It was a sunny winter day. I had gone up and down the tower when, outside the little door at the foot, a blind man came toward me. He was a pale, thin man with dark glasses. He kept close to the inner wall of the courtyard. On reaching the door, he touched it and sharply turned inside. In a moment, he disappeared up the staircase. I stood still, looking at the little sign that said “To the Tower… ” I felt obliged to follow.

I didn’t follow closely. I caught up with him in the ticket office. There I was surprised to see the attendant selling him a ticket as though he were any other visitor. With the ticket in one hand and touching the wall with the other, he reached the staircase leading to the hallway.

“That man is blind,” I said to the attendant, but he showed no concern. “He’s blind,” I repeated. He didn’t answer, looking at me vacantly.

“Perhans he wants to jump,” I said. But his chair was too comfortable. He didn’t stir. He still looked down at a crossword puzzle he had begun. I turned toward the staircase.

“The ticket,” the attendant said, rising from his chair. It seemed the only thing that could move him. After purchasing my ticket, I hurried up the staircase.

The man hadn’t gone as far as I imagined. After ten minutes, I approached him. “Excuse me,” I said as politely as I could, “but I am very curious to know why you came up.”

“You’d never guess,” he said.

“Not the view, I take it, or the fresh air on this winter day,” I said.

He smiled. “Coming up the stairs, one can feel the change-the coo staircase suddenly becomes quite warm, —and how up here behind the wall there is shade, but as soon as one goes opposite a narrow window one finds the sun. In all of Siena there is no place so good as here.”

He moved into the sunlight. Then he stepped into the shade. “Light, shade, light, shade,” he said, and seemed as pleased as a child who, in a game of hopscotch, jumps from square to square.

We went down the tower together. I left him, gladdened as one can only be by the sunlight.

Chen Xingrong, 16, was diagnosed with autism (自闭症) when he was a baby. After being diagnosed with autism, his father, Chen Xunhu, quit his job and devoted his full attention to the topic of autism. In 2012, Chen Xunhu learned that swimming could help autistic people improve their important ability and articulation (发音), so he spent months learning how to swim by watching videos and reading books. He spent several months teaching his son and discovered that his son had gradually developed the ability to control his breath under water, which significantly increased his confidence.

The father laid the groundwork for his son’s swimming lessons. Two hand rings and a swing are installed (安装) from the ceiling by the father to help Chen Xingrong strengthen his muscles and learn swimming movements more precisely. On one wall of their home hangs a table for Chen Xingrong’s routine exercises. “I used to plan all his exercises for him, but now it is all up to him. He decides how many exercises he wants to do, and it’s a process of self-management,” said Chen Xunhu.

In spite of all the hardships in life, Chen Xingrong managed to become an outstanding swimmer. In 2021, he won five medals, including a gold, at the 11th National Games for Persons with Disabilities and the eighth National Special Olympic Games.

As well as swimming, learning basic life skills is also an important part of life for a teenager with autism. Thanks to his father’s perseverance (毅力), Chen Xingrong has learned to buy food and has held voluntary jobs at supermarkets and fast-food restaurants. Meanwhile, Chen Xunhu wants the public to know more about autistic people so as to reduce misunderstanding. He organized about 500 people to watch the autism-themed film, titled Ocean Heaven, which describes how a terminally (末期的) ill father attempts to teach his son the necessary life skills to live without him.

Chen Xunhu has made great efforts to make the public understand autism better and hopes all autistic people will live a wonderful life in the future.

Kyle Semrau came home on the morning of April 12 after an overnight shift feeling light-headed. He told his wife he would be laying low for the day, joined by his 6-year-old daughter, Macie.

On a normal day, Macie would have been at school, but that particular morning she had refused to even get dressed for school, so she stayed home. It turns out that her unexplained want to stay home was for the best.

Later in the day. Semrau collapsed from a medical event that caused him to slip in and out of consciousness. Macie learned her dad was in trouble when she heard him yelling. In a moment while Semrau was conscious, Macie asked her dad for his phone passcode so she could unlock the device. She logged in, opened the browser, and phoned the local police department.

Macie relayed the relevant information, including their address, to Judy Smith, the Eliot Police Department’s administrative assistant who answered the phone.

“That’s really lucky,” Semrau told Boston 25 News. “I still have it saved. If you open up my browser, that’s the way it is spelled, ‘Elliot poliz’. She pushed the call button, which actually goes right to the dispatcher (调度员) here in town.”

The police arrived two minutes after Macie called.

Semrau’s medical emergency was due to issues with his sinuses (鼻窦炎), which led to difficulty breathing, according to Seacoast Online. He is now home and doing well.

“If I can say anything about this whole experience, it’s for everyone to teach kids about awareness. If I hadn’t taught my daughter certain things she wouldn’t learn in school, this outcome could have been completely different,” Semrau told Boston. com. “She is, and will always be my hero.”