Our bachelor uncle lived with us, who loved hunting and fishing; and it was one of the pleasures of our young life to go fishing with him.

I remember my first fishing experience as if it happened yesterday. I was very excited when I received that first fishing pole from my uncle's hand, and went fishing with him. It was a still, sweet day of early summer; the leaves seemed greener, the flowers brighter, the birds merrier, than ever before.

My uncle considerately placed me at the most favorable point. I threw out my line as I had so often seen others, and waited anxiously for a bite, moving the bait (鱼饵) in rapid movement on the surface of the water just like the jumps of a frog. Nothing came of it. "Try again," said my uncle. Suddenly the bait sank out of sight. "Now for it," thought I, "here is a fish at last."

I made a strong pull, and brought up a tangle of weeds. Again and again I cast out my line with aching arms, and drew it back empty. "Try once more," he said, "we fishermen must have patience to catch a fish." "But remember, boy," he said, with his big smile, "never say you've caught a fish until it is on dry ground. It's no use showing off anything until it's done."

How often since I have been reminded of the fish that I did not catch! When I hear people boasting of a work as yet undone, I will remember the wise caution of my uncle in that particular instance takes the form of a proverb of universal application: "NEVER BOAST (吹嘘) OF YOUR FISH BEFORE YOU CATCH HIM."

Compassion is a desire within us to help others. With effort, we can translate compassion into actions. An experience last weekend showed me this is true. I work part-time in a supermarket across from a building for the elderly. These old people are our main customers, and it’s easy to lose patience over their slowness. But last Sunday, one aged gentleman appeared to teach me a valuable lesson. This untidy man walked up to my register with a box of biscuits. He said he was out of cash, had just moved into his room, and had nothing in his cupboards. He asked if we could let him have the food on trust. He promised to repay me the next day.

I couldn’t help staring at him. I wondered what kind of person he had been ten or twenty years before, and what he would be like if luck had gone his way. I had a hurt in my heart for this kind of human soul, all alone in the world. I told him that I was sorry, and the store rules didn’t allow me to do so. I felt stupid and unkind saying this, but I valued my job.

Just then, another man, standing behind the first, spoke up. “If anything,” he looked more pitiable, “Charge it to me,” was all he said.

What I had been feeling was pity. Pity is soft, safe and easy. Compassion, on the other hand, is caring in action. I thanked the second man but told him that was not allowed, either. Then I reached into my pocket and paid for the biscuits myself. I reached into my pocket because these two men had reached into my heart and taught me compassion.

Born in 1949, Diana Nyad took an early interest in swimming as a sport and was a Florida State High School swimming champion. Like many young athletes, she had Olympic dreams, but a serious illness kept her from competing in the Games. The disappointment didn’t stop her from going forward. Instead, she became interested in marathon swimming. A brilliant athlete, she was well-conditioned for spending long periods of time in the water. As a long-distance swimmer, she would compete against herself and the obstacles presented by distance, danger, cold, and exhaustion.

For ten years Nyad devoted herself to becoming one of the world’s best long-distance swimmers. In 1970, she swam a ten-mile marathon in Lake Ontario, setting the women’s record for the course. In 1972 she set another record by swimming 102.5 miles from an island in the Bahamas to the coast of Florida. Then she broke a third record when swimming around Manhattan Island in 1975.

Nyad attempted to swim the distance between Florida and Cuba in 1978. Though the span of water is less than 100 miles wide, it is rough and dangerous. After battling the water for two days, she had to give up for the sake of her own health and safety. Even so, she impressed the world with her courage and strong desire to succeed. For Nyad her strength of purpose was just as important as reaching Cuba. She believed she had touched the other shore.

When Nyad ended her career as a swimmer, she continued to try new things--travelling the world as a reporter, writing books and giving public speeches about her life. Diana Nyad works to inspire others, just as she did when she swam the waters of the world.