It is quite reasonable to blame traffic jams, the cost of gas and the great speed of modern life, but manners on the road are becoming horrible. Everybody knows that the nicest man would become fierce tigers behind the wheel. It is all right to have a tiger in a cage, but to have one in the driver's seat is another matter.

    Road politeness is not only good manners, but good sense. It takes the most cool-hearted drivers great patience to give up the desire to beat back when forced to face rude driving. On the other hand, a little politeness goes a long way towards reducing the possibility of quarrelling and fighting. A friendly nod or a wave, or thanks in answer to an act of politeness helps to create an atmosphere of good will and becomes so necessary in modern traffic conditions. But such behaviors of politeness are by no means enough. Many drivers nowadays don't even seem able to recognize politeness when they see it.

    However, misplaced politeness can also be dangerous. Typical example is the driver who waves to a child crossing the street at a wrong place into the path of oncoming cars that may not be able to stop in time. The same goes for encouraging old ladies to cross the road wherever and whenever they want to.

    An experienced driver, whose manners are faultless, told me it would help if drivers learnt to correctly join in traffic stream without causing total jams that give rise to unpleasant feelings. Unfortunately, modern drivers can't even learn to drive, let alone master the roadmanship(驾车技能). Years ago, experts warned us that the fast increase of the car ownership would demand more give-and-take from all road users. It is high time that all of us took this message to heart.

    Winters are long and unforgiving in North Dakota. The winter of 1996 was especially brutal. It was a hard time in my own life too, A neck injury had kept me flat in bed for nearly a year. “Just in time for Easter,” my husband, Dick, said. But how could I feel the joy when the snow was four feet deep and I had months of painful physical treatment ahead?

    I was doing the dishes one day, feeling hopeless when there was a tap against the glass. It was a branch of the troublesome cottonwood (棉白杨).Back in the fall of 1979, it was a new subdivision (分支) then, an eight-foot stick. The people who'd briefly occupied the house before us had placed the pipe from the pump next to it. The earth was so wet that the poor thing had fallen down, most of its bare root system pointing skyward, and blowing hopelessly back and forth in the cold wind. Dick decided to pull it out one day, but I disapproved of it.

    “Look at how hard it's trying!” I said, pointing to the way it strongly kept hold of the earth. “It deserves a chance.”

    Dick borrowed some tools. We packed dry soil around the tree and put up some stakes (桩) into the ground, making it stand upright. That winter was still terrible. Surprisingly, in the spring my “rescue stick” put forth a few leaves, then with lots of branches. The year after that, we were able to remove the stakes. By the 1990s that little stick was a giant, towering over the house.

    Now the tapping at the window continued, louder as the wind picked up, almost as though to tell me to look up. At last, I did. I caught ray breath. In the window against the icy blue sky, thousands and thousands of fresh red buds were waving in the wind.

    The tree was bursting with life and I had a wonderful Easter.