A girl pulled back on the rope, making the homemade swing(秋千) fly higher． Her red sweater flashed brightly in the morning sunlight． She was mad at her brother, David． "How could he have been so mean?" she asked herself, remembering how he had made a face and called her a “big baby”． “He hates me,” she thought, “Just because I took the last biscuit from under his nose．”

On a distant hill behind the swing, a huge bull (公牛) with long, sharp horns was watching her． It was ready to attack anything that moved． Then it lowered its head and bean charging (猛冲) across the field toward the red sweater．

Meanwhile, David was in the farmyard, feeding the chicken． He saw his little sister on the swing and the bull heading straight for his sister． Without a second thought, David screamed as loudly as he could, “Look out behind you! Get out of there!”

His sister didn't hear him． The bull was halfway across the field and closing in fast． David's heart pounded． It was now or never． He ran across the chicken yard, jumped the fence and dashed toward his sister． He ran faster than he had ever run before．

David gabbed the swing to stop and pulled his sister sideways to the ground only a second before the bull charged at the place she had been． She let out a terrified cry． The bull turned around and charged again． David quickly pulled of the sealer of his sister and threw it far away as he could． The bull followed it． As the bull was tearing the sweater into pieces, David half-dragged, half-carried his sister to safety． A weak smile crossed the little girl’s face as she had realized something important that day．

Folk-rocker Richie Havens, who died on April 22 at the age of 72, will be remembered for many things, among which his performance at Woodstock in 1969 made him into music history.

He wasn’t supposed to open the festival—he was scheduled to play fifth that day. Plans changed when the opening band, Sweetwater, got caught in traffic, Michael Lang, producer of the festival, said he chose Havens “because of his calm but powerful manner”. His performance went overtime because the next act was stuck in traffic, too. This led Richie Havens to create on the spot what became one of the most significant moments of the Woodstock Festival: his performance of “Freedom”.

The oldest of nine children, Havens was raised in the poor Bedford-Stuyvesant section of Brooklyn, New York. As a child, he dreamed of growing up to be a surgeon, but set off on a musical path as a teenager. Forming a music group in high school, he then landed in New York’s Greenwich Village folk clubs at 17. He soon stood out from the other young singers.

He recorded two albums on small labels (公司) before signing with Bob Dylan’s manager, Albert Grossman. He then joined a larger label and went on to tour for more than 40 years, making close to 30 albums.

Besides a good songwriter, Richie Havens was also an outstanding song interpreter. In many occasions he’d tell of spending three days learning Bob Dylan’s “A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall”: “I wasn’t born to sing so I practiced the song over and over again in a stairwell.” One night, a man stopped him and said it was the best version he’d ever heard. Havens always ended the story by saying: “that’s how I first met Bob Dylan.”

I know what courage looks like. I saw it on a flight I took six years ago, and only now can I speak of it without tears filling my eyes at the memory.

Our flight left the Orlando Airport one Friday morning. But immediately upon the take-off, it was clear that something was wrong. The aircraft was bumping (颠簸) up and down. All the experienced travellers, including me, looked around with knowing (会意的) smiles. If you fly much, you see these things and learn to act calmly about them. However, we did not remain calm for long.

Minutes after we were in the air, our plane began falling quickly. The pilot soon made a serious announcement. “We are having some difficulties,” he said. “Our indicators show that the control system has failed. We will be returning to the Orlando Airport. The flight attendants will prepare you for a bumpy landing. Also, if you look out of the windows, you will see that we are dumping (倾倒) fuel from the airplane. We want to have as little on board as possible in the event of a rough touchdown.” In other words, we were about to crash. Many travellers looked visibly frightened now. No one faces death without fear, I thought.

Then a couple of rows to my left, I heard a still calm voice, a woman’s voice, speaking in an absolutely normal conversational tone. I had to find the source of this voice. All around, people cried. Many screamed. Finally, I saw her. In this state of complete confusion and lack of order, a mother was talking to her child. The woman, in her mid-30s, was staring full into the face of her daughter, who looked to be four years old. The child listened closely, sensing the importance of her mother’s words. The mother’s eye held the child so fixed that she seemed untouched by the sounds of grief and fear around her.

Finally, I leaned over and could hear this soft sure voice with the tone of comfort. Over and over again, the mother said, “I love you so much. Remember, no matter what happens, I love you always.” Fortunately, our landing gear (起落架) held at last and our touchdown was not a tragedy.

However, the voice I heard that day never faded. That mom showed me what a real hero looks like.