As a child, there was nothing I liked better than Sunday afternoons at my grandfather’s farm in western Pennsylvania. Surrounded by miles of stone walls, the house and field provided endless hours of fun for a city kid like me.

Since my first visit to the farm, I had wanted more than anything to be allowed to climb the stone walls surrounding the houses. My parents would never agree because the walls were so old that some stones were loose and falling. However, my idea to climb across those walls grew so strong that finally I had all my courage to enter the living room, where the adults had gathered after Sunday dinner.

“I want to climb the stone walls.” I said. “Heavens, no! You’ll hurt yourself !” The response was just as I’d expected. But before I left the room, I was stopped by my grandfather’s loud voice. “Now hold on just a minute.” I heard him say. “Let the boy climb the stone walls. He has to learn to do things for himself.”

“Go,” he said to me, “and come and see me when you get back.” For the next two and a half hours I climbed those old walls — and had the time of my life. Later I met with my grandfather to tell him about my adventures. I’ll never forget what he said. “Fred,” he said, smiling, “you made this day a special day just by being yourself. Always remember, there’s only one person in this whole world like you, and I like you exactly as you are.”

Many years have passed since then, and today I host the television program Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood, seen by millions of children throughout America. There have been changes over the years, but one thing remains the same: my message to children at the end of almost every visit. “There’s only one person in this whole world like you,” the kids will hear me say, “ and people can like you exactly as you are.”

We have to make certain our limited money is well spent. But what should we spend our money on? A 20-year study conducted by Dr. Gilovich, a professor at Cormell University, reached a powerful and straightforward conclusion: don’t spend your money on things.

The trouble with things is that the happiness they provide peters out. We get used to new possessions, and what once seemed exciting quickly becomes the norm. We keep raising the bar and always look for an even better one. Possessions, by their nature, cause comparisons. We buy a new car and are thrilled with it until a friend buys a better one—and there’s always someone with a better one. Most of us usually assume that the happiness we get from buying something will last as long as the thing itself. It seems intuitive (直觉的) that investing in something we can see, hear, and touch on a permanent basis delivers the best value. But it’s not the case at all.

Gilovich has found that experiences deliver more- lasting happiness than things. Experiences become a part of our identity. Everyone’s experience is unique. We are not our possessions, but we are the accumulation of everything we’ve seen, the things we’ve done, and the places we’ve been to. “Our experiences are a bigger part of ourselves than our material goods said Gilovich, “You can really like your material stuff. You Can even think that part of your identity is connected to those things, but they remain separate from you. In contrast, your experiences really are part of you.”

Besides, we don’t compare experiences in the same way that we compare things. It’s hard to quantify the relative value of any two experiences, which makes them that much more enjoyable. And expectation of an experience causes excitement and enjoyment, while expectation of obtaining a possession causes impatience. Experiences are enjoyable from the very first moments of planning, all the way through to the memories you keep forever The temporary happiness achieved by buying things can be regarded as “puddles(小水洼) of pleasure”. In other words, that kind of happiness evaporates quickly and leaves us wanting more. Things may last longer than experiences, but the memories that remain are what matter most.

“You'll be blind by the time you're twenty-five,” a doctor at Children's Hospital predicted. “Your blood sugars are much too high.” It consumed me. No mater where I was or what I was doing, it was overhead like a dark cloud, waiting for just the right opportunity to break open and destroy my world.

I liked painting. Losing myself in painting filled me with peace. Painting provided me with the only place where I could escape from those threatening words.

When I was 2l years old, my right eye went blind. Precisely three months after I was 25, I had a massive hemorrhage (大出血) in my left eye because of an accident. For the next twenty years, vision came and went. I went through many eye operations in an attempt to keep my vision. But after one final operation, I lost the battle and all remaining vision.   And I buried all dreams of painting.

Desperate, I enrolled in (注册) a sixteen-week program for the blind and visually impaired (视力受损). I learned personal adjustment and the use of a computer with adaptive software. A whole new world opened up to me through this program as a turning point.

“Jaws and Window-Eyes are leading software for the blind.” my instructor told me. “You can use the Internet, e-mail and Microsoft with all its tools and features.”   It's amazing! Hope went up for the first time in years. “By learning how to use hot keys to control the mouse, you can use Microsoft Access, Excel and PowerPoint,” my instructor added.

For the next several years, I learned that when one door closes, another door opens. There are plenty of choices available for the blind and visually impaired through the gift of technology. Not only do I have a speaking computer, but I have a speaking watch, alarm clock and calculator.