听说第三册radio_program文稿

1 Unit 1

Our “This I Believe” essay today comes from Corinne Colbert, a listener in

Athens, Ohio. Colbert is a mother of two. She writes the newsletter for a business

organization, and she is president of a parent-teacher’s organization. Here’ Corinne

Colbert with her essay for “This I believe”.

My husband is not my best friend. He doesn’t complete me. In fact, he can be a

self-absorbed jerk. We’re nearly polar opposites: He’s a lifetime member of the NRA

who doesn’t care for journalists, and I’m a lifelong liberal with a journalism degree.

On the other hand, he doesn’t beat or emotionally abuse me. He doesn’t drink or chase

other woman. He’s a good provider. So I’m sticking with him. Some people would

call that “settling”, like it’s a bad thing. But I believe in settling.

Alas, to many of us, the grass is greener on the other side of the fence. From

movies to magazines to commercials, we’re told that we should demand more from

lives that are, for many of us, pretty good. We suppose to look better, eat better, find

better jobs, be better lovers and parents and workers. A stable marriage isn’t enough.

It’s supposed to be a fairy tale. Perfection is the goal.

Settling in my sense, is about acceptance. I’m a pretty happy person, in large part

because I’m honest with myself about what I have.

Of course, some situations are worth improving. If your weight jeopardizes your

health, exercise and change your eating habits; if your job makes you truly miserable,

find a new one. If your marriage is toxic, end it. Chances are, though, you probably

have what you need. If you’re unhappy, ask yourself: am I unhappy because I really

don’t have what I need, or because I just want more?

So, yes, I’m settling. I’m happy with my husband who, despite his flaws, is a

caring father, capable of acts if stunning generosity and fiercely protective of his

family. Thinking about him may not set me on fire as it used to, but after 17 years and

two kids, our love is still warm. And I believe that’s good enough.

Unit 2

Here at this Chicago High School and others, there has been so much emphasis

on the quality of school menus, but this new study says that none of that really matters

when fast food is just a short walk way.

How can a cafeteria ever hope to compete with this? A new Harvard study says

more and more schools now have to. Eighty percent of schools in Chicago with a fast

food restaurant less than half a mile away, raising concerns about how easy it is for

kids to eat poorly, and whether fast food companies are moving into the neighborhood

on purpose.

“They take into account the demographics of neighborhoods, the roadways in

neighborhoods, and where the access is to the consumer base.”

Doctor Bryn Austin is the study’s lead author and says on a typical day, nearly a

third of American kids eat fast food. When they do, they consume more fat and

calories, fewer vegetables and fruits than on days when don’t.

Overall, nearly nine million children in the US are overweight or obese, more 2 than one in every seven kids, a number that has tripled since 1980. McDonald’s

criticized the Chicago study, saying most restaurants are in heavily trafficked areas.

Schools said their spokesmen have nothing to do with it. But child health advocates

like Doctor Matte Longjohn say the study shows how recent attempts to improve

school menus, even remove soda vending machines, may not be enough to improve

children’s eating habit.

Unit 3

I believe in mystery.

I believe in family.

I believe in being who I am.

I believe in the power of failure.

And I believe normal life is extraordinary.

This I believe.

Now an essay from our series “This I believe”. Maria Mayo Rpbbins is getting a

doctorate in religion at Vanderbilt University in Nashville, Tennessee. Her life is

taking unexpected turns, good and bad, that helped her find meaning, and go forward.

I believe in chance. Strings of unexpected encounters mark my life. I believe that

chance has guided me, jolted me sometimes, onto paths I wouldn’t have chosen but

needed to follow, whether I knew it or not. Chance encounters have led me across

continents and into unanticipated worlds.

At 21, I first visited Italy. As I struggled with a mouthful of college Italian to find

the word for “towel” in a hostel one morning, an older woman laughed, straightened

out my garbled attempts and invited me to her home. Chance gently pushed me and

led me to a lifelong connection to her family, their small town of Castelfranco Veneto

and, several years later, the opportunity to live there.

But chance is not always kind. When I was 25 years old, chance led an intruder