Instructions: In this task, you are given a text of many news articles seperated by special token "|||||". Your task is to summarize them.
Input: TRANSCRIPT 
  
 JIM LEHRER: And finally, another in our ongoing series on poets and poetry. Tonight, Heather McHugh. She was just today awarded a MacArthur fellowship, popularly known as the genius award. McHugh is author of more than a dozen books of poetry, translation and essays. 
  
 Her newest collection, “Upgraded to Serious,” will be published in November. 
  
 HEATHER MCHUGH, poet: My name is Heather McHugh. I live in Seattle, and I take breaks in glorious Victoria, B.C. 
  
 I have always lived on waterfronts. If you live on the edge of an enormous mountain or an enormous body of water, it’s harder to think of yourself as being so important. That seems useful to me, spiritually. 
  
 My father was a marine biologist. There’s something of that gene in me, probably, to study the creatures that move in fluent, fluid ways. 
  
 "Who Needs It" "Who Needs It" "If language could be trusted to be true, the hardest would be loudest, as the soft is soft. But think again: the joke's on you. Against a granite face, the sea has knocked for years without much fuss or brouhaha, just here and there a little cracking sound, a suck in a pocket of cranny. But give it a load of beach-flesh and you'll never hear the end of it: the pumps in full palaver with the valvers, every sound resounding, pound for pound. You'd think slap-happy waves might hush at such soft-sanded touches. On the contrary, there is a cardiac clamor, a sumptuousness, a roaring into space. The ocean's noisiest around the giving place. But what's the message of our massing, past these minuscules of parts? Is it a song of manyness or tinyness? This suburb-reverb spilling out, gregarious, egregious, from the globe, does it go on for light-years, and convulse the quietudes of Heaven? Wake some star-shells? Stir some dulse? My guess is, yes, since endlessness needs us to take its pulse." 
  
 The paradox of poetry If you look around the surface of the water is never the same any two moments, much less any two days. Any skyscape is never the same. You can't possibly see it all. We narrow meaning down to make our meanings of it. For me, the whole point of poetry is to liberate the larger sense. The great paradox of poetry is it's the smallest unit of language you can make that releases the greatest number of readings. That's what it's for, if you ask me. As soon as any powerful linguistic category occurs in me or attracts me, its opposite also attracts me, because, I mean, life is only defined by its relation to death. Inevitably, you explore it. It is the way I love life, is to make sure I'm on some kind of civilized terms with death. ||||| Renowned Poet Heather McHugh and friends sell manuscript critiques benefitting Caregifted.org 
  
 SEATTLE -- On Tuesday, November 25, 2014, at 11 a.m. EST, many of America’s best writers plan to publicly offer exclusive manuscript critiques. Critiques will be on sale for $400-$2,500 and all proceeds will go to charity. This rare opportunity to have literary work reviewed by renowned authors and poets–such as Philip Levine, Billy Collins, Mark Doty, Rae Armantrout, Lucia Perillo, Janet Burroway, Nicholas Delbanco, Elizabeth McCracken, Roger Rosenblatt, Rebecca Wells and more–is available only at www.caregifted.org. 
  
 Spearheaded by recent MacArthur Genius Grant-recipient and Caregifted Executive Director Heather McHugh, the sale will raise money for long-term family caregivers who care for people living with severe disabilities. Caregifted continues to expand its artist-based initiatives building on efforts that have, in the last year alone, brought together Dale Chihuly, Molly Ringwald, Robert Pinsky, Laurie Anderson and many others to support caregivers. 
  
 Sign-up below for email alerts and read more about the sale on Huffington Post. 
  
 Listen to Seattle NPR station KPLU's report Seattle Poet Uses MacArthur Grant Money To Give Vacations To Exhausted Caregivers. 
  
 Participating authors include: 
  
 Rae Armantrout, Mary Jo Bang, Robin Black, Matt Bell, Janet Burroway, Ron Carlson, Alexander Chee, Billy Collins, Nicholas Delbanco, Mark Doty, Cornelius Eady, Therese A. Fowler, Daisy Fried, Linda Gregerson, Mark Halliday, Matthea Harvey, Tony Hoagland, Major Jackson, Ben Lerner, Philip Levine, Thomas Lux, Rebecca Makkai, Michael Martone, Elizabeth McCracken, Joyelle McSweeney, Eileen Myles, Lucia Perillo, Joanna Rakoff, Roger Rosenblatt, Natalie Serber, Brenda Shaughnessy, Rebecca Wells, Joe Wenderoth, Hilma Wolitzer, Laura van den Berg, Dean Young, Matthew Zapruder 
  
 How it Works: 
  
 The Caregifted Manuscript Critique Sale will officially open Tuesday November 25, 2014 at 11 a.m. EST and will close at midnight the same day. One literary critique can be purchased from each author for a fixed price on a first-come-first-serve basis. The critiques range in price from $400-$2500. When it is sold, the writer will be marked as "SOLD." Shop the sale early for your best chance at getting the critique you want. All proceeds from the sale go to benefit caregivers. Special thanks to everyone participating in the sale. ||||| Five years ago, Seattle poet Heather McHugh got some unexpected news: She had been awarded a MacArthur Foundation “Genius Grant” of $500,000. 
  
 For the next two years, she tried to figure out what to do with the money. The grant comes with no strings attached, but McHugh says she didn’t want to spend it on herself. 
  
 “Nobody deserves that kind of money, and I think something in me was chastened by being awarded such a big amount of money,” she said. 
  
 Then, her godson and his wife had a baby with severe disabilities, and McHugh says she kept thinking about how stressful that would be for them raising a daughter who would never walk, talk or be able to feed herself. 
  
 “It was obvious to me when that baby was born that in 10 years, they were going to need a break,” she said. 
  
 So McHugh took the money she received and used it to start a nonprofit called Caregifted, awarding vacations to people who have spent a decade or more taking care of a family member full-time. 
  
 The Challenges Of Caregiving Full-Time 
  
 One of the recipients is Tricia Elsner, a single mom of triplet 17-year-old sons living in Federal Way. 
  
 Outside the house she shares with her sister Kathy there’s a sign propped up that reads: “Autism Awareness. 1 in 50 children. Let’s find some answers.” 
  
 Elsner says she’s not sure that statistic is accurate, but one thing is clear: for her, it’s not one out of 50 kids, it’s two out of three. Her son Colin doesn’t have autism, but both Conner and Ian do. 
  
 Ian is not able to talk much. Conner can talk, but still has a hard time expressing himself. 
  
 Every 20 minutes or so, the boys roll in from school, or in Conner’s case, a job training program, shrug off their backpacks and head for their rooms. 
  
 “Did you have a good day?” Elsner asked Ian on a recent afternoon. 
  
 He answered with one word: “Help.” 
  
 He wants help getting out of a special harness he wears that attaches inside the bus because he won’t wear a seat belt. Elsner unzips it and Ian retreats to his room to watch "A Muppet Family Christmas" on his tablet. 
  
 He curls up on the bed, and Elsner leans over him, speaking slowly. 
  
 “Mom cleaned your room really well, okay? So no peeing on the floor and keep your clothes on, okay?” she said. 
  
 She explains that even though he knows how to use the toilet, he sometimes just doesn’t feel like it and urinates on the floor. 
  
 The Tantrums Of Almost-Grown Men Who Can't Communicate 
  
 Most parents are able to get through toddler temper tantrums and toilet training because there’s an end in sight. For Elsner, there hasn’t been an end. 
  
 And now, the tantrums she faces come from almost-grown men — her sons who can’t communicate what’s bothering them. 
  
 Conner mostly doesn’t want to be around Ian, but that’s unpredictable. Sometimes he’s fine with his brother. 
  
 “He’ll go over and say, 'Hug Ian, Kiss Ian!’ and hug Ian and give him a kiss and then go back to his room,” Elsner said. “And other times he comes in and says, 'Oh no, Ian’s home, no Ian! Ian leave the house.’ And I’m like, 'He’s fine. There’s nothing to be upset about.’ But he can’t tell us what the issue is.” 
  
 She and her sister do what they can to keep the peace, but things can spiral out of control. The knives are kept locked away in a cupboard. She only ever uses the back two burners of the stove. 
  
 “Kathy and I have both have been knocked to the ground,” she said. “Conner has kicked me across the room before, slams his head into my head. Ian mainly hurts himself.” 
  
 There’s a team of people who come and help, but when they’re there, Elsner has to use the time to do things like clean pee off the floor. On a good day, she’s able to squeeze in a nap or do some coursework toward a bachelor’s degree in teaching. 
  
 She’s exactly the kind of person poet McHugh set out to help. 
  
 'They Ask For The Simplest Things On Vacation' 
  
 “I can see how hard some lives are and how much they deserve tribute,” McHugh said. “They do it for their families, they do it out of love, but what they do benefits everybody and nobody’s thinking about it. Nobody’s waving thank you at them.” 
  
 So McHugh used the MacArthur grant money to give caregivers week-long getaways in Victoria, B.C., Maine and Napa Valley. She accompanies many of them and acts as a concierge, fulfilling their needs, playing tour guide and offering a listening ear. 
  
 “They ask for the simplest things on vacation,” she said. “They want to go for a walk when they want to. They want to read a book.” 
  
 McHugh is 66 with short-cropped hair and a bubbly manner. She talks with as much enthusiasm about her new espresso maker as she does about German philosophers. 
  
 And she’s trying to connect her background in the arts to her new calling heading a nonprofit. (She’s still bemused by that role. “I find it really hard to endure the word 'scalability,’” she confided. “There’s a whole lot of nonprofit language I had never heard before.”) 
  
 She’s wrangled some big-name writers (poet Billy Collins, novelist Rebecca Wells and many others) to donate their time to read aspiring authors’ manuscripts. The one-day fundraiser will be held on Nov. 25. 
  
 And this work has inspired her own poetry. She’s written a poem called “Caregivens” in which she drew from the unique vocabulary the caregivers use in their application essays. 
  
 A Respite To Clear Away 'A Feeling In My Chest Like A Big Stone' 
  
 So far, Caregifted has awarded getaways to almost 30 caregivers. Tricia Elsner went to the fishing village of Eastport, Maine last year for her trip away. 
  
 She did some whale watching and kayaking, had a massage and made herself a smoothie every morning to enjoy on her deck overlooking the harbor. In the evening, she watched the Food Network to her heart’s content. 
  
 It was the first time in many, many years that I only had to worry about myself. 
  
 “It was the first time in many, many years that I only had to worry about myself,” she said. “I didn’t have to worry about getting anybody their meds, if anybody was going to tantrum and set anybody off. It was just unbelievable.” 
  
 Now a year and a half later, she’s back to her regular life putting the needs of her sons first. 
  
 On this afternoon, she pushed Ian gently back and forth in a hammock swing that hangs from the doorway. They chatted, but it’s a conversation comprised only of sounds. 
  
 Ian says words that sound like “oy,” “doh” and “day.” Elsner repeats each one. 
  
 “We have conversations that I don’t know what we’re talking about, but we talk anyways, don’t we, Ian?” Elsner said. 
  
 She said even though the trip was short, it’s still having an impact on her ability to cope. 
  
 “After I got home, I realized that there had been a feeling in my chest like a big stone or rock that never went away,” she said. 
  
 She says after the trip, that feeling was gone. It hasn’t been an easy time since she came back — one son had to be hospitalized, and another had to leave school. But Elsner says that rock that used to be in her chest still hasn’t come back. |||||
Output:
What would you do with $500,000? For Seattle poet Heather McHugh, it took some figuring out. "Nobody deserves that kind of money, and I think something in me was chastened by being awarded such a big amount of money," McHugh tells KPLU. After receiving the money with a MacArthur Foundation "Genius Grant" in 2009, she saw her godson and wife start raising a severely disabled baby, and realized the stress they were under. "It was obvious to me when that baby was born that in 10 years, they were going to need a break," she says. So she created a nonprofit that gives a vacation to people who take care of their own family members for a decade. So far, nearly 30 have gone on such trips to Napa Valley, Maine, or Victoria, BC, often 66-year-old McHugh along for the ride. "They ask for the simplest things on vacation," says McHugh. "They want to go for a walk when they want to. They want to read a book." One recipient was Tricia Elsner of Eastport, Maine, who has two out of three kids with autism. Getting away from the daily stress of temper tantrums and kids peeing on the floor was a tremendous relief: "After I got home, I realized that there had been a feeling in my chest like a big stone or rock that never went away," she says—and that rock-feeling hasn't returned since getting away. But McHugh doesn't sound like she'll boast about her achievement: "If you live on the edge of an enormous mountain or an enormous body of water, it’s harder to think of yourself as being so important," she tells PBS about her life lived on waterfronts. "That seems useful to me, spiritually." (Read about a woman unsatisfied with a $1 billion divorce settlement.)