Gunshots rang out once again on a campus in the United States on Wednesday. Students and faculty raced out of harm's way, ducked under furniture, barricaded doors and hid in interior rooms, bathrooms and labs. The short-lived nightmare on the campus of the University of California, Los Angeles came one day before Wear Orange: National Gun Violence Awareness Day. Wear Orange was inspired by friends of Hadiya Pendleton, a 15-year-old Chicago high school student killed by gunfire in 2013. The group decided to honor her life by wearing orange the color worn by hunters in the woods to protect themselves and others. While the idea has been embraced by civic organizations, politicians and celebrities, it has been rejected by gun rights advocates. The National Rifle Association has attacked the campaign as "pointless," and said "participating is an easy way of scoring points for being 'socially conscious.'" Here is a look at the unique relationship between Americans and their guns. Any law-abiding citizen in the United States is allowed to own or carry a gun. That right comes from the U.S. Bill of Rights and the Second Amendment to the U.S. Constitution. It says: "A well-regulated militia, being necessary to the security of a free state, the right of the people to keep and bear arms, shall not be infringed." The Second Amendment was based partially on English common law, which describes an auxiliary right, supporting the natural rights of self-defense, resistance to oppression, and the civic duty to act in concert in defense of the state. To purchase a gun in the majority of states, a person needs to be of age, pass the FBI's National Instant Criminal Background Check and fill out a firearms transaction record. However, background checks are not currently required for private sales, including those conducted at gun shows. Certain people are banned from owning weapons, including convicted criminals, people with mental health illnesses or non-U.S. citizens. But the system has major holes in it. The Wear Orange movement likely lasts: - At least one day. - not enough information - Only for 1 hour. - Only for 3 hours.
At least one day.

I have never been a stop-and-smell-the-roses type of person. For me, there's always something that has to be done. In fact, the biggest complaint that my husband and two children have about me is that I'm "always busy." Seventeen years ago, when my oldest son was about a year old, he woke up in a very fussy mood. Instead of being his usual cheerful and compliant self, he just wanted to be cuddled. A mother's dream, right? Well, not for me. There was too much to be done; I didn't have time to hold him. I was well aware that in addition to some projects I was working on, there was laundry to be washed and ironed, breakfast dishes to do, a house that needed cleaning. My usual response would have been to try to coax my son into cheerfulness, or to put him back to bed to sleep it off. But it was clear that he was unwell, so against my usual inclination, I decided that I would just hold him. The chores could wait another day. So I settled into the recliner chair in the lounge room and held my son while he slept. I dozed occasionally too, waking up now and then to enjoy the feeling of snuggling my baby and looking at the world beyond the window. It was a cold day, but clear and sunny. The trees rustled in the gentle breeze, and birds and butterflies flitted about the garden. Inside, my son and I stayed snuggled together under a blanket for most of the day. He slept while I, for one of the few times in my life, just drank in the beauty of the world and the happiness of sharing this time with my son. Better mothers than I am must have done similar things many, many times with their children. But for me, this very small decision, this day of 'laziness', became a treasured memory. With whom did the author spend her day of laziness? - not enough information - her two children - Her husband - John
John

(Question)
I was 14 at the time. My family and I took a family vacation to Tybee Island, Georgia. It is a beautiful place that I would highly recommend. I told my family that I was going to go find a port-a-pot. So I head off by myself. I'm in the port-a-pot, i'm in there for roughly 10 minutes. (you can assume what I was doing) I wash my hands and get ready to leave the port-a-pot, and I tried to open the door and it was locked. I'm claustrophobic, so I start to FREAK OUT. I started banging on the door, running into the door with all of my weight. Nothing was helping. I then start crying, I thought for sure that I was going to die. I knew it was the end, at the age of 14, locked in a port-a-pot, in 95 degree weather in the middle of a beach in Georgia. Looking back, i'm curious as to why my family never came to look for me, I was gone for like 30 minutes. So I'm banging on the door continuously, bawling my eyes out. Then a man opened the door for me, from the outside. He was about 6'3 with dreads about 12 inches long and weighed about 280 pounds. I ran out of the port-a-pot and jumped on the guy and gave him a hug and told him that I loved him and that he saved my life. I don't know how he managed to open the door for me, but I definitely know that my 14 year old self owes that man my life. I'm not sure where he is in life, or what he's doing, but I hope God is blessing him abundantly. It is definitely a funny story to tell my friends. Who were those on vacation with the 14-year-old boy? - Some other people in Georgia - His parents and siblings - not enough information - The stranger
(Answer)
His parents and siblings