Goodable

The world is all abuzz about Taylor Swift's latest hit album this week. While her 11th studio masterpiece, “The Tortured Poets Department,” is shattering streaming records, it's Taylor's heart of gold that truly sets her apart.

In her hometown of Reading, Pennsylvania, Swift generously donated 6,000 books to the local library, fostering a love for reading among young enthusiasts. Her humanitarian reach extended to Tampa, where she provided meals for 125,000 people, and to California, supporting food security by donating enough to feed 50,000 people monthly.

Taylor’s creative genius helped pen a heartfelt song about a brave boy battling cancer, and she collected all the proceeds into cancer charities. It’s her special way of blending art with heart.

She’s donated a whopping $50,000 to enrich education and a million dollars to aid flood-stricken communities in Louisiana. And let's not forget about the $10,000 miracle she made happen for a boy with autism to get a life-changing service dog.

During the pandemic’s gloomy days, Taylor sent out personal stimulus checks to her fans. And as a cherry on top, she celebrated the unsung heroes driving her tour trucks by handing out $100,000 in bonuses, plus another million for tornado relief in Tennessee.

A glimpse into Taylor Swift's extensive charitable work shows a legacy of more than just her musical achievements. Her enduring generosity and support for those in need is 
a testament to her deep commitment to making a difference wherever she can.

Why Taylor Swift’s Kindness is Making a Splash as Big as Her Latest Album

The Cool Down

A growing number of Midwest farmers are planting their crops beneath solar panels, as part of a rising trend called agrivoltaics—a farming model that combines agriculture with solar energy to conserve resources, reduce costs, and boost resilience in a changing climate.

In Kearney, Missouri, longtime farmer Linda Hezel has turned to solar to protect her crops from scorching heat. She grows herbs, vegetables, and produce under an array of 18 solar panels raised eight feet off the ground. The shade helps shield the plants from increasingly intense summer temperatures, allowing her to continue supplying fresh ingredients to restaurants in Kansas City.

“I have observed over the 30 years here, the heating of this landscape is making it more difficult for some plants to thrive and even survive,” Hezel told KBIA radio.

She learned the hard way during the 2012 drought, when a failed harvest forced her to grow crops beneath a pine tree just to keep them alive. Now, with her solar array in place, she’s seeing better results—and fewer crop losses.

Hezel’s experience is part of a larger shift. Across the Midwest, farmers and solar companies are teaming up to find creative ways to share land. In many cases, farmers grow food between solar panel rows in exchange for managing the vegetation—saving solar operators from having to pay for mowing and maintenance.

For new and small-scale farmers, especially those from underrepresented communities, the model is opening doors.

KaZoua Berry, a first-generation farmer in Minnesota, grew up planting food with her family in a rented community garden. Today, she’s the farm director at The Food Group, a nonprofit that supports beginner farmers. One of the biggest hurdles for her trainees: access to land.

Partnering with local solar provider US Solar, Berry now oversees a pilot program that allows five farmers to cultivate crops at one of the company’s community solar sites—completely free. They grow between the panels, monitor the land, and check for equipment issues.

“That was a really cool moment of like, OK, we're going somewhere with this,” Berry told KBIA, describing how well the crops thrived under the panels.

US Solar’s director of project management, Peter Schmitt, believes the model could help shift rural perceptions about solar development. Many towns worry about losing fertile farmland to panels—but agrivoltaics can offer both.

The company is also planting native wildflowers and grasses beneath some panels to attract pollinators and boost biodiversity. In other areas, sheep are allowed to graze—eliminating the need for machines while keeping the land productive.

Stacie Peterson, executive director of the American Solar Grazing Association, said this kind of dual use—sometimes called “solar grazing”—is gaining popularity as a practical way for farmers to earn income without buying or leasing more land.

For Berry, the promise of agrivoltaics goes beyond crops or kilowatts. “It should be a human right to be able to grow food,” she said. “They just need the resources.”

With extreme weather on the rise and land access out of reach for many, partnerships like these could become a model for the future of both farming and clean energy—feeding communities while helping protect the planet.

Farmers are Uncovering a Surprising Advantage Of Solar Panels On Croplands

Science Daily

A group of scientists at the University of Houston says it’s time to rewrite the textbooks on heat transfer.

Researchers at the Texas Center for Superconductivity have found that a little-known material, boron arsenide, can conduct heat even better than diamond — long considered the gold standard for thermal conductivity in isotropic materials. Their findings, published in Materials Today, mark what could be a turning point in thermal physics and semiconductor design.

The team measured boron arsenide's thermal conductivity at more than 2,100 watts per meter per Kelvin (W/mK) — at room temperature. That’s higher than diamond’s long-accepted value of around 2,000 W/mK, and far above what earlier studies thought was possible for boron arsenide (BAs).

“We trust our measurement; our data is correct and that means the theory needs correction,” said Zhifeng Ren, the study’s corresponding author and a physics professor at UH. “I’m not saying the theory is wrong, but an adjustment needs to be made to be consistent with the experimental data.”

The breakthrough came from years of cross-institutional work involving UH, the University of California Santa Barbara, and Boston College. And it didn’t come easy. For more than a decade, boron arsenide had remained a promising material on paper, but real-world performance never matched up.

The original hype started in 2013 when Boston College physicist David Broido and his colleagues predicted BAs might rival or even surpass diamond in thermal conductivity. But those hopes dimmed in 2017, when researchers updated their models to include a phenomenon known as four-phonon scattering, which reduced BAs’s theoretical conductivity down to roughly 1,360 W/mK. For a while, most researchers moved on.

Ren’s team didn’t. They suspected the problem wasn’t the theory — or at least not only the theory — but the material itself. Most BAs crystals used in experiments had imperfections, which are known to block or scatter heat flow. Those defects capped performance around 1,300 W/mK, far below what theory had once promised.

So the team went back to basics, developing a cleaner synthesis process using refined arsenic and better growth techniques. The result was a much purer crystal — and record-breaking numbers. Their best samples clocked in at over 2,100 W/mK, beating even the most optimistic projections.

"This new material, it's so wonderful," said Ren. “It has the best properties of a good semiconductor, and a good thermal conductor — all sorts of good properties in one material. That has never happened in other semiconducting materials.”

Boron arsenide’s value doesn’t stop at heat conduction. It also ticks several key boxes for next-generation electronics: it’s easier and cheaper to manufacture than diamond, works as a wide-bandgap semiconductor, and has a high carrier mobility — all of which are desirable traits for transistors, chips, and power electronics. Its thermal expansion rate also matches well with existing materials, reducing the risk of cracking or warping in composite devices.

This makes it a promising candidate for applications that demand serious heat control, like smartphones, high-power electronics, and data centers.

The work is part of a larger $2.8 million National Science Foundation project, led by Bolin Liao at UC Santa Barbara, with support from the University of Notre Dame, UC Irvine, and industrial partner Qorvo. Ren’s group at UH plans to keep pushing, refining the synthesis process even further to explore how much more performance can be squeezed out of BAs.

More broadly, Ren hopes this discovery encourages scientists to challenge established models, especially when experimental results don't line up neatly with theory.

“You shouldn’t let a theory prevent you from discovering something even bigger,” he said. “And this exactly happened in this work.”

If the findings hold up under broader testing, boron arsenide could end up changing how devices are designed — and how physicists think about the limits of thermal performance.

Scientists Discover New Material That Surpasses Diamond's Strength

An American woman hiking nearly 6,000 kilometres from Mexico to northern British Columbia got an unexpected assist near the end of her five-month trek—from a group of longtime snowmobilers hanging out in a remote cabin.

Jessica Guo had already walked for more than 150 days through some of North America’s toughest terrain when she arrived at Kakwa Provincial Park, the northern end of her journey. Her route included the entire Continental Divide Trail in the U.S. and the Great Divide Trail through the Canadian Rockies—a feat that only four people are known to have completed in one continuous trip. Guo is the first woman to do it.

On Day 152 of her trip, Guo was hoping to meet her parents in Prince George, B.C. She planned to hike toward the city after reaching the northern terminus, but with rough, muddy roads and night approaching, she found herself in a tough spot.

That’s when she came across a cabin in the woods. Inside were Greg Redmond and his friends Gary, Bob and Lee, members of the Kakwa Park Snowmobile Club. The group had been exploring the area since the 1980s, and they weren’t planning on leaving that night.

“They said we don't really feel comfortable with you going out there in the dark like that. It's not a very good road, it's really rough. It's very muddy,” Guo told CBC's Radio West. “It's a lot of, like, steep banks and you're going to be sliding around in the dark — and then there's grizzly bears.”

Instead of sending her off, the men offered Guo dinner and a place to sleep.

The group didn’t initially realize how far she had come. Guo, who had started documenting her trip on social media and in a newsletter partway through the hike, showed Redmond some of her videos.

“I showed [Greg] a couple of my videos and he said, 'Wow, you know, if I had seen those videos, I would have thought you were crazy. But now I know you, and I know you are definitely crazy,’” she laughed.

Over the evening, they traded stories about the mountains, adventures in glaciers and ice caves, and their shared love of the outdoors—despite approaching it in very different ways.

“When you are on trail, you realize that all the other people who are out there are out there for the same reasons that you are,” Guo said. “And maybe they might use the trail differently. So, for example, Greg is primarily a snowmobiler, but I'm mostly walking and hiking. But we both love the outdoors in the same way.”

Redmond said the cabin had seen plenty of wild moments since he and his friends built it in the early 2000s, using supplies from nearby lumber mills. “It’s seen lots of animals. It’s seen grizzlies try to crawl up the wall of the cabin,” he said. “They come in, eat the gas cans in the spring.”

The next morning, two of the men drove Guo as far as they could down the rugged trail, dropping her off 14 kilometres from her final meeting point with her parents.

Her story has since inspired thousands. What began as a private challenge soon turned into something more public when Guo started posting updates. “I think it was also very gratifying to know that I had that kind of impact on other people's lives,” she said. “I've had so many people reach out to me saying that they have been inspired to go outside or go for a hike... I think that's been really special.”

American Hiker Completes Epic Journey with Unexpected Help from Canadian Snowmobilers

BBC News

What started as a late-night online shopping spree turned into a prehistoric surprise for one woman in the UK—after she accidentally bought an emu egg on eBay and successfully hatched it.

Rhi Evans from Gloucestershire says she has no memory of purchasing the £37 egg but woke up to an email confirmation. Unable to get a refund, and driven by a lifelong fascination with large birds, she decided to incubate it on her three-acre farm.

“It looked like a dragon egg,” Evans said, describing the moment it arrived. She turned it daily for weeks, gave up when the due date passed—only to hear chirping from inside just as she was about to throw it out.

Out hatched “Jonathan,” later revealed to be female. Now three years old and six feet tall, the emu lives on Evans’ land, cozying up under a heat lamp and roaming the fields.

But Evans and experts alike warn that emus aren’t casual pets. “They can live up to 40 years, need tons of space, and can run up to 30 mph,” said Helen Goldman of West Country Emu Services.

Evans has since banned herself from late-night shopping: “I dread to think what else I might buy. But I wouldn’t change a thing.”

Woman Accidentally Buys Emu Egg on eBay, Hatches Lifelong Dream

Wearing bright orange safety gear and gripping a chainsaw, Boston Mayor Michelle Wu helped cut down a 42-year-old white spruce in Lunenburg County, Nova Scotia — a tree that will soon stand at the heart of Boston’s holiday celebrations.

The tree, planted over four decades ago by Nova Scotians Ronald and Claire Feener, is the latest gift in a long-standing tradition that dates back more than a century. Every year, Nova Scotia sends a Christmas tree to Boston as thanks for the city’s rapid response to the 1917 Halifax Explosion — a devastating wartime blast that killed 2,000 people and injured thousands more.

Wu is the first Boston mayor to attend the ceremonial tree cutting in person. “I wanted to be here to personally give thanks to the people of Nova Scotia,” she told reporters. “To keep this friendship and keep our relationship going strong.”

Standing beside Cape Breton tree-felling instructor Waddie Long, Wu made the first cut into the 13.7-metre tree, which was then hoisted by crane onto a flatbed truck. The spruce will soon travel to Halifax for a parade before heading to Boston Common for a lighting ceremony on December 4.

A tradition tested by politics

The mood at the ceremony was warm and celebratory, but the backdrop wasn’t without tension.

Wu admitted she had feared the tradition might not continue, citing strained relations between Canada and the United States in recent years. During his time in office, President Donald Trump imposed harsh tariffs on Canadian steel, aluminum, and lumber, and repeatedly floated the idea of annexing Canada outright.

“There were multiple moments where… I wondered if Nova Scotia was still going to want to continue this tradition,” Wu said.

To clear the air, she called Nova Scotia Premier Tim Houston. “We had a lovely conversation and reaffirmed that this friendship dates back over a century and will continue on long after a particular presidential administration or regime.”

That sentiment was echoed by many who gathered to watch the ceremony.

“This is about the people of Boston who responded in mere hours and loaded a train for Halifax,” said Susan Corkum-Greek, MLA for Lunenburg. “There are always people beyond politics and ultimately the strength of people, I believe, prevails.”

A deeply personal connection

For Susan Calkins, a former Bostonian now living in Lunenburg, the tree’s journey has personal meaning. “For the past 20 years plus, I’ve been buying Christmas trees from Nova Scotia in the Boston area,” she said. “So now this is very special.”

Her partner, Phil Hopfe, also originally from Boston, joked about the political divide, offering an open invitation: “I’d like to extend an invitation for New England to separate and join us here in the Maritimes,” he said. “It’s a wonderful province to be in.”

As the tree was secured for transport, Waddie Long reminded everyone that the tradition is older and stronger than any current headlines. “We’ve been through many trying times,” he said. “This too will pass. It’s been 108 years. And we’re still saying thank you, Boston.”

Mayor Wu closed her speech with a message that drew loud applause: “Boston refuses to bow down to chaos and cruelty, even when it’s coming from our own federal government.”

Her message, like the tree itself, was clear: Some relationships aren’t about politics. They’re about people. And this one, rooted in gratitude and goodwill, keeps growing stronger.

Boston Mayor Joins Nova Scotia Tree-Cutting Ceremony, Says Tradition Stronger Than Politics

Botanists in California are celebrating the return of a plant many believed had vanished for good.

The caper-fruited tropidocarpum, a rare mustard-family plant native to California, was recently rediscovered in the Vasco Hills Regional Preserve in Contra Costa County — nearly seven decades after it was last seen in its natural habitat.

The find was made by a park botanist conducting a routine vegetation survey. Among the usual grasses, something unusual caught their eye. On closer inspection, it turned out to be a species many thought had been lost to development and invasive species.

"It's the first of this species that has been found in a long time and specifically on conservancy property," said Michele Hammond, wildland botanist for the East Bay Regional Park District, in an interview with SFGate. "It says we're doing something right."

The plant’s reappearance is more than a botanical curiosity — it’s a hopeful sign that conservation efforts are working. Long threatened by habitat loss and aggressive non-native grasses, the caper-fruited tropidocarpum had all but disappeared. Its sudden return suggests that efforts to protect and restore local grasslands are helping native species rebound.

This particular plant isn’t just rare; it also plays a role in supporting local biodiversity, including pollinators and healthy soils. When a species like this returns, it signals a recovering ecosystem — and benefits everything else living there, from insects to birds to neighboring plants.

For Hammond and her colleagues, the rediscovery is a reminder of California’s ecological richness — and its fragility.

"California is a global hotspot of biodiversity," she said. "So it makes sense that the more we look at the East Bay, the more we keep discovering, or rediscovering."

The find also serves as a broader lesson: Planting and protecting native species matters. Native plants are adapted to local conditions, require less water, and help push back against invasive species that crowd out native ecosystems.

In a state where land use and climate pressures continue to grow, stories like this one are a hopeful sign that the right actions can still make space for nature to heal — and sometimes surprise us.

A Rare California Plant Reappears After Nearly 70 Years — and it's a Big Win for Conservation

Students at Byram Middle School in Mississippi have just finished planting their school’s very first community garden, thanks to a project led by the school’s Beta Club. The garden, which now features cabbage, carrots, lettuce, green beans, and even ornamental plants, is already being recognized for growing more than just vegetables.

“This garden gives people the opportunity to come together, put their hands in the soil and actually work together for a common goal,” said assistant principal George Jones, speaking to WJTV.

The project is part of the broader mission of the National Beta Club, a youth organization that promotes academic achievement, character, leadership, and service. Other chapters across the U.S. have taken on environmental projects like beach cleanups, pollinator gardens, and tree planting. For the students in Byram, a garden made perfect sense.

Kenneth Brown, one of the organizers, said the idea was rooted in family. “My grandma and grandpa would grow their own things,” he told WJTV. “It really inspired me because I wanted to do the same thing.”

Community gardening is gaining traction in schools and neighborhoods across the country, and for good reason. Research has shown that gardening offers physical and mental health benefits, from reducing stress to promoting physical activity. And the food grown is often healthier too, free from the synthetic pesticides commonly found on grocery store produce.

Homegrown vegetables also come with a smaller carbon footprint. Store-bought produce travels long distances, and about 20% of the pollution tied to consumer goods comes from transportation alone. That pollution contributes to climate change and increasingly unpredictable weather, which in turn drives up food prices and strains local ecosystems.

By growing food locally, projects like this help break that cycle—while also teaching young people valuable lessons about sustainability, food systems, and teamwork.

Byram’s new garden is a small patch of land, but it’s already yielding something big: a deeper connection to the environment and to each other.

Middle Schoolers in Mississippi Build Their First Community Garden—and Grow More Than Just Food

People

In the wilds of Kenya’s Chyulu Hills, a new eastern black rhino calf has been spotted — and for conservationists, it’s a sign of hope for a species on the brink.

The critically endangered eastern black rhino, once thought extinct in this region, now numbers nine thanks to the birth of a calf confirmed by wildlife researchers with the Big Life Foundation. The baby is the second born in two years to the small group living in this part of southern Kenya.

“They are the last survivors of a population that once stretched the length of the Chyulu Hills,” the foundation said in a statement. “The survival of this distinct subpopulation, and its genes, is vital.”

With only an estimated 583 mature individuals left in the wild, according to the International Union for Conservation of Nature, each birth represents a small but meaningful victory.

The new calf is believed to be around six months old. Rangers first suspected its presence earlier this year, when they spotted tiny, distinct footprints trailing behind larger ones — likely its mother’s. The mother, a 14-year-old female named Namunyak, hadn’t appeared on Big Life’s camera traps for months, prompting speculation she was pregnant.

That theory was confirmed when she reappeared recently with a small calf by her side. Based on the group's dynamics, conservationists believe a male rhino named Chester is likely the father.

“Every time we see it, it’s moving around and being joyful — acting like you would think a cute little baby rhino would,” Amy Baird, deputy director of Big Life, told ABC News.

To protect the newborn, Big Life delayed announcing the birth until the calf passed the most vulnerable stage of its life. Now, at six months old, its chances of survival are increasing daily. If all goes well, this calf could live well into the 2060s.

The eastern black rhino population in Chyulu Hills was decimated by poaching in the 1970s, with many killed for their horns. By the late 1990s, experts believed they were gone from the area entirely. But rangers later discovered a small, isolated group that had managed to survive — and today, thanks to ongoing protection efforts, that group is slowly growing.

Big Life employs 63 rangers who regularly patrol and monitor the region. Their work includes tracking animal movements, preventing poaching, and maintaining camera traps that capture the rhinos’ comings and goings.

This latest birth is a testament to decades of patience, protection, and persistent conservation work.

“If all goes well,” the foundation said, “this calf represents the future.”

New Eastern Black Rhino Calf Caught on Camera is Sparking New Hope for Conservation in Kenya

Cambridge has joined the growing number of cities turning to reverse vending machines as a way to cut down on litter and encourage recycling, especially of single-use drink containers.

The machine, now active at Parkside Pools and Gym, was installed after successful trials in nearby towns such as Newmarket. It allows users to deposit plastic bottles and aluminum cans in exchange for digital reward points, which can be redeemed for discounts with local retailers, online stores, or even entered into cash giveaways.

"We are always keen to try out new ways of capturing recyclable packaging that could otherwise end up as litter or in landfill," Cambridge Councillor Rosy Moore told the BBC.

The machine is operated by Trove, a company that runs similar units in seven other towns. Their success has already drawn praise from local officials. “They have been tremendously successful,” said Councillor Janne Jarvis, referring to the impact in neighboring Newmarket.

Reverse vending machines are increasingly being adopted around the world thanks to their dual appeal: they boost recycling rates and give people a tangible reward for doing the right thing. Instead of throwing away bottles, users walk away with points or cash.

In some countries, the impact has been dramatic. Lithuania introduced a similar system in 2016. Within two years, its recycling rate for drink containers nearly tripled to 92%, and its overall plastic-packaging recycling rate rose by nearly 20%.

Retail chains are also joining the trend. In Ireland, Aldi grocery stores introduced the machines in early 2024. By October, customers had returned more than 363 million containers, earning over $70 million in return.

Some people are even turning the practice into a hustle. One TikTok video that went viral showed a woman in the U.S. earning $23 by depositing a full bag of bottles into a Costco machine in Connecticut. In Australia, a man famously made enough over several years to put down $45,000 toward a home.

With growing awareness of plastic waste and more governments looking for practical solutions, Cambridge’s latest move reflects a global shift: reward-based recycling that benefits both the planet and the people.

This UK City Installed a Reverse Vending Machine to Boost Recycling Efforts — Here's How it Works

Mongabay

The nave of Washington National Cathedral was filled with scientists, activists, diplomats, and children this week, all gathered not in grief, but in gratitude.

Jane Goodall’s celebration of life unfolded much like the woman herself: quiet, purposeful, and rooted in hope. There were no grand eulogies or tearful goodbyes—only stories, music, and a gentle but firm call to carry on the work she began.

“Jane was one of the world’s most remarkable human beings,” said Dean Randy Hollerith as the service opened. It was a simple truth, and one that echoed through the tributes that followed.

Goodall, who died at 91, changed the world’s understanding of animals and ourselves. She was the first to observe chimpanzees using tools, a discovery that challenged long-held ideas about what separates humans from other animals. But on this day, it was less about what she discovered and more about how she lived: with humility, humour, and a quiet conviction that every person can make a difference.

A quiet force for change

Anna Rathman, executive director of the Jane Goodall Institute USA, described a woman who led not with volume, but with presence.

“Jane was never the loudest in the room,” she said. “But her powerful message spoke volumes.”

Goodall believed conservation was about relationships—not just between people and nature, but between people themselves. Rathman urged the audience to treat her legacy not as a finished story but as a living mission. “Together we can, together we will, and together we must.”

A scientist with soul

Francis Collins, former director of the National Institutes of Health, remembered first meeting Goodall at a formal dinner in Washington, where she immediately began questioning him about the treatment of chimpanzees in U.S. research labs.

“She appealed to our better angels,” he said.

She told stories, not statistics. And she was right. Her persistence helped bring an end to invasive chimp research in the United States.

Their unlikely friendship grew over years of dinners—often over vegan Indian food—and deep conversations about ethics, science, and the meaning of life. They disagreed about genetically modified crops, Collins said, but never let it come between them.

“She blended science and spirit, reason and reverence,” he said. “No one represented the indomitable human spirit better than Jane herself.”

A friend and fellow fighter

Leonardo DiCaprio spoke not as a celebrity, but as a friend. The two shared more than 20 years of environmental work, both serving as U.N. Messengers of Peace.

“She changed not only the world, but so many of us in it,” DiCaprio said.

He remembered her as “gentle, curious, funny, witty, and absolutely unstoppable,” someone who could make even the most daunting global challenges feel solvable.

Even in her nineties, she traveled more than 300 days a year, powered by what DiCaprio called “resilience fueled by purpose.”

He shared a memory of posing for a photo with her: he faced the camera, but she looked at him instead. She told him that’s how she preferred it—connection, not image, was what mattered most.

“May we all honor her,” he said, “by carrying forward that same fierce belief that we can do better, that we must do better, and that we have a responsibility to protect this beautiful natural world we all share.”

He closed with her own words: “Every day that we live, we can make an impact. May ours be an impact of hope.”

From grandson to guardian

Merlin van Lawick, Goodall’s grandson, stood before the crowd with Mr. H, the plush chimpanzee that had accompanied her to countless schools and speeches.

He recalled her quiet walks to a secret spot by the water in Gombe, where she would sit alone for hours, then return with stories of ants, beetles, and birds. “She constantly reminded us that life was full of wonders,” he said.

Now, he said, she wouldn’t be returning from this walk. But he imagined her setting off on the “next great adventure,” a mystery she often said she welcomed with curiosity, not fear.

He promised to carry on her mission, to think with a clever mind and act with a compassionate heart. “The seeds of hope you have planted have taken root in millions,” he said. “You will live on in countless hearts.”

A legacy of action

Bishop Mariann Edgar Budde called Goodall “a human being fully alive,” someone who lived in awe of the natural world and saw no conflict between faith and science, reverence and reason.

Reading from Goodall’s writings, she reminded the congregation that even in dark times, hope endures: “You are here for a reason, and you can make a difference.”

Then she gave the crowd their assignment: “Get up. Go ahead. Do something.”

The service ended with tributes from Indigenous elders, music from the National Symphony and Cathedral Choir, and young members of Goodall’s Roots & Shoots program carrying a giant peace dove puppet.

Therapy dogs waited outside, a nod to Goodall’s lifelong love of animals—her “first love,” before even the chimpanzees.

There were no final words. Only an invitation.

Jane Goodall spent a lifetime proving that empathy is not weakness, that knowledge without compassion is not wisdom, and that hope, practiced daily, can become a habit. Her life was a promise, and now, that promise belongs to us.

“Every individual matters,” her grandson said, repeating her mantra. “Every individual makes a difference. And it is up to us to decide what kind of difference we make.”

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