truth, peace and cooperation. It is the color of flag of the United Nations and of Europe. </P>
<P>　　As the coolest color of the spectrum, it is the hue most likely to have a receding effect. </P>
<P>　　As in the skies and water that surround us, blue is seen as a peaceful and refreshing color. </P>
<P>　　Blue light has seen to lower blood pressure by calming the nervous system hence relaxing the body and mind. Blue creates large airy spaces. It makes rooms bigger. </P>
<P>　　The wrong shade of blue can be uncomfortable. It can also be cold and sterile unless balanced with warmer colors. </P>
<P>　　Blue bedrooms are restful. Blue bath rooms are appropriately watery. Blue acquires depth with greens and reds. </P>
<P>　　Light and soft blue make us feel quite and protected from the bustle and activity of the day. </P>
<P>　　Dark blue represents the night making us calm. The deeper the blue, the more relaxing the room. Blue’s apparently calming effect makes it the perfect tone for the quieter zones of you living space. </P>[RM=300,2,false]http://i6.sina.com.cn/edu/cri/tc041215002.wma[/RM]
[align=right][color=#000066][此贴子已经被作者于2006-2-25 16:05:01编辑过][/color][/align]

<P><STRONG>My Miraculous Family</STRONG></P>

<P>[rm=300,2,0]http://i6.sina.com.cn/edu/cri/tc041220002.wma[/rm]</P>
<P>Upon hearing her evaluation I became furious for I thought, "Who is she to tell me what I can or cannot do. She does not even know me. I am a very determined and stubborn person!" I believe it was at that very moment that I decided I would somehow, someday return to college. </P>
<P>　　It took me a long time and a lot of hard work but I finally returned to the University of Texas in the fall of 1983 - a year and a half after almost dying. The next few years in Austin were very difficult for me, but I truly believe that in order to see beauty in life you have to experience some unpleasantness. Maybe I have experienced too much unpleasantness, but I believe in living each day to the fullest, and doing the very best I can. </P>
<P>　　And each new day was very busy and very full, for besides attending classes at the University I underwent therapy three to five days each week at Brackenridge Hospital. If this were not enough I flew to Houston every other weekend to work with Tom Williams, a trainer and executive who had worked for many colleges and professional teams and also had helped many injured athletes, such as Earl Campbell and Eric Dickerson. Through Tom I learned: "Nothing is impossible and never, never give up or quit." </P>
<P>　　Early, during my therapy, my father kept repeating to me one of his favorite sayings. I have repeated it almost every day since being hurt: "Mile by mile it's a trial; yard by yard it's hard; but inch by inch it's a cinch." </P>
<P>　　I thought of those words, and I thought of Tom, my family and Sharon who believed so strongly in me as I climbed the steps to receive my diploma from the Dean of Liberal Arts at the University of Texas on that bright sunny afternoon in June of 1986. Excitement and pride filled my heart as I heard the dean announce that I had graduated with "highest honors", been elected to Phi Beta Kappa, and been chosen as one of 12 Dean's Distinguished Graduates out of 1600 in the College of Liberal Arts. </P>
<P>　　The overwhelming emotions and feelings that I experienced at that very moment, when most of the audience gave me a standing 17)ovation, I felt would never again be matched in my life-not even when I graduated with a masters degree in social work and not even when I became employed full time at the Texas Pain and Stress Center. But I was wrong! </P>

<P>how wonderful if it can be downloaded!</P>

so long