时间:2019年09月18日 20:51:58

My Mother's GiftI grew up in a small town where the elementary school was a ten-minute walk from my house and in an age , not so long ago , when children could go home lunch and find their mothers waiting.At the time, I did not consider this a luxury, although today it certainly would be. I took it granted that mothers were the sandwich-makers, the finger-painting appreciators and the homework monitors. I never questioned that this ambitious, intelligent woman, who had had a career bee I was born and would eventually return to a career, would spend almost every lunch hour throughout my elementary school years just with me.I only knew that when the noon bell rang, I would race breathlessly home. My mother would be standing at the top of the stairs, smiling down at me with a look that suggested I was the only important thing she had on her mind. this, I am ever grateful. Some sounds bring it all back the highpitched squeal of my mother's teakettle, the rumble of the washing machine in the basement and the jangle of my dog's license tags as she bounded down the stairs to greet me. Our time together seemed devoid of the gerrymandered schedules that now pervade my life.One lunchtime when I was in the third grade will stay with me always. I had been picked to be the princess in the school play, and weeks my mother had painstakingly rehearsed my lines with me. But no matter how easily I delivered them at home, as soon as I stepped onstage, every word disappeared from my head. Finally, my teacher took me aside. She explained that she had written a narrator's part to the play, and asked me to switch roles. Her word, kindly delivered, still stung, especially when I saw my part go to another girl.I didn't tell my mother what had happened when I went home lunch that day. But she sensed my unease, and instead of suggesting we practice my lines, she asked If I wanted to walk in the yard.It was a lovely spring day and the rose vine on the trellis was turning green. Under the huge elm trees, we could see yellow dandelions popping through the grass in bunches, as if a painter had touched our landscape with dabs of gold .I watched my mother casually bend down by one of the clumps. "I think I'm going to dig up all these weeds, "she said, yanking a blossom up by its roots. "From now on, we'll have only roses in this garden. ""But I like dandelions, " I protested. "All flowers are beautiful-even dandelions. "My mother looked at me seriously. "Yes, every flower gives pleasure in its own way, doesn't it?" She asked thoughtfully. I nodded, pleased that I had won her over. "And that is true of people too, " she added. "Not everyone can be a princess, but there is no shame in that.Relieved that she had guessed my pain, I started to cry as I told her what had happened. She listened and smiled reassuringly."But you will be a beautiful narrator, " she said , reminding me of how much I loved to stories aloud to her . "The narrator's part is every bit as important as the part of a princess. "Over the next few weeks, with her constant encouragement, I learned to take pride in the role. Lunchtimes were spent ing over my lines and talking abut what I would wear.Backstage the night of the permance, I felt nervous. A few minutes bee the play, my teacher came over to me. "Your mother asked me to give this to you, " she said, handing me a dandelion. Its edges were aly beginning to curl and it flopped lazily from its stem. But just looking at it, knowing my mother was out there and thinking of our lunchtime talk, made me proud .After the play , I took home the flower I had stuffed in the apron of my costume . My mother pressed it between two sheets of paper toweling in a dictionary , laughing as she did it that we were perhaps the only people who would press such a sorry-looking weed . I often look back on our lunchtimes together , bathed in the soft midday light . They were the commas in my childhood , the pauses that told me life is not savored in premeasured increment , but in the sum of daily rituals and small pleasures we casually share with loved ones . Over peanut-butter sandwiches and chocolate-chip cookies , I learned that love , first and emost , means being there the little things . A few months ago , my mother came to visit , I took off a day from work and treated her to lunch. The restaurant bustled with noontime activity as businesspeople made deals and glanced at their watches . In the middle of all this sat my mother , now retired , and I . From her face I could see that she relished the pace of the work world ."Mom , you must have been terribly bored staying at home when I was a child , " I said ."Bored? Housework is boring . But you were never boring . "I didn't believe her , so I pressed . "Surely children are not as stimulating as a career. ""A career is stimulating , " she said . "I'm glad I had one . But a career is like an open balloon. It remains inflated only as long as you keep pumping . A child is a seed . You water it . You care it the best you can . And then it grows all by itself into a beautiful flower . "Just then , looking at her , I could picture us sitting at her kitchen table once again , and I understood why I kept that flaky brown dandelion in our old family dictionary pressed between two crumpled bits of paper towel. 939

Freedom parrot呼喊自由的鹦鹉A man, a great man, a fighter freedom was traveling in the mountains. He stayed in a caravans the night. He was amazed that in the caravans there was a beautiful parrot in a golden cage, continually repeating ;Freedom! Freedom!;. And it was such a place that when the parrot repeated the word ;Freedom!; it would go on echoing in the valleys, in the mountains.一个人,一个了不起的人,一个为了自由而战的斗士,正在山峦间穿行今晚他留在一个大旅店里过夜旅店里有一个金鸟笼,里面有一只漂亮的鹦鹉在不停地反复呼喊着;自由!自由!;,这让他很震惊那里是这样的一种地方,当这只鹦鹉不断地反复呼喊;自由!;的时候,这个词便会在山峦间、在深谷中久久回荡The man thought ;I have seen many parrots, and I have thought they must want to be free from those cages... but I have never seen such a parrot whose whole day, from the morning to the evening when he goes to sleep, is spent in calling out freedom.; He had an idea. In the middle of the night, when the owner was fast asleep, he got up and opened the door of the cage. He whispered to the parrot, ;Now get out.;这个人想:;我看到过很多鹦鹉,也曾想过他们一定想从这些笼子里飞出去获得自由;;但是,我从没有见过这样的鹦鹉,从早到晚,直到入睡,一整天都在呼喊着自由;他有了一个想法;;午夜,当店主熟睡的时候,他悄悄起身,打开了鸟笼门,小声地对鹦鹉说:;现在,出去吧;But he was very surprised that the parrot was clinging to the bars of the cage. He said to him again and again, ;Have you gotten about freedom? Just get out! The door is open and the owner is fast asleep; nobody will ever know. You just fly into the sky; the whole sky is yours.;但是令他吃惊的是这只鹦鹉竟抓着鸟笼的横木不放他对它一遍又一遍地说:;你忘了自由了吗?快出去!门开着,店主熟睡着,没有人会看到你只要飞向天空,整片天空就是你的了;But the parrot was clinging so deeply, so hard, that the man said, ;What is the matter? Are you mad?; He tried to take the parrot out with his own hands, but the parrot started pecking at him, and at the same time he was shouting, ;Freedom! Freedom!; The valleys in the night echoed and re-echoed, but the man was also stubborn; he was a freedom fighter.但是鹦鹉仍然牢牢地用力抓着横木不放,于是他说:;怎么了?你疯了吗?;他试图用手把鹦鹉弄出来,但是鹦鹉却开始啄他,同时大喊:;自由!自由!;深夜的山谷里荡起了一声又一声的回音,可是这个人也一样地顽固,谁让他是个自由之士呢He pulled the parrot out and threw him into the sky; and he was very satisfied, although his hand was hurt. The parrot had attacked him as cefully as he could, but the man was immensely satisfied that he had made a soul free. He went to sleep.他把鹦鹉拽出来,扔向空中他很满意,尽管他的手受伤了虽然鹦鹉全力地攻击他,但是他却心满意足,因为他使得一个灵魂自由了他便回去继续睡他的觉In the morning, as the man was waking up, he heard the parrot shouting, ;Freedom! Freedom; He thought perhaps the parrot must be sitting on a tree or on a rock. But when he came out, the parrot was sitting in the cage. The door was open.早晨,当他醒来时,他听见鹦鹉大喊道:;自由!自由!;他想鹦鹉一定是栖息在树上或岩石上但是当他走出屋子时,鹦鹉还在笼子中门是开着的 5653

萨拉跑进来"看,我发现了什么"我正在看报,一条卷长的有点离破碎的东西出现在报纸上,把我吓得跳了起来那是一条蛇的蜕皮,我们的花园里有很多蛇"它难道不漂亮吗?"我那7岁的小女儿眨着她的大眼睛问道Peeling Away Artifice the Pure Original Sarah came running in."Look what I found." Over the top of the paper I was ing came a crispy, crumbling long object that caused me to jump. It was a snake skin that had been shed by one of our many garden snakes."Isn't it beautiful?" said my wide-eyed seven-year-old.I stared at the organic wrapper and thought to myself that it really wasn' t that beautiful, but I have learned never to appear nonchalant or jaded with children. Everything they see the first time is elementary to their sense of beauty and creativity; they see only merit and excellence in the world until educated otherwise."Why does it do this?" Sarah asked.Robert, ever the innocent comedian, said"We have a naked snake in our garden!"I also try to customize every opporty to teach my children that there is almost always something beyond the obvious; that there is something else going on besides what they see in front of them."Snakes shed their skin because they need to renew themselves," I explained. As is so often the case in my family, the original subject leads to another and another, until we are discussing something quite different."Why do they need to renew themselves?" Sarah asked.Robert quipped" 'Cos they don't like who they are and they want to be someone else."Sarah and I politely ignored her brother. I suddenly remembered an on this page many years ago where the writer was expressing her concept of renewal. She used layers of paper over a wall to describe how we hide our original selves, and said that by peeling away those layers one by one, we see the underlying original beneath."We often need to shed our skins, those coatings and facades that we cover ourselves with," I said to my now absorbed daughter. "We outgrow some things and find other stuff unwanted or unnecessary. This snake no longer needs this skin. It is probably too stiff and crinkly him, and he probably doesn' t think he looks as smart in it as he once did. Like buying a new suit."Of course, I' m sure this explanation won' t sit well with bonafide naturalists. But Sarah was getting the point. As we talked, I knew that she began to comprehend, albeit slightly, that renewal is part of progress; that we need to take a good look at ourselves, and our rooms and schoolwork and creativity and spirituality, and see what we need to keep and what we need to cast off. I was careful to point out that this is a natural process, not one to be ced."Snakes don' t peel off their skin when they feel like it." I explained. " It happens as a natural consequence of their growth.""I see, Dad," said Sarah and jumped off my lap, grabbed the snakeskin, and ran off.I hoped she would remember this. That often, in order to find our real selves underneath the layers of commy and culture with which we cloak ourselves year after year, we need to start examining these layers. We need to gently peel some away, as we recognize them to be worthless, unnecessary, or flawed; or at best, store the discarded ones as mementoes of our promotion to a better vitality or spirit.

Examination — a Necessary EvilIn spite of the fact that examinations have been hated by most of the studentsas well as some teachers decades,they still survive and show no signs of fading away.In our system of education today,examinations are a common feature.Our present education system has often been criticizedas too examination-oriented.However, one must remember that in offices and other areas of work,examinations still feature clearly.There is no doubt that the fear and influence of examinationcause much preparation work.So it theree appears that examinations,whether considered good or bad,would stay a while as a test of human knowledge.Examinations are meant to test the intellect of a person,how much he knows or how he has learnt from a particular course.It is designed to make students study,which should be their immediate mission in life.In our competitive world of today,examinations have a highly selecting role.In the university, students have to pass annual examinationsbee they are allowed to continue,or study a harder syllabus.Moreover, entrance into a university,the results of the examination that they take previous to their entrancewould provide a guide as towhether a student has the minimum qualifications necessary.In offices whether government or private ones,examination results show clearly whether a person is fit promotion.The results indicate how much he knows about the workand in what areas he has to be improved his future accomplishments.In all these cases,examinations inculcate a spirit of hard work and competition.Students and office workers alike can refresh their mind again and againon what they have learnt as far as their studies or work are concerned.This maintains a certain individual and overall standard of knowledge. 89

上帝拍拍他的头说: "你的天使会告诉你最美丽甜蜜的话,对你有耐心,悉心照料,教你说话" Once upon a time there was a child y to be born. So one day he asked God, “They tell me you are sending me to earth tomorrow but how am I going to live there being so small and helpless?”God replied, “Among the many angels, I chose one you. She will be waiting you and will take care of you.”But the child wasn't sure he really wanted to go. “But tell me, here in Heaven, I don't do anything else but sing and smile, that's enough me to be happy.”“Your angel will sing you and will also smile you every day. And you will feel your angel's love and be happy.”“And how am I going to be able to understand when people talk to me,” the child continued, “if I don't know the language that men talk?”God patted him on the head and said, “Your angel will tell you the most beautiful and sweet words you will ever hear, and with much patience and care, your angel will teach you how to speak.”“And what am I going to do when I want to talk to you?”But God had an answer that question too. “Your angel will place your hands together and will teach you how to pray.”“I've heard that on earth there are bad men, who will protect me?”“Your angel will defend you even if it means risking her life!”“But I will always be sad because I will not see you anymore,” the child continued warily.God smiled on the young one. “Your angel will always talk to you about me and will teach you the way you to come back to me, even though I will always be next to you.”At that moment there was much peace in Heaven, but voices from earth could aly be heard. The child knew he had to start on his journey very soon. He asked God one more question, softly, “Oh God, if I am about to leave now, please tell me my angel's name.”God touched the child on the shoulder and answered, “Your angel's name is not hard to remember. You will simply call her Mommy.” 59

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