第2章 点亮生命的航灯
The Light Lit up in My Life
Some of my sisters work in Australia. On a reservation,among the Aborigines,there was an elderly man.I can assure you that you have never seen a situation as difficult as that poor old man's.He was completely ignored by everyone.His home was disordered anddirty.
I told him，“Please let me clean your house,wash your clothes and make your bed.”
He answered，“I'm okay like this. Let it be.”
I said again，“You will be still better if you allow me to do it.”
He finally agreed. So I was able to clean his house and wash his clothes.I discovered a beautiful lamp,covered with dust.Only God knows how many years had passed since he last lit it.
I asked him，“Don't you light your lamp?Don't you ever use it?”
He answered，“No. Nobody comes to see me.I have no need to light it.Who would I light it for?”
I asked，“Would you light it every night if my sisters came?”
He replied，“Of course.”
From that day on my sisters committed themselves to visiting him every evening. We cleaned the lamp and my sisters would light it every evening.
Two years passed. I had completely forgotten that man.He sent this message，“Tell my friend that the light she lit in my life continues to shine still.”
I thought it was a very small thing. We often neglect the small things.
在我生命中点亮的那盏灯
我的几个姊妹在澳洲工作。在一片保留地的土著居民中有一位上了年纪的人。我可以向你保证，你从未见过有比这个可怜老人处境更艰难的人，大家都对他熟视无睹，他的家又脏又乱。
我告诉他：“请让我帮你打扫房子、洗洗衣服、铺铺床吧。”
他应道：“我这样很好，随它去吧。”
我又说道：“如果你允许我这么做，你会觉得更好。”
他最终表示同意。于是，我才能帮他收拾房子、洗衣服。我发现一盏漂亮的灯，上面积满了灰尘。只有上帝晓得他最后一次点亮是多少年前的事儿。
我问他：“你不点这盏灯吗？你从没用过它吗？”
他回答说：“没有。谁都不来看我，我没必要点亮它，我为谁点亮呢？”
我问：“如果我的姊妹们来，你愿意每天夜里点亮它吗？”
他答道：“当然愿意。”
从那天起，我的姊妹们每天晚上都来看望他。我们把灯擦净，姊妹们每天晚上都把它点亮。
两年过去了，我已经完全忘记了那个人。他捎口信说：“告诉我的朋友，她在我生命中点亮的那盏灯仍在继续闪耀。”
我原以为这是一件区区小事，我们常常会忽视那些小事。
Life Is like a Cafeteria
A friend's grandfather came to America from Eastern Europe. After staying at Ellis Island,he went into a cafeteria in lower Manhattan to get something to eat.He sat down at an empty table and waited for someone to take his order.Of course nobody did.Finally,a woman with a tray full of food sat down opposite him and informed him how a cafeteria worked.
“Start out at the end，”she said.“Just go along the line and pick out what you want. At the other end they'll tell you how much you have to pay.”
“I soon learned that's how everything works in America，”the grandfather told a friend.“Life's a cafeteria here. You can get anything you want as long as you are willing to pay.You can even get success,but you'll never get it if you wait for someone to bring it to you.You have to get up and get it yourself.”
We can't change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is to dominate our attitudes.Once you reach that point in life,contentment and happiness cannot be too far away.And that will give you success.
人生就像自助餐厅
一位朋友的祖父从东欧来到美国。在埃利斯岛逗留后，他走进曼哈顿岛一家自助餐厅想吃点什么。他在一张空桌边坐下，等人来让自己点菜。当然不会有人来。最后，有一个端着盛满食物托盘的女人在他对面坐下来，告诉他自助餐厅是怎么经营的。
“从这头开始，”她说，“请顺着这排走，挑选你想吃的。到了另一头，他们会告诉你要付多少钱。”
“我马上明白美国的一切都是怎样运作的，”祖父告诉一个朋友，“在这里，人生就像自助餐厅，只要愿意付出，你就能得到自己想要的任何东西，你甚至能得到成功。但是如果等待别人带给你，你绝不会得到，你要起来自己去拿。”
我们无法改变命运，我们唯一能做的就是支配自己的态度。一旦你达到人生的那种境界，幸福和满足就不会太远，而且它会带给你成功。
It’s All Good
I heard the story told recently about a king in Africa who had a close friend he grew up with. The friend had a habit of looking at every situation that ever occurred in his life（positive or negative）and remarking，“This is good！”
One day the king and his friend were out on a hunting expedition. The friend would load and prepare the guns for the king.The friend had apparently done something wrong in preparing one of the guns,for after taking the gun from his friend,the king fired it and his thumb was blown off.Examining the situation the friend remarked as usual，“This is good！”To which the king replied，“No,this is NOT good！”and proceeded to send his friend to jail.
About a year later,the king was hunting in an area that he should have known to stay clear of. Cannibals captured him and took them to their village.They tied his hands,stacked some wood,set up a stake and bound him to the stake.
As they came near to set fire to the wood,they noticed that the king was missing a thumb. Being superstitious,they never ate anyone that was less than whole.So untying the king,they sent him on his way.
As he returned home,he was reminded of the event that had taken his thumb and felt remorseful for his treatment of his friend. He went immediately to the jail to speak with his friend.“You were right，”he said，“It was good that my thumb was blown off.”And he proceeded to tell the friend all that had just happened.“And so I am sorry for sending you to jail for so long.It was bad for me to do this.”
“No，”his friend replied，“this is good！”
“What do you mean?How could it be good that I sent my friend to jail for a year?”
“If I had NOT been in jail,I would have been with you.”
万事皆宜
我听到最近有人讲非洲一位国王的故事。国王有一位一起长大的亲密朋友，这个朋友习惯审视自己生活中发生的各种情况，无论正面的还是负面的，他都会说：“这是好事！”
有一天，国王和他的朋友外出打猎。这个朋友为国王装好弹药，准备好枪支。他显然在准备其中一支枪时出了差错，因为国王从朋友这里拿过枪开火后，大拇指被炸飞了。研究分析了情况后，国王的朋友像往常一样说：“这是好事！”国王回答说：“不，这不是好事！”接着就把朋友送进了牢房。
大约一年后，国王在一片他应该知道要避开的地区打猎。食人族抓住了他，把他带到村子里，捆住他的双手，堆起一些木柴，竖起木桩，把他绑在木桩上。
正当他们靠近并放火点燃木柴时，他们注意到国王少了一根大拇指。因为迷信，他们从不吃不完整的人，于是就松开国王，又送他上路。
回家时，别人的提醒让国王想起了自己失去大拇指这件事，那样对待朋友使他感到懊悔。他马上去牢房和朋友交谈。“你是对的，”他说，“我的大拇指被炸飞是好事。”接着，他把发生的一切告诉了朋友。“因此，我很抱歉让你坐了这么久的牢。我这样做真糟糕。”
“不，”他的朋友回答说，“这是好事！”
“你这话什么意思？我让朋友坐了一年牢，这怎么能是好事呢？”
“如果不坐牢，我就会跟你在一起。”
Gift of Insults
There once lived a great Samurai warrior. Though quite old,he was still able to defeat any challenger.His reputation extended far and wide throughout the land and many students gathered to study Zen under him.
One day an infamous young warrior arrived at the village. He was determined to be the first man to defeat the great master.Along with his strength,he had an uncanny ability to spot and exploit any weakness in an opponent.He would wait for his opponent to make the first move,thus revealing a weakness,and then would strike with merciless force and lightning speed.No one had ever lasted with him in a match beyond the first move.
Much against the advice of his students,the old master accepted the young warrior's challenge. As the two squared off for battle,the young warrior began to insult the master.But the old warrior stood there,motionless and calm.Finally,the young warrior exhausted himself.Knowing he was defeated,he left ashamed of himself.
Somewhat disappointed that he did not fight the insolent youth,the students gathered around the master and asked him，“How could you endure such an indignity?How did you drive him away?”
“If someone comes to you with a gift,and you do not accept it,to whom does the gift belong?”asked the Samurai.
“To the one who tried to deliver it，”replied one of his students.
“The same goes for envy,anger and insults，”said the master.
自取其辱
曾经在一个村子里住着一位杰出的日本武士，尽管他年事已高，但仍能打败任何挑战者。他名扬全国，许多学徒都聚到他门下学习禅宗。
有一天，一个声名狼藉的年轻武士来到大师所居住的村子。他下定决心要成为第一个击败大师的人。除了实力，他还有发现和利用对手弱点的神秘本领。他急切地等待对手先出招，这样对手就会露出破绽，然后他会毫不留情地以闪电般的速度给予还击。从来没有人能在与他的较量中顶得住第一招。
大师力排徒弟们的建议，欣然接受了年轻武士的挑战。二人摆开阵势，年轻武士开始辱骂大师。但是，大师一动不动，镇定自若。最后，年轻武士精疲力竭，自知已败，羞愧而去。
徒弟们见大师并没有和这个无礼小辈交手，略感失望，就围住大师，问道：“你怎么能忍受这样的侮辱？你是怎么把他赶走的呢？”
“如果有人携礼物来见你，你不接受，礼物会属于谁呢？”大师问道。
“属于想设法送礼的人。”其中一个徒弟回答。
“嫉妒、愤怒和谩骂也一样。”大师说。
Just Five More Minutes
While at the park one day,a woman sat down next to a man on a bench near a playground.“That's my son over there，”she said,pointing to a little boy in a red sweater who was gliding down the slide.
“He's a fine-looking boy，”the man said.“That's my son on the swing in the blue sweater.”Then,looking at his watch,he called to his son.“What do you say we go,Todd?”
Todd pleaded，“Just five more minutes,Dad. Please just five more minutes.”The man nodded and Todd continued to swing to his heart's content.
Minutes passed and the father stood and called again to his son，“Time to go now.”Again Todd pleaded，“Five more minutes,Dad. Just five more minutes.”
The man smiled and said，“OK.”
“My,you certainly are a patient father，”the woman responded.
The man smiled and then said，“My older son Tommy was killed by a drunk driver last year while he was riding his bike near here. I never spent much time with Tommy.I've vowed not to make the same mistake with Todd.He thinks he has five more minutes to swing.The truth is that I get five more minutes to watch.”
Life is all about making priorities. What are your priorities?Give someone you love five more minutes of your time today！
就五分钟
有一天，公园里一个女人挨着一个男人在游乐场旁边的一条长椅上坐下来。“那边那个是我的儿子。”她指着一个身穿红色厚运动衫正在滑滑梯的小男孩说。
“他是一个漂亮的男孩，”男人说，“那个穿蓝色厚运动衫荡秋千的是我的儿子。”说着，他看了看手表，朝自己儿子喊道：“我们走，你说怎么样，托德？”
托德央求道：“就等五分钟，爸爸，就再等五分钟。”男人点点头，托德继续尽情地荡着秋千。
时间一分钟一分钟地过去了。这位父亲站在那里，又朝儿子喊道：“现在该走了吧。”托德又央求道：“再有五分钟，爸爸，就再等五分钟。”
男士微微一笑说：“好吧。”
“哎呀，你的确是一位有耐心的父亲。”那位女士说。
男士微微一笑，然后说道：“我的大儿子汤米去年在附近骑自行车时被一个醉酒司机撞死了。我从来没有花多少时间陪伴汤米，我发过誓不在托德身上犯同样的错误。”
生活中的任何事都有轻重缓急。你会优先考虑什么事情呢？把你今天的时间多给你爱的人五分钟吧！
The Most Important Part of My Busy Day
“Mommy,look！”cried my daughter,Darla,pointing to a hawk soaring through the air.
“Uh huh，”I murmured,driving,lost in thought about the tight schedule of my day.
Disappointment filled her face.“What's the matter,sweetheart?”I asked.
“Nothing，”my seven-year-old said. The moment was gone.Near home,we slowed to search for the albino deer that came out from behind the thick mass of trees in the early evening.She was nowhere to be seen.
Dinner,baths and phone calls filled the hours until bedtime.
“Come on,Darla,time for bed！”She raced past me up the stairs. Tired,I kissed her on the cheek,said prayers and tucked her in.
“Mom,I forgot to give you something！”she said.
My patience was gone.“Give it to me in the morning，”I said,but she shook her head.
“You won't have time in the morning！”she retorted.
“I'll take time，”I answered. Sometimes no matter how hard I tried,time flowed through my fingers like sand in an hourglass,never enough.Not enough for her,for my husband,and definitely not enough for me.
She wasn't ready to give up yet. She wrinkled her little nose in anger and tossed away her chestnut brown hair.
“No,you won't！It will be just like today when I told you to look at the hawk. You didn't even listen to what I said.”
I was too tired to argue.“Good night！”I shut her door with a resounding thud. My husband asked，“Why so glum?”I told him.
“Maybe she's not asleep yet. Why don't you check?”he said.
I opened her door,and the moonlight from the window spilled over her sleeping form. In her hand I could see the remains of a crumpled paper.Slowly,I opened her palm to see what the item of our disagreement had been.
Tears filled my eyes. She had torn into small pieces a big red heart with a poem she had written，“Why I Love My Mother?”
I carefully removed the pieces. Once the puzzle was put back into place,I read what she had written：
“Why I Love My Mother?Although you're busy,and you work so hard,you always take time to play with me. I love you Mommy,because I am the biggest part of your busy day！”
The words were an arrow straight to the heart.
Ten minutes later I carried a tray to her room,with two cups of hot chocolate and two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. When I softly touched her smooth cheek,I could feel my heart filled with love.
She woke from the sleep.“What is that for?”she asked.
“This is for you,because you are the most important part of my busy day！”
She cracked a sweet smile.
一天中最重要的部分
“妈咪，快看！”女儿达拉指着一只在空中翱翔的鹰喊道。
“嗯，呃。”我一边开车，一边咕哝道，想着排得满满的日程。
她一脸失望。“怎么了，宝贝？”我问。
“没什么。”7岁的女儿说。那个时刻转瞬即逝。快到家时，我们放慢速度寻找那只患白化病的鹿。傍晚时分，它会从茂密的树丛后面走出来。但是今天哪里都不见它的踪影。
晚饭、沐浴和电话占满了就寝前的所有时间。
“快点，达拉，该睡觉了！”她跑过我，上了楼梯。我疲惫不堪，吻了吻她的脸颊，祈祷，给她掖好被子。
“妈妈，我忘记给你一件东西！”她说。
我没有了耐心。“明天早上给我吧。”我说，但她摇了摇头。
“明天早上你不会有时间！”她反驳。
“我会抽时间。”我回答。有时无论我如何努力，时间还是像沙漏中的沙粒一样从指间流过，总是不够用，不够用来陪她，不够用来陪丈夫，当然对自己也不够用。
她还不准备放弃。她气呼呼地皱起小鼻子，把红棕色的头发甩到了一边。
“不，你不会！就像今天我让你看那只鹰时一样，你连我说什么都不听。”
我太累了，不想辩解。“晚安！”我砰的一声关上她的房门。
我的丈夫问道：“为什么闷闷不乐？”我告诉了他。
“可能她还没睡着，你为什么不去看看呢？”他说。
我打开她的门，窗外的月光洒在她熟睡的身上。我可以看到她手里有一些揉皱的纸片。我慢慢地掰开她的手掌，想看看我们的分歧到底是什么。
泪水溢满了我的眼眶。她撕成碎片的原是一颗大大的红心，上面是她写的一首诗：“为什么我爱我的妈妈？”
我仔细移动那些纸片。纸片一拼回原样，我就读出了她写的那首诗：
“为什么我爱我的妈妈？尽管你很忙，工作很辛苦，但你总是抽时间陪我玩。我爱你妈咪，因为我是你忙忙碌碌一天中最重要的部分！”
这些话像箭一样直射我的心脏。
十分钟后，我端着一只托盘来到她的房间，托盘上放着两杯热巧克力饮料和两块花生酱果冻三明治。我温柔地抚摸着她光洁的脸蛋，能感觉到自己心里充满了浓浓爱意。
她从睡梦中醒来。“这是干什么？”她问。
“这是送给你的，因为你是我忙忙碌碌一天中最重要的部分！”
她露出了甜蜜的微笑。
23 to 4
An 80-year-old man was sitting on the sofa with his 45-year-old son. Suddenly a cove perched on their windowsill.
The father asked his son，“What is this?”
The son replied，“It is a dove.”
After a few minutes,the father asked his son for the second time，“What is this?”
The son said，“Father,I have just told you. It's a dove.”
After a little while,the old father asked his son for the third time，“What is this?”
This time the son told his father crudely，“It's a dove,a dove.”
After a moment,the father asked his son for the fourth time，“What is this?”
This time the son shouted at his father，“Why do you keep asking me the same question again and again?I have told you so many times‘IT IS A DOVE！'Don't you understand this?”
A little later the father went to his room and came back with an old tattered diary. On opening a page,he asked his son to read that page.
“Today my little son aged three was sitting with me on the sofa,when a dove sat on the windowsill. My son asked me 23 times what it was,and I replied to him all 23 times that it was a dove.I hugged him lovingly for 23 times each time he asked me the same question.I did not at all feel irritated.Instead,I felt affection for my innocent child.”
When the little child asked him 23 times“What is this”，the father only felt affection for his son. But when today the father asked his son the same question for just 4 times,the son felt irritated.
So if your parents attain old age,do not repulse them or look at them as a burden,but speak to them a gracious word,be obedient and considerate to them. From today on,say this aloud，“I want to be kind to my parents,for they have always showered their selfless love on me.”
23比4
一位80岁的老人和他45岁的儿子一起坐在沙发上。突然，一只鸽子落在了窗台上。
父亲问儿子：“这是什么？”
儿子回答：“这是一只鸽子。”
过了几分钟，父亲第二次问儿子：“这是什么？”
儿子说：“爸爸，我刚刚告诉过你，这是一只鸽子。”
过了一小会儿，老父亲第三次问儿子：“这是什么？”
这次，儿子生硬地告诉父亲：“这是一只鸽子，一只鸽子。”
又过了一会儿，父亲第四次问儿子：“这是什么？”
这次儿子冲父亲大声喊道：“为什么你一直反复问我同样的问题？‘这是一只鸽子！’我已经告诉你许多次了，你听不明白吗？”
片刻之后，父亲走进他的房间，拿回来一本破旧的日记。他翻开一页，让儿子读。
“今天我和3岁的小儿子坐在沙发上，这时有一只鸽子卧在窗台上。儿子问了我23次那是什么，我共回答了他23次，说那是一只鸽子。每一次他问同样的问题，我都亲切地拥抱他，共拥抱了他23次，我一点儿也不感到恼火。相反，我感受到了我对天真孩子的慈爱之情。”
小孩子问了23次“这是什么”，父亲只是感到了对儿子的慈爱之情。但是，如今父亲只问了4次相同的问题，儿子就感到恼火。
所以，如果你的父母上了年纪，不要排斥他们，也不要把他们视为负担，而要对他们言语亲切、孝顺体贴。从今天起，要大声这样说：“我会善待父母，因为他们总是给予我大量无私的爱。”
The Embassy of Hope
When Mark was five years old,his parents divorced. He stayed with his mother,while his father enlisted in the armed forces.As Mark grew up,he occasionally had recollections of the brief time he had with his father and longed to see him again.But as Mark became an adult,the thoughts of his father began to subside.He was now more into girls,motorcycles,and parties.
After Mark graduated from college,he married his high-school sweetheart. A year later she gave birth to a healthy baby boy.
One day when Mark's son was five years old and as Mark was preparing to shave his face,his son looked up at him and laughed，“Daddy,you look like a clown with that whipped cream on your face.”
Mark laughed,looked into the mirror and realized how much his son looked like him at that age. Later he remembered a story his mother had told him of him telling his father the same thing.
Mark began thinking about his father and started asking his mother. It had been a long time since Mark spoke of his father and his mother told him that she had not spoken to his father in over twenty years and all her knowledge of his whereabouts stopped when Mark became eighteen.
Mark looked deep into his mother's eyes and said，“I need to find my father.”His mother commented that his relatives had all passed away and she had no idea where to begin searching for him but added，“Maybe,just maybe,if you contact the United States Embassy in England,they might be able to help you.”
Even though the chances seemed slim,Mark was determined. He called the Embassy.
“U. S.Embassy,how may we help you?”
“My name is Mark Sullivan and I am hoping to find my father.”
After a long pause,the receiver asked，“Is this a Mr. Mark Joseph Sullivan?”
“Yes，”Mark said anxiously.
“And you were born in Vincennes,Indiana,at the Good Samaritan Hospital on October 19，1970?”
“Yes.”
“Mark,please don't hang up，”the man made an announcement at the embassy.“Everyone listen！……I have terrific news……Lieutenant Ronald L. Sullivan's son is on the phone……he found us！”
On this instant,Mark heard a roar of a crowd clapping,cheering and laughing.
The man returned to the telephone and said，“Mark,we're so glad you have called. Your father has been coming here in person or calling almost every day for the past nine years,checking to see if we found you.”
希望大使馆
马克5岁时，他的父母分道扬镳。他和母亲一起住，父亲应征参军。马克逐渐长大，他偶尔会想起与父亲一起度过的那段短暂岁月，渴望再见到父亲。但是，马克成人后，他对父亲的思念开始淡去。他现在关注更多的是姑娘、摩托车和各种聚会。
大学毕业后，马克娶了中学时那位情人。一年后，她生了一个健康的男婴。
马克的儿子5岁那年，有一天，马克正准备刮脸，儿子抬起头看着他笑道：“爸爸，你脸上涂着生奶油像个小丑。”
马克哈哈大笑，望着镜子，意识到儿子看上去多么像那个年纪的自己。稍后，他记起了母亲曾对他讲过他也对父亲这样说过。
马克开始想自己的父亲，也开始询问自己的母亲。马克很久没有说起自己的父亲了，母亲告诉他，她有二十多年没有跟他父亲联系了，她对他父亲行踪的了解还停留在马克18岁那年。
马克凝视着母亲的眼睛说：“我要找到父亲。”母亲说父亲的亲戚都已经去世了，她不知道该去哪里寻找他，但又补充说：“也许，只是也许，如果你联系一下美国驻英国大使馆，他们说不定能帮助你。”
即使希望渺茫，马克还是下定决心，给大使馆打去了电话。
“美国大使馆，你需要我们如何帮你？”
“我叫马克·沙利文，我希望找到我的父亲。”
过了好一阵子，接电话的人问道：“是马克·约瑟夫·沙利文吗？”
“是。”马克不安地说。
“那你是1970年10月19日出生在印第安纳州温森尼斯市乐善好施医院吗？”
“是。”
“马克，请不要挂断，”那个人在大使馆宣布，“大家听着……我有惊人的消息……罗纳德·L.沙文中尉的儿子正在与我通话……他找到了我们！”
顷刻间，马克听到了电话里响起了众人的掌声、欢呼声和笑声。
那个人回话说：“马克，我们非常高兴你打来电话。你的父亲在过去9年里几乎每天不是亲自来这里，就是打电话来，询问我们是否找到了你。”
A Little Piece of Me
When he told me he was leaving,I felt like a vase which has just smashed. There were pieces of me all over the tidy floor.He kept talking,telling me why he was leaving,explaining it was for the best.I could do better.It was his fault and not mine.I had heard it before many times and yet somehow was still not immune；perhaps one did not become immune to such felony.
He left and I tried to get on with my life. I filled the kettle and put it on to boil.I took out my old red mug and filled it with coffee,watching as each coffee granule slipped into the china.That was what my life had been like,endless coffee granules,somehow never managing to make that cup of coffee.
Somehow when the kettle piped its finishing warning I pretended not to hear it. That's what Mike's leaving had been like,sudden and with an awful finality.I would rather just wallow in uncertainty than have things finished.I laughed at myself.Imagine getting philosophical and sentimental about a mug of coffee.I must be getting old.
And yet it was a young woman who stared back at me from the mirror. A young woman full of hope,a young woman with bright eyes and full lips,just waiting to take on the world.I never loved Mike anyway.Besides,there are more important things.More important than love,I insist to myself firmly.The lid goes back on the coffee just like closure on the whole Mike experience.
He doesn't haunt my dreams as I feared that night. Instead I am flying far across fields and woods,looking down on those below me.Suddenly I fall to the ground and it is only when I wake up that I realize I was shot by a hunter,brought down by the burden of not the bullet but the soul of the man who shot it.I realize later,with some degree of understanding,that Mike was the hunter holding me down and I am the bird that longs to fly.The next night my dream is similar to the previous night's,but without the hunter.I fly free until I meet another bird who flies with me in perfect harmony.I realize with some relief that there is a bird out there for me,and there is another person,not necessarily a lover perhaps just a friend,but there is someone out there who is my soul mate.
I think about being a broken vase again and realize that I have glued myself back together. What Mike has is merely a little part of my time,a little understanding of my physical being.He has only a little piece of me.
我生命历程的一段记忆
他告诉我他要离开时，我就像只刚摔碎的花瓶，支离破碎的我散落在洁净的地面上。他不停地劝说着，告诉我他离开的原因，解释说这会是最好的结局。我本可以表现得更好些，毕竟，错在他不在我。这些话我已经听了很多次了，但莫名其妙的是，我仍不能冷静面对；或许如此痛苦，谁都无法冷静面对。
他走了，而我要尽力把自己的生活支撑下去。我把水壶灌满并打开火烧水。我取出那只红色的旧杯子，倒满咖啡，注视着每一粒咖啡滑落进陶瓷杯内。我的生活就如同这咖啡，一粒又一粒的咖啡却怎么也冲泡不成一杯咖啡。
不知何故，水壶尖厉地发出警报声，我假装没有听到。这就是迈克离开的情形，那么突然，带着极度的痛苦。我宁愿陷入将信将疑之中，也不愿将事情做一了结。我嘲笑自己，我对一杯咖啡的遐想竟然理性而感伤，我一定是老了。
然而，的确有一个女人从镜子里注视着我。一个满怀希望的青年女子，双眸闪烁，嘴唇丰盈，蠢蠢欲动正准备驾驭这个世界。毕竟，我从未爱过迈克。而且，还有其他更重要的事情，比爱情更重要，我向自己强调着。杯盖回到咖啡杯上，好似给了迈克这段经历一个终结。
那天晚上，他并没有像我担心的那样萦绕在我的梦里。相反，我飞得很远，飞过片片田野和丛林，俯瞰身下的一切。突然，我掉在地面上。就在我醒来的那一刻，我发觉我被猎人射中，击倒我的不是子弹，而是射出子弹的那个人的灵魂。随即，我带着几分醒悟，意识到，迈克正是那个掠我下来的猎人，而我就是那只渴望飞翔的鸟。第二天晚上，我的梦与前夜的梦差不多，但没有猎人出现。我自由飞翔，直至遇到另一只鸟，它与我飞得是那样和谐平静。我稍稍释然，毕竟有只鸟为我出现在梦里，会有另一个人，不见得是情人，或许仅仅是朋友，但会有某个人在那里成为我灵魂的伴侣。
我又一次想象自己成了一只碎花瓶，感觉到我已把自己黏合完整。迈克呢，只是我生命的一小段历程，是我对自己的一点认识。他占据的只是我生命的一小段记忆。
Thanks for Your Time
It had been some time since Jack had seen the old man. College,girls,career,and life itself got in the way.In fact,Jack moved across the country in pursuit of his dreams.There,in the rush of his busy life,Jack had little time to think about the past and stay with his wife and son.He was working on his future,and nothing could stop him.
Over the phone,his mother told him，“Mr. Belser died last night.The funeral is on Wednesday.”
Memories flashed through his mind like an old newsreel as he sat quietly remembering his childhood days.
“Jack,did you hear me?”
“Sorry,Mom. Yes,I heard you.It's been so long since I thought of him.I'm sorry,but I honestly thought he died years ago，”Jack said.
“Well,he didn't forget you. Every time I saw him he'd ask how you were doing.He'd reminisce about the many days you spent over‘his side of the fence'as he put it，”Mom told him.
“I loved that old house he lived in，”Jack said.
“You know,Jack,after your father died,Mr. Belser stepped in to make sure you had a man's influence in your life，”she said.
“He's the one who taught me carpentry，”he said.“I wouldn't be in this business without him. He spent a lot of time teaching me things he thought were important……Mom,I'll be there for the funeral，”Jack said.
As busy as he was,he kept his word. Jack caught the next flight to his hometown.Mr.Belser's funeral was small and uneventful.He had no children of his own,and most of his relatives had passed away.
The night before he had to return home,Jack and his Mom stopped by to see the old house next door one more time.
Standing in the doorway,Jack paused for a moment. It was like crossing over into another dimension,a leap through space and time.
The house was exactly as he remembered. Every step held memories.Every picture,every piece of furniture……Jack stopped suddenly.
“What's wrong,Jack?”his Mom asked.
“The box is gone，”he said.
“What box?”Mom asked.
“There was a small gold box that he kept locked on top of his desk. I must have asked him a thousand times what was inside.All he'd ever tell me was‘the thing I value most'，”Jack said.
It was gone. Everything about the house was exactly how Jack remembered it,except for the box.He figured someone from the Belser family had taken it.
“Now I'll never know what was so valuable to him，”Jack said.“I'd better get some sleep. I have an early flight home,Mom.”
It had been about two weeks since Mr. Belser died.Returning home from work one day Jack discovered a note in his mailbox.“Signature required on a package.Please stop by the main post office within the next three days，”the note read.
Early the next day jack got the package. The small box was old and looked like it had been mailed a hundred years ago.The handwriting was difficult to read,but the return address‘Mr.Harold Belser'caught his attention.
Jack took the box out to his car and opened the package. Inside there was the gold box and an envelope.Jack's hands shook as he read the note inside.
“Upon my death,please forward this box and its contents to Jack Bennett. It's the thing I valued most in my life.”A small key was taped to the letter.His heart racing,tears filling his eyes,Jack carefully unlocked the box.There inside he found a beautiful gold pocket watch.
Running his fingers slowly over the beautiful casing,he unlatched the cover. Inside he found these words engraved：“Jack,thanks for your time！—Harold Belser”
“The thing he valued most was my time！”Jack held the watch for a few minutes,and then called his office to cancel his appointments for the next two days.“Why?”Janet,his assistant asked.
“I need some time to spend with my son，”he said.“Oh,by the way,Janet,thanks for your time！”
Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take,but by the moments that take our breath away.
感谢你的陪伴
距离杰克上次见那位老人已有段日子了。学业、女友、事业和生活琐事使杰克无暇去看望老人。他为了追逐自己的梦想游走在全国各地，如此一来，为了生活奔波的杰克少有时间去思索过去、陪伴妻儿。他忙于前途，什么也阻挡不了他。
电话里，杰克的母亲告诉他：“贝尔瑟先生昨晚去世了，葬礼周三举行。”
回忆不断闪过杰克的脑海，就像一部老新闻片，他静静地坐在那里追忆自己的童年时光。
“杰克，你在听吗？”
“抱歉，妈妈。是的，我在听。上次想起他已是很早以前了。我很抱歉，但说实话我原以为他几年前就去世了。”杰克说。
“噢，他可没有忘记你。每次我见到他，他都会问你的情况。他总会提到那些你在‘篱笆那边他家’度过的日子，他是这么说的。”母亲告诉他。
“我喜欢他住的那栋老房子。”杰克说。
“杰克，你要知道，你爸爸去世之后，贝尔瑟先生走进了我们的生活，确保你能够受到成年男性的影响。”母亲说。
“他正是那个教会我做木工活的人。”杰克说，“没有他，我不会进入这个行业。他花了很多时间教我他认为重要的事情……妈妈，我会去参加葬礼的。”
他依旧繁忙，但他遵守了承诺。杰克乘坐最近的一个航班回到自己的家乡。贝尔瑟先生的葬礼规模很小，平淡冷清，他自己没有儿女，亲戚大多已不在人世了。
回家的前一天晚上，杰克和他母亲顺道又一次去看看那栋老房子。
站在门廊里，杰克踟蹰了一会儿。他仿佛跨越了时空，进入了一个异度空间。
这栋房子正如他记忆中的那样，每个台阶都饱藏着回忆，每幅画，每件家具……杰克突然站住了。
“怎么了，杰克？”母亲问道。
“盒子不见了。”他回答。
“什么盒子？”母亲问。
“他锁着放在书桌上的一只小金盒。我问过他一千次里面放的是什么，每次他告诉我的只是‘我最珍视的东西’。”杰克说。
盒子不见了。房子里的每件东西都一如杰克记忆中的样子，除了那个盒子。他推测是贝尔瑟先生家里的人拿走了。
“好了，我永远都不会知道是什么对他那么重要了，”杰克说，“我最好睡一会儿。我是凌晨的飞机，妈妈。”
贝尔瑟先生去世大约两周后，有一天杰克下班回家，发现邮箱里有个纸条。“包裹需要签收。请于三日内到邮政总局取。”纸条上写道。
次日清晨，杰克取了包裹。那个小盒子旧迹斑斑，如同一百年前邮寄的一般。字迹难以辨认，但寄件人“哈罗德·贝尔瑟先生”引起了他的注意。
杰克拿上盒子，走出邮局，来到车上，打开包裹。里面装着那只金盒和一个封信。杰克读着里面的信，手颤抖着。
“我死的时候，请把这个盒子和里面的东西转寄给杰克·班尼特。这是我这一生最珍视的东西。”一把小钥匙附在信上，杰克的心怦怦直跳，泪水盈眶。他小心翼翼打开盒子，在盒子里面，他看到一块漂亮的金怀表。
杰克手指摩挲着漂亮的表盒，打开表盖，注意到里面几个刻下的文字：“杰克，谢谢你的陪伴！——哈罗德·贝尔瑟。”
“他最珍视的东西是我陪伴他的时间！”杰克握着怀表好几分钟，然后打电话到办公室取消了接下来两天的预约。“为什么呢？”他的助手珍妮特问道。
“我需要点时间来陪儿子，”他说，“噢，顺便说一句，珍妮特，谢谢你的陪伴！”
生命不取决于我们呼吸的次数，而取决于那些带走我们呼吸的时光。
God Has Been Good to Me
This is a heart-warming story. I guess we never view life in such a way.We all complain when life seems unfair to us.We have never thought about how much we are blessed.
For 25 years,I watched him fight cancer of the face. First just a small speck that begin to grow larger.Year after year I watch him go to hospital to have a bit cut out each time.As the years went by,more and more of his face was cut away.When he returned with what is left of his face,he tried to smile.He never complained or was downhearted.
He was a skilful mechanic and carpenter. In fact,he was one of the best.Whenever he does his job,he stands back to see if there is anything left out that could be added to make it perfect.Then he would see some little place that the average person would neglect.He would then touch it up.
I suspect he said this to himself“My work will be my face and my life.”I doubt if he open looked in the mirror at his damaged face where the cancer ate into every day. No matter how small the job was or how crude the other workers seemed,it never bothered him.This was his work and it had to be done right.He never glanced at the work of others.A shoddy work done by others was not his concern.Nevertheless,I suspect when the job was done,he had a sense of inner pride and joy when he saw how outstanding it was.But he never boasted about it.
As the years went by,he became weaker and weaker. His hands did not move with confidence and speed that so characterized him.He was unable to do many things.However,no matter what the work or pay was he always had the insatiable desire to do a good job.
The helpers he got were not able to impress him. They thought he was cranky,trying so hard to complete every detail.So he worked alone.He did not complain.He would just appear the next morning by himself with no explanation of the absence of his helpers.
During the latter day,he had only the shambles of a face. He would wrap it up in a red handkerchief,leaving only his eyes.When you met him on the streets,he would always give a cheerful greeting.As time went on,it was more and more difficult for him to speak.Often he would move his walking stick.This stick,too,was a thing of beauty,carved out by his skilful hands.
His life seemed to be filled with contentment and peace. I suspect that he thanked God for those hands and the fact that they was not marred in any way.
He would often be missed about his usual haunts for weeks or months. He would make his journey to the hospital for the surgeon to cut away more of his face.Then you would see him again,a bit more gruesome.There would be no complaint,no telling of his operation and pain.He would just quietly go to work that was awaiting him.
In all his time,I never knew him to come back with any complaints about the pain. You would think there was nothing the matter if you did not see his face.When the days of his labors seemed to come to an end,his chief concern was that his tools might be in good hands.He sent for me one day and told me he wished someone would appreciate the tools and use them properly.
When I took a young man to see him about the tools,there came a look of contentment and satisfaction. His work was finished and he was ready to cash in.A few days before he died he was walking in the yard.His face was nearly completely covered with bandages.Only his eyes were uncovered.As he hobbled about the yard,he said，“I am going to keep young just as long as I can.”
The day he died,I went to see him again. The smell was so offensive you could hardly stay there.What was left of his face was a mass of scars and there was really nothing to cut away.You could tell he was in great pain and had many sleepless nights.But still there were no words of complaints.
I shall never forget his last words. Even afterwards they have made me ashamed whenever I feel like complaining.Still day after day,they are vivid in my mind.
The words are，“God has been good to me. I have never had any reason to complain.”
上帝善待我
这是一个感人的故事。我想我从未以这样的方式来审视人生。生活看起来好像对我们不公正时，我们往往去抱怨，从不考虑我们是多么幸福。
25年来，我看着他与面部的癌症抗争。起初只是一个小小的斑点，后来越长越大。一年又一年，我目睹他上医院每次切除一点。年复一年，他的脸部一点点被切除掉。每次带着他那张剩下的脸回来，他都试图微笑着。他从不抱怨，也不垂头丧气。
他是一个技艺娴熟的木工技师。实事求是地讲，他是一流的。只要是做活，他总会退后察看有没有任何疏忽可以加以完善的地方。他总会瞅见某处会被常人忽视的小细节，然后他就会把它细细修缮。
我猜想他对自己说过这样的话，“我的活儿就是我的脸面和人生”。我寻思他是否对着镜子正视过他那张被癌每天侵蚀、形容已毁的脸。无论活计多小，无论其他工匠看起来多么拙劣，这都不会影响他。这就是他的工作，他的工作必须尽职尽责完成。他从不搭眼看其他人做的活，别人干的蹩脚活与他毫无关系。不过，我猜想当活儿干完时，当他注意到自己的手艺是多么卓绝不凡时，他会由衷骄傲与欣喜，但他绝不会据此自吹自擂。
年复一年，他越来越虚弱，双手无法像人们描述的那样自信麻利地移动，许多活儿他都做不动了。但是，无论活大活小，报酬如何，他总是怀着义无反顾之心做得令人满意。
他的助手往往不能让他满意，而他们认为他性情古怪，苛求成就每个细节。为此，他独自一人工作。他没有抱怨，只是在次日清晨只身而来，对于助手缺席也不多言。
工作之余，他仅有一张扭曲怪异的脸。他把脸裹进红色手帕里，只露出眼睛来。街上相遇，他总是热情打招呼。随着时间的推移，他说话越来越困难。他往往动动手杖，这根手杖也是个精美物件，精美的刻工出自他这双灵巧的手。
他的生活似乎洋溢着满足平和的气氛。我想他感谢上帝赋予他这双灵巧的手，感谢上帝它们未曾受到任何损伤。
他常常几周或数月杳无音讯。他去医院找外科医生切除他脸部的其他一些部分。事后，你会重新看到他，他的面目更加狰狞。他没有怨言，也不提及他的手术和痛苦，只是默默地去做等候着他的工作。
他这一辈子，我从未见他回来对疼痛抱怨过。你会以为什么情况也没有，要是你没有看到他的脸的话。他的劳动时代似乎要结束了，他最担心的是他的工具能否落到能工巧匠之手。有一天他派人找来我，跟我说他希望有个赏识他这些工具的人能妥善使用它们。
我带了个年轻人去他那看那些工具时，他脸上露出了安然称心的神色。工作结束了，他等着收货款。他去世前几天总是在院子里散步，脸几乎完全被绷带覆盖，只有两只眼睛还露在外面。他在院子里蹒跚而行，说：“我要尽力保持年轻。”
他去世那天，我又去看望他。气味刺鼻难闻让人待不下去，他的脸只剩下一片疤痕，脸上也确实没有什么可以切除的了。你可以想到他所受的痛苦有多么巨大，他度过了多少不眠之夜，但他仍然没有留下任何抱怨的话。
我不会忘记他的临终遗言。甚至是后来在我想抱怨时，这些话总会让我羞愧不已。即便是经年累月，这些话仍然鲜活于我的脑海。
这些话就是：“上帝已经善待了我，我从来没有任何理由去抱怨。”
Climb Every Mountain in Life
I'm actually the first（and only）cancer survivor to summit the world's highest mountain,Mt. Everest.When I was only 13，I was diagnosed with Hodgkin's disease and given three months to live.When I was 15，I was diagnosed with Askin's tumor.The prognosis was much worse as the doctors gave me only two weeks to live.Again,I survived.
Being the only person in the world to have ever had these two cancers,I really felt I should share my story to help motivate others and influence lives. On May 16th，2002，at 9:32 a.m.，I became the first cancer survivor to summit Mt.Everest.
Since then,I have been lucky enough to reach the summits of three more of the world's seven highest peaks and have spoken internationally about my life and adventures to countless people and organizations. On the summit of Everest I brought a flag adorned with names of people who have been affected by cancer and left it on the top of the world forever,commemorating the struggle of cancer patients worldwide.
I did the same to the highest point in Africa,Europe and just recently returned from 23，000-foot Aconcagua in South America！My ultimate goal is to climb the highest mountain on each continent and trek to the North and South poles.
I am covering the globe with inspiration. There are plans for live chat shows during the expeditions as well as TV spots and live summit bids from a number of the mountains！The reason for these expeditions is to inspire those affected by cancer（as well as anyone with a pulse！）to dream big and never give up.
攀登人生的每一座山峰
我居然成为第一个也是唯一登顶世界最高峰——珠穆朗玛峰的癌症幸存者。13岁时，我被确诊患有霍奇金病（淋巴肉芽肿病），只剩下三个月的生命。15岁时，我被确诊患有阿斯金瘤。诊断结果更糟糕，医生说我只能活两个星期了。又一次，我存活了下来。
身为世界上唯一曾患过这两种癌症的人，我确实感到我应该分享自己的故事，来激励他人，影响他们的生活。2003年5月16日，清晨9点32分，我成为第一个登顶珠穆朗玛峰的癌症幸存者。
从那以后，我有幸登临了世界七座最高山峰中的三座峰顶，向世界无数人和组织讲述了有关我生活和探险的故事。在珠穆朗玛峰顶，我带上一面饰有曾经得过癌症的人名字的旗子，把它永远留在了世界的顶峰，以纪念世界各地癌症患者与癌症的抗争。
在非洲、欧洲，以及最近刚从那里返回的南美23000英尺（1英尺约合0.3米）的阿空加瓜山的最高峰上，我做了相同的事情！我的终极目标是攀登各洲的最高峰，徒步抵达北极和南极。
我满怀激情，足迹遍布全球。我计划在探险期间做现场访谈节目、电视直播节目以及现场登顶邀请！这些探险活动是为了鼓舞那些经受癌症磨难的人（还有那些一息尚存的人们）要敢于梦想，决不放弃！
What Goes around,Comes around
His name was Fleming,and he was a poor Scottish farmer.
One day,while trying to make a living for his family,he heard a cry for help coming from a nearby bog. He dropped his tools and ran to the bog.There,mired to his waist in black muck,was a terrified boy,screaming and struggling to free himself.Farmer Fleming saved the boy from what could have been a slow and terrifying death.
The next day,a fancy carriage pulled up to the Scotsman's sparse surroundings. An elegantly dressed nobleman stepped out and introduced himself as the father of the boy Farmer Fleming had saved.
“I want to repay you，”said the nobleman.“You saved my son's life.”
“No,I can't accept payment for what I did，”the Scottish farmer replied,declining the offer.
At that moment,the farmer's own son came to the door of the family hovel.“Is that your son?”the nobleman asked.
“Yes，”the farmer replied proudly.
“I'll make you a deal. Let me provide him with the level of education my own son will enjoy.If the lad is anything like his father,he'll no doubt grow to be a man we both will be proud of.”
And that he did. Farmer Fleming's son attended the very best schools and in time,he graduated from St.Mary's Hospital Medical School in London,and went on to become known throughout the world as the noted Sir Alexander Fleming,the discoverer of Penicillin.
Years afterward,the same nobleman's son who was saved from the bog was stricken with pneumonia. What saved his life this time?Penicillin.
The name of the nobleman?Lord Randolph Churchill.
His son's name?Sir Winston Churchill.
付出终有回报
他叫弗莱明，是个贫苦的苏格兰农夫。
一天，弗莱明正为一家人的生计努力劳作时，听到附近沼泽地里传来呼救的声音。他扔下农具，奔向沼泽地。黑乎乎的烂泥已没到了腰部，是一个受惊的男孩，他尖叫着、挣扎着想挣脱出来。农夫弗莱明把这个男孩从一场缓慢煎熬、恐怖窒息的死亡中拯救了出来。
第二天，一辆豪华马车驶入这个苏格兰男人那片荒凉的土地。一位穿着雅致的贵族步下车来，介绍自己是农夫弗莱明救的那个男孩的父亲。
“我想报答你，”贵族说，“你挽救了我儿子的性命。”
“不，我不能因为我做的事情而接受报酬。”这个苏格兰农夫回答，谢绝了好意。
就在此时，农夫自己的儿子从一家人居住的小屋里出来了。“这是你的儿子吗？”贵族问道。
“是的。”农夫骄傲地回答。
“我向你提一个建议。请让我为他提供我儿子将会享受的教育水准。如果这个小家伙能像他父亲一样品德高尚，他肯定会成长为我们都会为之骄傲的男人。”
他兑现了承诺。农夫弗莱明的儿子在各个一流的学校就读，按时从伦敦圣玛丽医学院毕业，继而享誉全球，成为著名的亚历山大·弗莱明爵士——盘尼西林的发现者。
数年后，还是那个被人从沼泽里救下的贵族的儿子患上了肺炎。这次是什么挽救了他的性命呢？盘尼西林。
这个贵族的名字是？伦道夫·丘吉尔勋爵。
他的儿子呢？是温斯顿·丘吉尔爵士。
Father’s White Ribbons
On a train to Smithville,a man happened to sit down next to the young man no more than 17 years old. Because the boy was tense,the man wondered what could be worrying him.Whatever it was,the boy's tension was clear.
The boy kept staring out of the window,paying no attention to anyone else on the train. The man opened up a book and started reading.Now and then,he would look up and see the boy's face pressed against the window.He sensed that the boy was fighting to keep from crying.This was how they traveled through the night—the man attempting to read and the boy staring out of the window.
Finally,the boy asked the man，“Do you know what time it is?And do you know when we are to arrive at Smithville?”
The man gave the boy the time,and went on to say，“Smithville,that's a very small town,isn't it?I didn't know the train stopped there.”“It usually doesn't，”said the boy，“But they said that they would stop there for me so that I could get off—If I decide to. I used to live there.”
The boy returned to the window and the man to his book. It was quite a while before conversation began once again.But when it did,the boy told the man the whole story of his life.“Four years ago，”he said，“I did something very bad,so bad that I had to run away from home.I couldn't face my father.So I left without even saying goodbye to him.Since then,I have worked here and there.I never stayed very long in one place.I've been pretty lonely.Until finally,I decided that I want to go back to my father's house.”
The man went on to ask，“Does your father know you're coming?And the boy responded，“He knows I'm coming,but I don't know if he will be there. I sent him a letter.I didn't know if he would still want me back.I wasn't sure if he would forgive me.So in my letter,I said that I would come home if he wanted me to.I told him that if he wanted me to come home,he could put a sign on a tree which is a few hundred yards before the railroad station in Smithville.I told him that I would look for a white ribbon on one of the branches of that tree as the train passes.If there is a white ribbon on the tree,then I’ll get off.If not,then I’ll just keep on riding to wherever this train goes.”
The two of them were now waiting for Smithville. Suddenly,the boy asked，“Will you do me a favor?Will you please look for me?I'm scared to look for that ribbon on the tree.”Now involved,the man agreed and took a turn staring out the window for a ribbon on a tree.
A few moments later,the conductor came down the aisle and called out，“Next stop—Smithville.”The boy could not move. The man,however,looked as hard as could.And then he saw it！He shouted so loud that all the people in the train turned around.“It's there！Look！The tree is covered with white ribbons！Not just one—there's a whole bunch！”
The father had every reason not to put up a white ribbon—and yet he did. Only a father whose love is real could blanket the tree with white ribbons,each one of them proclaiming reconciliation.
父亲的白丝带
在驶往史密斯维尔的列车上，一位男士碰巧在一个不满17岁的年轻小伙旁边坐下来。男孩紧张不安，男士不知道是什么使他焦虑不安。无论是什么，男孩的紧张显而易见。
男孩一直盯着窗外，对列车上其他人毫不关注。男士打开本书开始阅读。时不时地，他会抬起头看看男孩紧贴在窗户上的脸。他感到男孩正在努力忍着不哭出来。他们就是这样彻夜旅行的——男士试图阅读，男孩则注视着窗外。
后来，男孩问男士：“你知道几点了吗？你知不知道我们什么时候能到史密斯维尔呢？”
男士告诉男孩时间，继续说道：“史密斯维尔，那是个很小的城镇，是吗？我不知道列车会在那儿停。”“一般不停，”男孩说，“可是，他们说他们会为我在那儿停车，这样我就能下去了——如果我决定的话。我过去住那里。”
男孩转向窗户，男士继续看书，过了好一会儿才又开始交谈。但话题一开，男孩给男士讲述了他全部的生活。“四年前，”他说，“我干了些很糟糕的事情，实在是太糟糕了，我只能逃离家乡，无法面对父亲。因此，我甚至都没有跟他道别就离开了。从那以后，我到处干活，从来没有在一个地方待很久。我非常孤独，直到后来，我决定要返回父亲的家。”
男士接着问道：“你父亲知道你来了吗？”男孩答道：“他知道我来了，但我不知道他会不会在那里，我托人给他捎了封信，我不知道他是否还愿意我回来，我也不确定他会不会原谅我。所以，在信里，我说我会回家，如果他想让我回来，他可以在史密斯维尔列车站台前一百码外的一棵树上做个标记。我告诉他火车经过时我会在那棵树的枝头寻找一条白色丝带。如果树上有白丝带，我就下车。如果没有，我就继续乘车到这列火车驶往的任何地方。”
他们两个现在等待着史密斯维尔。突然，男孩问道：“您能帮我个忙吗？您能帮我找找吗？我不敢在树上寻找丝带。”已经牵连进来，男士答应下来，两人轮流盯着窗外寻找树上的丝带。
过了一会儿，乘务员走下过道喊道：“下一站——史密斯维尔。”男孩动弹不得。那个男士仍然尽力寻找着。接着，他看到了！他声音那么高，列车里所有的人都转过头来。“在那里！瞧！那棵树满是白色丝带！不仅是一条——满枝都是！”
那位父亲有足够的理由不去挂白丝带——但他挂了。只有胸怀真爱的父亲才会用白丝带将树覆盖，每条白丝带都表达了和解之意。
The Secret of the Outer Ears
“Can I see my baby?”the happy new mother asked. When the bundle was nestled in her arms and she moved the fold of cloth to look upon his tiny face,she gasped.The doctor turned quickly and looked out the tall hospital window.The baby had been born without ears.Time proved that the baby's hearing was perfect.It was only his appearance that was marred.
When he rushed home from school one day and flung himself into his mother's arms,she sighed,knowing that his life was to be a succession of heartbreak.
He blurted out，“A boy,a big boy……called me a freak.”He grew up,handsome for his misfortune. A favorite with his classmates,he might have been class president,but for that.He developed a gift,a talent for literature and music.“But you might mingle with other young people，”his mother reproved him,but felt a kindness in her heart.
The boy's father talked with the family physician. Could nothing be done?“I believe I could graft on a pair of outer ears,if we could get them，”the doctor decided.So the search began for a person who would make such a sacrifice for a young man.Two years went by.Then，“You are going to the hospital,son.Mother and I have someone who will donate the ears you need.But it's a secret，”said the father.
The operation was a brilliant success,and a new person appeared. His talents blossomed into genius,and school and college became a series of success.Later he married and entered the diplomatic service.“But I must know！”He urged his father.“Who gave so much for me?I could never do enough for him.”
“I do not believe you could，”said the father，“but the agreement was that you are not to know……not yet.”The years kept their secret,but the day did come……one of the darkest days that ever passed through a son. He stood with his father over his mother's casket.Slowly,tenderly,the father stretch forth a hand and raised the thick,reddish-brown hair to reveal the mother had no outer ears.
“Mother said she was glad she never let her hair be cut，”he whispered gently，“and nobody ever thought mother less beautiful,did they?”
外耳的秘密
“我能看看宝宝吗？”一位满心欢喜的新妈妈询问，包裹被她环抱在双臂里，她拨开折在一起的包布，抬眼瞧他那娇小的脸庞，一下子屏住了呼吸。医生迅速转过头，从医院高大的窗户外望出去。这个婴儿生下来就没有耳朵。后来证明婴儿的听力完好，仅仅是他的相貌受到了损伤。
一天，他从学校飞奔回家，一头扑进母亲的怀里。她叹了口气，明白他的一生会心碎不断。
他脱口而出：“一个男孩，一个大男孩……叫我畸形。”他长大了，他因自己的不幸而慷慨无私。他受同学喜爱，要不是因为那个缺陷，他本可以成为班长。他显示出了天赋，对文学和音乐的才能。“可你有可能和其他年轻人混在一起。”他母亲责备他，但她是一片好心。
男孩的父亲与家庭医生商讨。难道什么也做不了吗？“我想我能移植上一对外耳，如果我们能得到的话。”医生做出决定。于是他们开始搜寻一个能为一个年轻人做此捐献的人。两年过去了。“你要去医院，儿子。妈妈和我已经找到为你捐献耳朵的人了，但这个人是保密的。”父亲说。
手术非常成功，一个崭新的人出现了。他的才能脱颖而出，他在中学和大学不断成功。后来他结婚了，进入外交部门工作。“但我必须知道！”他敦促父亲，“谁为我付出这么多？我永远都报答不了他。”
“我想你不能，”父亲说，“但约定规定你不能知道……还不能。”岁月尘封了这个秘密，但这一天还是到来了……这是儿子经历的最黑暗的那几天中的一天。他和父亲站在母亲的棺椁旁，缓缓地，父亲轻柔地伸出一只手，撩开赭红色的浓密头发，揭开母亲早已没有了外耳的秘密。
“妈妈说她很高兴从没剪掉过自己的头发，”他柔声低语道，“而且也没有人认为妈妈不漂亮，是吗？”
The Only Memory That Lingers
I have many memories about my father and about growing up with him in our apartment next to the elevated train tracks. For 20 years,we listened to the roar of the train as it passed by his bedroom window.Late at night,he waited alone on the tracks for the train that took him to his job at a factory,where he worked the midnight shift.
On this particular night,I waited with him in the dark to say good-bye. His face was grim.His youngest son had been drafted.I would be sworn in at six the next morning,while he stood at his paper-cutting machine in the factory.
My father had talked about his anger. He didn't want them to take his child,only 19 years old,who had never had a drink or smoked a cigarette,to fight a war in Europe.He placed his hands on my slim shoulders.“You should be careful,Srulic,and if you ever need anything,write to me and I'll see that you get it.”
Suddenly,he heard the roar of the approaching train. He held me tightly in his arms and gently kissed me on the cheek.With tear-filled eyes,he murmured，“I love you,my son.”Then the train arrived,the doors closed him inside,and he disappeared into the night.
One month later,at age 46，my father died. I am 76 as I sit and write this.I once heard Pete Hamill,the New York reporter,say that memories are man's greatest inheritage and I have to agree.I've lived through four invasions in World War II.I've had a life full of all kinds of experiences.But the only memory that lingers is of the night when my dad said，“I love you,my son.”
萦绕心间的唯一记忆
我有许多回忆是有关父亲和我在我们临近高架轻轨的公寓里那段日子的。20年里，我们听着列车经过他卧室窗口时的轰鸣声。深夜，他独自一人在轻轨上等待那列载他去工厂上班的列车，因为他在那里上零点班。
在那个特殊的夜晚，我与他在黑暗中一起等候着道别的时刻。他的脸色阴沉，他最小的儿子被征入伍。第二天早晨六点钟，我将被宣布入伍，而他却站在工厂自己那台切纸机前。
父亲曾表达过他的愤怒。他不愿让他们带走自己的孩子，让那个才19岁，还从未喝过酒抽过烟的孩子去欧洲打仗。他把手放在我单薄的双肩上。“你要小心，斯鲁里克，要是你需要什么的话，写信给我，我保证你会得到的。”
突然，他听到了列车驶来的轰鸣声，紧紧把我抱在怀里，温柔地亲吻我的脸颊，眼含着泪水，低声地说：“我爱你，我的儿子。”接着，列车就到了，列车门把他关在里面，他消失在夜色中。
一个月后，46岁的父亲去世了。如今，76岁的我坐着写下这些。我曾听《纽约时报》记者皮特·哈米尔说记忆中的往事是男人最宝贵的遗产，我必须认同。我在第二次世界大战中经历了四次侵略战争，我的一生饱经风霜。但是，萦绕在我心间的回忆只有父亲说“我爱你，我的儿子”的那个夜晚。
The Legacy
When my husband,Bob,died very suddenly in January 1994，I received condolences from people I hadn't heard from in years：letters,cards,flowers,visits. I was overwhelmed with grief,yet uplifted by this outpouring of love from family,friends and even mere acquaintances.
One message touched me profoundly. I received a letter from my best friend from sixth grade through high school.We had drifted apart since graduation in 1949，as she stayed in our home town and I had not.But it was the kind of friendship that could quickly resume even if we lost touch for five or ten years.
Her husband,Pete,had died perhaps 20 years ago at a young age,leaving her with deep sorrow and heavy responsibilities：finding a job and raising three young children. She and Pete,like Bob and I,had shared one of those rare,close and“love-of-your-life-you-can-never-forget”relationships.
In her letter she shared an anecdote about my mother（now long deceased）. She wrote，“When Pete died,your dear mother hugged me and said，‘Trudy,I don't know what to say……So I'll just say I love you.'”
She closed her letter to me repeating my mother's words of so long ago，“Bonnie,I don't know what to say……So I'll just say I love you.”
I felt I could almost hear my mother speaking to me now. What a powerful message of sympathy！How dear of my friend to cherish it all those years and then pass it on to me.I love you—perfect words,a gift,a legacy.
隔世的馈赠
1994年1月，我的丈夫鲍勃突然去世。我收到多年没有书信往来的人们的吊唁：书信、卡片、鲜花、拜访。我悲痛欲绝，而这来自家人、朋友，甚至是泛泛之交对我倾注的爱使我振作了起来。
有一个问候深深触动了我。我收到中学六年级我最好朋友的一封信。我们从1949年毕业开始渐渐疏远，因为她留在了我们家乡，而我却没有。但是，我们的友谊正是那种能够迅速恢复的友谊，不论我们失去联系已是五年还是十载。
她的丈夫皮特大概20年前年纪轻轻就去世了，留给她深深的悲痛和沉重的负担：找工作还要抚养三个年幼的孩子。她和皮特，跟鲍勃和我一样，拥有的是一份那种珍贵亲密、永世难忘的爱情。
信中，她告诉我一段有关我母亲的故事，我母亲现在早已不在了。她写道：“皮特去世时，你善良的妈妈抱着我说：‘特鲁迪，我不知道该说些什么……那我就说句我爱你吧。’”
她在信的结尾处不停重复我母亲很久以前说的话：“特鲁迪，我不知道该说些什么……那我就说句我爱你吧。”
我觉得我几乎能够听到母亲此时此刻正在对我讲话。这是多么富有同情心的问候啊！我的朋友是多么善良，她将这句话珍藏这么多年，然后将它传递给我。我爱你——这至善至美的言语，是一份礼物，是一份隔世的馈赠。
Perseverance
“Will you give my kite a lift?”said my little nephew to his sister,after trying in vain to make it fly by dragging it along the ground. Lucy very kindly took it up and threw it into the air,but,her brother neglecting to run off at the same moment,the kite fell down again.
“Ah！now,how awkward you are！”said the little fellow.“It was your fault entirely，”answered his sister.“Try again,children，”said I.
Lucy once more took up the kite. But now John was in too great a hurry；he ran off so suddenly that he twitched the kite out of her hand,and it fell flat as before.“Well,who is to blame now?”asked Lucy.“Try again，”said I.
They did,and with more care；but a side wind coming suddenly,as Lucy let go the kite,it was blown against some shrubs,and the tail became entangled in a moment,leaving the poor kite hanging with its head downward.
“There,there！”exclaimed John，“that comes of your throwing it all to one side.”“As if I could make the wind blow straight，”said Lucy. In the meantime,I went to the kite's assistance；and having disengaged the long tail,I rolled it up,saying，“Come,children,there are too many trees here；let us find a more open space,and then try again.”
We presently found a nice grassplot,at one side of which I took my stand；and all things being prepared,I tossed the kite up just as little John ran off. It rose with all the dignity of a balloon,and promised a lofty flight；but John,delighted to find it pulling so hard at the string,stopped short to look upward and admire.The string slackened,the kite wavered,and,the wind not being very favorable,down came the kite to the grass.“O John,you should not have stopped，”said I.“However,try again.”
“I won't try any more，”replied he,rather sullenly.“It is of no use,you see. The kite won't fly,and I don't want to be plagued with it any longer.”“Oh,fie,my little man！would you give up the sport,after all the pains we have taken both to make and to fly the kite?A few disappointments ought not to discourage us.Come,I have wound up your string,and now try again.”
And he did try,and succeeded,for the kite was carried upward on the breeze as lightly as a feather；and when the string was all out,John stood in great delight,holding fast the stick and gazing on the kite,which now seemed like a little white speck in the blue sky.“Look,look,aunt,how high it flies！and it pulls like a team of horses,so that I can hardly hold it. I wish I had a mile of string：I am sure it would go to the end of it.”
After enjoying the sight as long as he pleased,little John proceeded to roll up the string slowly；and when the kite fell,he took it up with great glee,saying that it was not at all hurt,and that it had behaved very well.“Shall we come out to-morrow,aunt,after lessons,and try again?”
“I have no objection,my dear,if the weather is fine. And now,as we walk home,tell me what you have learned from your morning's sport.”“I have learned to fly my kite properly.”“You may thank aunt for it,brother，”said Lucy，“for you would have given it up long ago,if she had not persuaded you to try again.”
“Yes,dear children,I wish to teach you the value of perseverance,even when nothing more depends upon it than the flying of a kite. Whenever you fail in your attempts to do any good thing,let your motto be，—try again.”
坚持不懈
“你能帮我放风筝吗？”我的小侄子对他姐姐说，他在之前把风筝拖在地上，试过好几次，可每一次都失败了。好心的露西把掉在地上的风筝捡起来，把它抛向空中，但是她的弟弟配合得不好，他并没有跟风筝同时跑出去，结果风筝又掉了下来。
“哎呀！你真笨！”小家伙说。“这完全是你的错。”他姐姐反驳道。我说：“孩子们，再试一次。”
于是，露西再一次捡起掉在地上的风筝。但是，约翰太急了，他跑得太突然，结果风筝还是和刚才一样，一头栽在了地上。“看看吧！这到底是谁的错？”露西说。“再试一次。”我说。
他们又试了一次，而且更谨慎了，但是，就在露西抛出风筝的时候，刮来一阵大风，把风筝吹到灌木丛中去了，风筝的尾巴缠在一起，可怜的风筝头朝下挂在了那里。
“哎呀！哎呀！”约翰大叫道，“你到底会不会放啊！”“我又不能决定风的方向！”露西说。与此同时，我决定帮助他们。我把缠在风筝上的线解掉，对他们说：“孩子们，这里的树太多了，我们不妨找一个空旷的地方，然后再试一次。”
我们来到一片广阔的草地，我手里拿着风筝，一切准备就绪，当小约翰跑出去之后，我迅速抛起风筝。只见风筝像气球一样飞上了天，似乎能飞成功。但是，当约翰高兴地发现他拉紧了风筝线时，他停下来抬头朝天上看。风筝线松了，风筝在摇晃，由于风速不够，风筝又掉到了草地上。“啊！约翰，你不应该停下来。”我说，“我们再试一次！”
“我不想再试了，”约翰耷拉着脸说，“再怎么试也没用，你都看见了，无论怎么试，风筝就是飞不起来，况且我累了，不想再试了。”“噢！我的好孩子，我们克服重重困难，为的就是把风筝放上天，你要在这个关头放弃吗？我们不能因为几次小小的失败就垂头丧气。快过来，我帮你把风筝线绑上，现在再试一次。”
他再试了一次，这回成功了，风筝飞在天上，看起来就像羽毛一样轻。当风筝线完全放完之后，约翰高兴地站在那儿，紧握线柄，看着风筝，风筝已经成为蓝天中的一个小白点。“看呀！看呀！姑妈，看它飞得多高啊！它拉风筝线的劲头可真足，我快拽不住了，我希望有一英里（1英里约合1.6千米）的风筝线，我保证也能用完。”
约翰玩得尽兴之后，开始缓慢地往回收风筝线。当风筝落到地上时，他欢快地把风筝捡起来，说风筝没有破损，而且风筝刚才飞得棒极了。约翰说：“姑妈，明天放学之后，我们还能出来放风筝吗？”
“亲爱的孩子，我不反对，只要天气好就行。现在，我们该回家了。告诉我，你从今天早上的运动中学到了什么？”“我学会了如何放风筝。”约翰说。“你应该感谢姑妈，”露西说，“要不是姑妈劝你再试一次，你早就放弃了。”
“对，孩子们，我希望教会你们做事情坚持不懈，尽管有些事情不需要像放风筝这样的坚持。任何时候，尝试做任何事情失败了，都不要气馁，只需记住一句座右铭——再试一次！”
Harry’s Riches
One day,our little Harry spent the morning with his young playmate,Johnny Crane,who lived in a fine house,and on Sundays rode to church in the grandest carriage to be seen in all the country round.
When Harry returned home,he said，“Mother,Johnny has money in both pockets！”
“Has he,dear?”
“Yes,ma'am；and he says he could get ever so much more if he wanted it.”
“Well,now,that's very pleasant for him，”I returned,cheerfully,as a reply was plainly expected.“Very pleasant；don't you think so?”
“Yes,ma'am；only—”
“Only what,Harry?”
“Why,he has a big popgun,and a watch,and a hobbyhorse,and lots of things.”And Harry looked up at my face with a disconsolate stare.
“Well,my boy,what of that?”
“Nothing,mother，”and the telltale tears sprang to his eyes，“only I guess we are very poor,aren't we?”
“No,indeed,Harry,we are very far from being poor. We are not so rich as Mr.Crane's family,if that is what you mean.”
“O mother！”insisted the little fellow，“I do think we are very poor；anyhow,I am！”
“O Harry！”I exclaimed,reproachfully.
“Yes,ma'am I am，”he sobbed；“I have scarcely any thing—I mean anything that's worth money—except things to eat and wear,and I'd have to have them anyway.”
“Have to have them?”I echoed,at the same time laying my sewing upon the table,so that I might reason with him on that point；“do you not know,my son—”
Just then Uncle Ben looked up from the paper he had been reading：“Harry，”said he，“I want to find out something about eyes；so,if you will let me have yours,I will give you a dollar apiece for them.”
“For my eyes！”exclaimed Harry,very much astonished.
“Yes，”resumed Uncle Ben,quietly，“for your eyes. I will give you chloroform,so it will not hurt you in the least,and you shall have a beautiful glass pair for nothing,to wear in their place.Come,a dollar apiece,cash down！What do you say?I will take them out as quick as a wink.”
“Give you my eyes,uncle！”cried Harry,looking wild at the very thought，“I think not.”And the startled little fellow shook his head defiantly.
“Well,five,ten,twenty dollars,then.”Harry shook his head at every offer.
“No,sir！I wouldn't let you have them for a thousand dollars！What could I do without my eyes?I couldn't see mother,nor the baby,nor the flowers,nor the horses,nor anything，”added Harry,growing warmer and warmer.
“I will give you two thousand，”urged Uncle Ben,taking a roll of bank notes out of his pocket. Harry,standing at a respectful distance,shouted that he never would do any such thing.
“Very well，”continued the uncle,with a serious air,at the same time writing something in his notebook，“I can't afford to give you more than two thousand dollars,so I shall have to do without your eyes；but，”he added，“I will tell you what I will do,I will give you twenty dollars if you will let me put a few drops from this bottle in your ears. It will not hurt,but it will make you deaf.I want to try some experiments with deafness,you see.Come quickly,now！Here are the twenty dollars all ready for you.”
“Make me deaf！”shouted Harry,without even looking at the gold pieces temptingly displayed upon the table.“I guess you will not do that,either. Why,I couldn't hear a single word if I were deaf,could I?”
“Probably not，”replied Uncle Ben. So,of course,Harry refused again.He would never give up his hearing,he said，“no,not for three thousand dollars.”
Uncle Ben made another note in his book,and then came out with large bids for“a right arm，”then“left arm，”“hands，”“feet，”“nose，”finally ending with an offer of ten thousand dollars for“mother，”and five thousand for“the baby.”
To all of these offers Harry shook his head,his eyes flashing,and exclamations of surprise and indignation bursting from his lips. At last,Uncle Ben said he must give up his experiments,for Harry's prices were entirely too high.
“Ha！ha！”laughed the boy,exultingly,and he folded his dimpled arms and looked as if to say，“I'd like to see the man who could pay them！”
“Why,Harry,look here！”exclaimed Uncle Ben,peeping into his notebook，“here is a big addition sum,I tell you！”He added the numbers,and they amounted to thirty-two thousand dollars.
“There,Harry，”said Uncle Ben，“don't you think you are foolish not to accept some of my offers?”“No,sir,I don't，”answered Harry,resolutely.“Then，”said Uncle Ben，“you talk of being poor,and by your own showing you have treasures for which you will not take thirty-two thousand dollars. What do you say to that?”
Harry didn't know exactly what to say. So he blushed for a second,and just then tears came rolling down his cheeks,and he threw his chubby arms around my neck.“Mother，”he whispered，“isn't God good to make everybody so rich?”
哈利的财富
一天，小哈利和他的伙伴约翰尼·克莱恩一起玩了一上午。约翰尼住在一幢漂亮的大房子里，星期天他总会坐着气派的马车去教堂，全镇的人都能看见。
哈利回到家后说：“妈妈，约翰尼的两个口袋里都有钱。”
“是吗，亲爱的？”
“是的，妈妈。他还说，只要他想要，他还可以有更多的钱。”
“噢，是吗？那很好。”妈妈随便回答说，“非常好，你说呢？”
“是的，妈妈，可是——”
“可是什么，哈利？”
“为什么他有一把大大的玩具枪、一块手表、一个木马，还有好多好多东西？”哈利抬起头闷闷不乐地看着妈妈。
“怎么了，我的孩子？”
“没什么，妈妈。”可此时泄露秘密的眼泪涌了出来，“只是，我想我们很穷，对吗？”
“不，不是的，哈利，我们并不穷，但我们也不像克莱恩家里那样富有，如果这就是你所说的穷的话。”
“噢，妈妈，”小家伙还在难过，“我还是觉得我们很穷，不管怎么样，我很穷。”
“哈利！”妈妈带着责备的口气说。
“是的，妈妈，我就是太穷，”他抽泣着，“我几乎什么都没有——我指那些值钱的东西——除了吃的和穿的，那些必须拥有的东西我都没有。”
“必须拥有的东西？”妈妈重复着他的话，把手中的织物放在桌上，这样她可以就这个问题和哈利好好谈谈，“你不知道吗，我的孩子——”
就在这时，正在读报纸的本叔叔抬起头来，“哈利，”他说，“我想研究一下人的眼睛，如果你愿意给我你的眼睛，那么我会给你2美元。”
“要我的眼睛？”哈利大声喊道，他对此很是吃惊。
“是的，”本叔叔平静地说，“要你的眼睛。我可以给你麻醉，这样你就不会感到疼了，你可以戴一对漂亮的玻璃眼球。快点，一美元一只，否则要降价了。你觉得怎么样？我会很快把它们取出来的。”
“给你我的眼睛，叔叔？”哈利像是无法相信自己的耳朵，“我想不行。”
受惊的小家伙坚决地摇着头。
“那么，5美元、10美元、20美元，怎么样？”每一次哈利都不停地摇着头。
“不，先生，就算你给100美元，我也不会让你取走我的眼睛。没有了眼睛我怎么办？我将不会再看见妈妈，看不见小孩，看不见花，也看不见马了，什么也看不见了。”哈利说着，越来越激动。
“我给你2000美元。”本叔叔继续说，并从口袋里掏出一叠钱。哈利站得远远的，他永远不会做这样的事情。
“那么，好吧。”本叔叔说。此时，他的表情十分严肃，一边在本子上写着什么，一边说：“我不能给你高过2000美元的价格，所以，我只能放弃你的眼睛了。但是，”他又说，“我要告诉你我还会怎么做，如果你让我把这瓶子里的东西滴几滴到你的耳朵里的话，我会给你20美元。你并不会感觉到疼，但会让你变聋。你知道，我想做一个关于耳聋的实验。快，现在就做决定吧，这20美元是给你的。”
“会让我变聋！”哈利已经快气疯了，他看也不看放在桌上的钱，大声喊道：“我想你不会那样做的，如果我聋了，我就再也听不见了，不是吗？”
“可能吧。”本叔叔说。当然了，哈利还是拒绝了，他说：“不，哪怕给我3000美元，我也不答应。”
本叔叔在本子上又记下了一条。之后，他又出更多的钱要“哈利的右手”，然后是“左手”“双手”“双脚”“鼻子”，最后出价10万要他的“妈妈”，5000美元要“小孩”。
哈利拒绝了所有的建议，他的眼睛闪着光，不停地表达着自己的震惊和愤怒。最后本叔叔说他必须放弃他的实验，因为哈利的价格实在太高了。
“哈哈！”哈利高兴地笑了，他架着胳膊，似乎在说：“我倒要看看谁能买得起！”
“来，哈利，看这儿！”本叔叔看着笔记本里的东西，“这儿有一大笔钱呢！”他把所有的数目加起来，一共是32000美元。
“现在，哈利，”本叔叔说，“你不觉得放弃这么一大笔钱太愚蠢了吗？”
“不，先生，我不要。”哈利坚决地说。
“那么，”本叔叔说，“你说你很穷，但又不肯拿你所有的东西来换取32000美元，这是为什么呢？”
哈利不知道怎么回答，他涨红了脸，泪水顺着脸颊流了下来，他用胖乎乎的手搂着妈妈的脖子。“妈妈，”他在妈妈的耳旁轻声说，“上帝实在太好了，他让我们每个人都那么富有。”
Harry and his Dog
“Beg,Frisk,beg，”said little Harry,as he sat on an inverted basket,at his grandmother's door,eating,with great satisfaction,a porringer of bread and milk. His little sister Annie,who had already dispatched her breakfast,sat on the ground opposite to him,now twisting her flowers into garlands,and now throwing them away.
“Beg,Frisk,beg！”repeated Harry,holding a bit of bread just out of the dog's reach；and the obedient Frisk squatted himself on his hind legs,and held up his fore paws,waiting for master Harry to give him the tempting morsel.
The little boy and the little dog were great friends. Frisk loved him dearly,much better than he did anyone else；perhaps,because he recollected that Harry was his earliest and firmest friend during a time of great trouble.
Poor Frisk had come as a stray dog to Milton,the place where Harry lived. If he could have told his own story,it would probably have been a very pitiful one,of kicks and cuffs,of hunger and foul weather.
Certain it is,he made his appearance at the very door where Harry was now sitting,in miserable plight,wet,dirty,and half starved；and that there he met Harry,who took a fancy to him,and Harry's grandmother,who drove him off with a broom.
Harry,at length,obtained permission for the little dog to remain as a sort of outdoor pensioner,and fed him with stray bones and cold potatoes,and such things as he could get for him. He also provided him with a little basket to sleep in,the very same which,turned up,afterward served Harry for a seat.
After a while,having proved his good qualities by barking away a set of pilferers,who were making an attack on the great pear tree,he was admitted into the house,and became one of its most vigilant and valued inmates. He could fetch or carry either by land or water；would pick up a thimble or a ball of cotton,if little Annie should happen to drop them；or take Harry's dinner to school for him with perfect honesty.
“Beg,Frisk,beg！”said Harry,and gave him,after long waiting,the expected morsel. Frisk was satisfied,but Harry was not.The little boy,though a good-humored fellow in the main,had turns of naughtiness,which were apt to last him all day,and this promised to prove one of his worst.It was a holiday,and in the afternoon his cousins,Jane and William,were to come and see him and Annie；and the pears were to be gathered,and the children were to have a treat.
Harry,in his impatience,thought the morning would never be over. He played such pranks—buffeting Frisk,cutting the curls off of Annie's doll,and finally breaking his grandmother's spectacles—that before his visitors arrived,indeed,almost immediately after dinner,he contrived to be sent to bed in disgrace.
Poor Harry！there he lay,rolling and kicking,while Jane,and William,and Annie were busy about the fine,mellow Windsor pears. William was up in the tree,gathering and shaking；Annie and Jane catching them in their aprons,and picking them up from the ground；now piling them in baskets,and now eating the nicest and ripest；while Frisk was barking gayly among them,as if he were catching Windsor pears,too！
Poor Harry！He could hear all this glee and merriment through the open window as he lay in bed. The storm of passion having subsided,there he lay weeping and disconsolate,a grievous sob bursting forth every now and then,as he heard the loud peals of childish laughter,and as he thought how he should have laughed,and how happy he should have been,had he not forfeited all this pleasure by his own bad conduct.
He wondered if Annie would not be so good-natured as to bring him a pear. All on a sudden,he heard a little foot on the stair,pitapat,and he thought she was coming.Pitapat came the foot,nearer and nearer,and at last a small head peeped,half afraid,through the half-open door.
But it was not Annie's head；it was Frisk's—poor Frisk,whom Harry had been teasing and tormenting all the morning,and who came into the room wagging his tail,with a great pear in his mouth；and,jumping upon the bed,He laid it in the little boy's hand.
Is not Frisk a fine,grateful fellow?and does he not deserve a share of Harry's breakfast,whether he begs for it or not?And little Harry will remember from the events of this day that kindness,even though shown to a dog,will always be rewarded；and that ill nature and bad temper are connected with nothing but pain and disgrace.
哈利和他的狗
“作揖，弗里斯克，作揖！”小哈利说，他坐在奶奶门前一个倒扣着的篮子上，心满意足地吃着面包和牛奶。他的妹妹安妮坐在他对面的地上，她把花朵编成花环，然后再扔掉。
“作揖，弗里斯克，作揖！”哈利重复道，他在离狗不远的地方拿了一小块面包，听话的弗里斯克后腿蹲下来，举起前爪，等待主人哈利给它一顿诱人的美餐。
小男孩和小狗是好朋友。弗里斯克十分喜欢哈利，并且比任何人对他都好，也许，因为当它回忆起自己深陷困境的时候，只有哈利是它最坚定的朋友。
可怜的弗里斯克是作为一只流浪狗来到哈利住的米尔顿的。如果它能有机会讲述自己的故事，那么这一定是关于被殴打、忍受饥饿和恶劣天气的悲惨故事。
可以肯定的是，它就在哈利现在坐的位置，出现在他的眼前。它那时处境悲惨，全身潮湿、肮脏并且处于半饥饿的状态，它正是在这里遇到了哈利，哈利很喜欢它，但是哈利的奶奶却用扫帚轰它走。
最后，哈利获得家人的许可，让弗里斯克在家门口住下，并且用吃剩的骨头、凉土豆和他能弄到的其他食物喂它。他给弗里斯克准备了一个睡觉的小篮子，就是现在哈利倒扣着当椅子的篮子。
过了一段时间，小狗用吼叫赶跑了那些上树偷梨的小偷，以此证明它是一条好狗。当它被准许进入哈利的家之后，弗里斯克便成为家里最警觉、最有价值的伙伴。它会跑很多路去拿东西或送东西；如果小安妮不小心弄掉顶针或棉花球的话，它会叼起来，或者忠诚地去学校给哈利送饭。
“作揖，弗里斯克，作揖！”哈利说经过漫长的等待之后，它如愿以偿地得到了那顿大餐。弗里斯克感到很满意，但哈利却没有。这个小男孩尽管是个好脾气的人，但是他也很顽皮，有时他可能一整天都这样，并且希望证明这是他最坏的一方面。在假期的一天下午，表妹简和表弟威廉来他家做客，他和安妮把梨拿出来款待这两个孩子。
哈利不耐烦地想，今天的早晨太漫长了，于是他便做了一些恶作剧——殴打弗里斯克、把安妮的洋娃娃的卷发剪下来，最后打坏了奶奶的眼镜。在他的客人到来之前，事实上，他是在吃过晚饭之后，被毫无颜面地赶回自己卧室的。
可怜的哈利！他躺在那里，又滚又踢，而简、威廉和安妮则忙着采摘熟透的温莎梨。威廉爬到树上采摘和摇晃，安妮和简用她们的裙子接住被摇下来的梨，并把地上的梨捡起来，放进篮子里；她们现在吃到的梨都是最好、最熟的，而弗里斯克在他们中间欢快地叫着，好像它也捡到了温莎梨！
可怜的哈利！他躺在床上，透过开着的窗户，他可以听到他们的欢声笑语。当他们的欢笑消失之后，哈利开始躺在床上哭泣，时不时地啜泣。当他听到那些稚嫩的笑声之后，他就想，要不是因为自己的行为葬送了自己的快乐的话，他也能这么开心地笑。
哈利想，安妮会不会好心地给自己一个梨呢？突然，他听到楼梯上传来脚步声，他以为是妹妹来了，脚步声越来越近，最后一个小脑袋伸进了半开的门。
但是伸头进来的不是安妮，而是弗里斯克——可怜的弗里斯克，那个已经被哈利戏弄和折磨了一上午的弗里斯克。此时，它摇着尾巴走进哈利的房间，嘴里叼着一个梨，然后跳上床，把梨放在了小男孩的手里。
这不就是哈利那懂得感恩的好伙伴吗？不论它是否作揖，难道它不该得到哈利的那份早餐吗？小哈利会永远记住今天发生的事，给予别人善意，即使是狗，也会得到回报，但是恶毒和坏脾气只能给人带来痛苦和懊悔。
The Noblest Revenge
“I will have revenge on him,that I will,and make him heartily repent it，”said Philip to himself,with a countenance quite red with anger. His mind was so engaged that he did not see Stephen,who happened at that instant to meet him.
“Who is that，”said Stephen，“on whom you intend to be revenged?”Philip,as if awakened from a dream,stopped short,and looking at his friend,soon resumed a smile that was natural to his countenance.“Ah，”said he，“you remember my bamboo,a very pretty cane which was given me by my father,do you not?Look！there it is in pieces. It was farmer Robinson's son who reduced it to this worthless state.”
Stephen very coolly asked him what had induced young Robinson to break it.“I was walking peaceably along，”replied he，“and was playing with my cane by twisting it round my body. By accident,one of the ends slipped out of my hand,when I was opposite the gate,just by the wooden bridge,where the ill natured fellow had put down a pitcher of water,which he was taking home from the well.
“It so happened that my cane,in springing back,upset the pitcher,but did not break it. He came up close to me,and began to call me names,when I assured him that what I had done had happened by accident,and that I was sorry for it.Without regarding what I said,he instantly seized my cane,and twisted it,as you see；but I will make him repent of it.”
“To be sure，”said Stephen，“he is a very wicked boy,and is already very properly punished for being such,since nobody likes him or will have anything to do with him. He can scarcely find a companion to play with him；and is often at a loss for amusement,as he deserves to be.This,properly considered,I think will appear sufficient revenge for you.”
“All this is true，”replied Philip，“but he has broken my cane. It was a present from my father,and a very pretty cane it was.I offered to fill his pitcher for him again,as I knocked it down by accident.I will be revenged.”
“Now,Philip；”said Stephen，“I think you will act better in not minding him,as your contempt will be the best punishment you can inflict upon him. Be assured,he will always be able to do more mischief to you than you choose to do to him.And,now I think of it,I will tell you what happened to him not long since.
“Very unluckily for him,he chanced to see a bee hovering about a flower which he caught,and was going to pull off its wings out of sport,when the animal stung him,and flew away in safety to the hive. The pain put him into a furious passion,and,like you,he vowed revenge.He accordingly procured a stick,and thrust it into the beehive.
“In an instant the whole swarm flew out,and alighting upon him stung him in a hundred different places. He uttered the most piercing cries,and rolled upon the ground in the excess of his agony.His father immediately ran to him,but could not put the bees to flight until they had stung him so severely that he was confined several days to his bed.
“Thus,you see,he was not very successful in his pursuit of revenge. I would advise you,therefore,to pass over his insult.He is a wicked boy,and much stronger than you；so that your ability to obtain this revenge may be doubtful.”
“I must own，”replied Philip，“that your advice seems very good. So come along with me,and I will tell my father the whole matter,and I think he will not be angry with me.”They went,and Philip told his father what had happened.He thanked Stephen for the good advice he had given his son,and promised Philip to give him another cane exactly like the first.
A few days afterward,Philip saw this ill-natured boy fall as he was carrying home a heavy log of wood,which he could not lift up again. Philip ran to him,and helped him to replace it on his shoulder.Young Robinson was quite ashamed at the thought of this unmerited kindness,and heartily repented of his behavior.Philip went home quite satisfied.“This，”said he，“is the noblest vengeance I could take,in returning good for evil.It is impossible I should repent of it.”
最高尚的复仇
“我要报仇，让他对自己的所作所为感到悔恨。”菲利普对自己说，他的脸气得通红。此时的他太过专注，完全没有看到这时遇到的史蒂芬。
“他是谁？”史蒂芬问，“你想要报复谁？”菲利普好似从梦中惊醒，他看着他的朋友，停顿片刻，很快脸上浮现出自然的微笑。“嗯，”他说，“你还记得我父亲送给我的竹手杖吧？看！农夫罗宾逊的儿子把它弄成了好几截，这下可好，这手杖一文钱都不值了。”
史蒂芬脸色凝重地问菲利普，小罗宾逊是怎么弄坏手杖的。“有一天，我安静地在路上走着，”菲利普答道，“我把手杖挎在身上。但是，发生了意外，手杖的一头脱离了我的手，当时我站在木桥入口的对面，这个坏家伙来到木桥上，并且扔下一个水壶，他从这儿打完水，打算带水回家。
“碰巧我的手杖弹了回来，打翻了他的水壶，但是手杖并没有坏。当我说这一切都是个意外，并且对他表示歉意的时候，他向我走来，开始叫我的名字。他毫不理会我说的话，而是迅速拿起我的手杖，把它折断了，然后我的手杖就成这样了。你也看到了，不过我会让他付出代价的。”
“确切地说，”史蒂芬说，“他是个招人烦的孩子，而且他也受到了应有的惩罚，因为没人喜欢他，没人愿意跟他在一起，他连个玩伴都没有，对于他来说没有快乐可言，这是他自作自受。我认为，这就足够他受的了。”
“你说的这些都很对，”菲利普答道，“但是他折断了我的手杖，这是我父亲给我的礼物，这手杖很珍贵。我答应帮他重新灌一次水，因为我不小心碰掉了他的水壶，但是他不领情，所以我一定要报复。”
“菲利普，”史蒂芬说，“我认为你不理他更好，你对他的蔑视是对他最好的惩罚，记住，他永远都有数不完的恶作剧去整你。我给你讲不久前发生在他身上的一件事吧。
“那次他很不走运，他发现他摘的花上有一只蜜蜂，它展开双翅把他蛰了，然后安全地飞回蜂巢。他感到疼痛难忍，就像你一样，他发誓要复仇。于是，他拿起一根木棍，捅进了蜂箱。
“就在捅进去的一瞬间，所有的蜜蜂都飞了出来，它们飞到他身旁，把他全身蛰了个遍。他声嘶力竭地吼叫起来，痛苦地在地上打滚。他父亲立刻跑过来，但是那些蜜蜂直到把他蛰得很严重才罢休，以至于他在家里躺了好几天。
“你看，他的复仇并没有成功，因此，我建议你，无视他对你的侮辱，他是个坏孩子，而且他比你更强壮，所以我很担心，以你的能力，很难实现你的复仇。”
“我必须这样做，”菲利普说，“不过，你的建议听起来不错，跟我一起去吧，我会把这件事告诉我父亲，他听了之后，或许就不会像我这样生气了。”之后，他们一起去了，菲利普把这件事向父亲说了，他父亲十分感谢史蒂芬，因为史蒂芬给自己的儿子提了一个好建议。然后，他给了菲利普一根一模一样的手杖。
几天之后，菲利普又看到了那个坏小孩，他正扛着木头走在回家的路上，但是他摔倒了，而且站不起来。菲利普连忙跑过去把他扶起来，并帮他摆好肩膀上的木头。小罗宾逊对他的一番好意感到十分羞愧，他对自己之前的行为感到后悔。然后，菲利普心满意足地回了家，他说：“这是我所做过的最高尚的复仇，以德报怨，而且我绝不后悔这么做。”