A couple of months before I started high school, my parents gave me the greatest gift any teenage boy could ask for: a cellphone. I lived on that phone all summer with my face buried in its screen. I ignored my family and my surroundings. Being connected was more important than being present.

So, you can imagine my displeasure when I learned what my dad had planned for our family vacation that year. “This year,” my dad said, “we’ll be doing something special. We’re going camping!” His excitement was met with a disappointed sigh. It wasn’t my dream vacation because mind was on my phone. I was so buried in the screen, in fact, that the first time I can remember truly looking up was when we drove across a bridge on the way to our campsite.

I stared out the window and saw redwoods towering above us, their branches threatening to pierce (刺破) the blue sky. I saw a roaring river, with slivers of silky black water appearing between crashing white rapids. The air blowing into the car from the open windows was hot. But none of that mattered to me. The reason I had looked up was for something far more serious: my phone no longer had service.

The last hour of the drive was increasingly tense. My dad announced that he had chosen a campsite that had no cell service, and that my phone would be useless until we returned home. I would be trapped in the forest for four days with no way to contact the outside world! I went through the full cycle of teenage emotions during the first day of the trip. I raged. I bargained. I begged. I flip-flopped (转变) from a depressive state to anger and back.

I went to bed angrily that night. But when I awoke in the morning, something had changed.

Instead of burying myself in my phone, I focused on something else: my surroundings.

The next four days passed in a flash with many fun activities.

In 2018, 17-year-old Hemesh spent a life-changing summer with his grandmother Anne, who had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease. Witnessing the impact of the disease firsthand, Hemesh was awakened to the seriousness of the situation.

One night, Hemesh walked into the kitchen only to discover that his grandmother had left the gas stove (炉) on after making tea. Shocked by the dangerous consequences Alzheimer’s disease could bring about, he couldn’t help but wonder what might have happened if he hadn’t been there.

Hemesh’s worries increased as he observed his grandmother’s behavior. She would wake up in the early hours of the morning, believing she was on a train, and wander outside aimlessly. This wandering tendency could potentially lead her to get lost or put herself in risky situations.

Determined to make a difference, Hemesh engaged himself in extensive research about Alzheimer’s disease and its symptomatic (症状的) progression. Through his studies, he discovered that wandering was a common problem among dementia patients, especially those with Alzheimer’s disease.

Inspired by his newfound knowledge and fueled by his desire to help, Hemesh told his family, “I can’t just stand by and watch this happen. I need to do something to keep Grandma safe. I think I have an idea that might help not just her, but others in similar situations.”

With firm determination, he developed an inventive answer to the wandering dilemma, a device he called the Guardian Companion. It was a wearable device, similar to a smartwatch, specifically designed for Alzheimer’s patients. It integrated advanced GPS technology and a panic button to assist those who tended to wander, ensuring their safety and well-being. After the device got its official approval, Hemesh happily went to try it on for his grandmother.

As Anne put on the Guardian Companion, Hemesh explained how it worked.

In the next few weeks, the device made a difference to Anne and her family.