第2章 Gratitude: Friendship and Kindness感恩的心·有爱相伴
Some people come into our lives and quickly go. Some stay for a while and leave footprints on our hearts. And we are never, ever the same.
有些人在我们的生命中匆匆走过，有些人短暂停留却成为一生的记忆。而我们，已然因之改变。
Mr. Washington 华盛顿先生
Les Brown
One day in 11th grade, I went into a classroom to wait for a friend of mine. When I went into the room, the teacher, Mr. Washington, suddenly appeared and asked me to go to the board to write something, to work something out. I told him that I couldn't do it. And he said, “Why not?”
I said, “Because I'm not one of your students.”
He said, “It doesn't matter. Go to the board anyhow.”
I said, “I can't do that.”
He said, “Why not?”
And I paused because I was somewhat embarrassed. I said, “Because I'm Educable Mentally Retarded.”
He came from behind his desk and he looked at me and he said, “Don't ever say that again. Someone's opinion of you does not have to become your reality.”
It was a very liberating moment for me. On one hand, I was humiliated because the other students laughed at me. They knew that I was in Special Education. But on the other hand, I was liberated because he began to bring to my attention that I did not have to live within the context of what another person's view of me was.
And so Mr. Washington became my mentor[1]. Prior to this experience, I had failed twice in school. I was identified as Educable Mentally Retarded in the fifth grade, put back from the fifth grade into the fourth grade, and failed again, when I was in the eighth grade. So this person made a dramatic difference in my life.
I always say that he operates in the consciousness of Goethe, who said, “Look at a man the way that he is, he only becomes worse. But look at him as if he were what he could be, and then he becomes what he should be.”
Like Calvin Lloyd, Mr. Washington believed that“Nobody rises to low expectations.” This man always gave students the feeling that he had high expectations for them and we strove [2], all of the students strove, to live up to what those expectations were.
One day, when I was still a junior, I heard him giving a speech to some graduating seniors. He said to them,“You have greatness within you. You have something special. If just one of you can get a glimpse of a larger vision of yourself, of who you really are, of what it is you bring to the planet, of your specialness, then in a historical context, the world will never be the same again. You can make your parents proud. You can make your school proud. You can make your community proud. You can touch millions of people's lives.” He was talking to the seniors, but it seemed like that speech was for me.
I remember when they gave him a standing ovation[3]. Afterwards, I caught up to him in the parking lot and I said, “Mr. Washington, do you remember me? I was in the auditorium when you were talking to the seniors.”
He said, “What were you doing there? You are a junior.”
I said, “I know. But that's a speech you were giving. I heard your voice coming through the auditorium doors. That speech was for me, Sir. You said they had greatness within them. I was in that auditorium. Is there greatness within me, Sir?”
He said, “Yes, Mr. Brown.”
“But the fact is that I failed English and math and history, and I'm going to have to go to summer school. What about that, Sir? I'm slower than most kids. I'm not as smart as my brother or my sister who's going to the University of Miami.”
“It doesn't matter. It just means that you have to work harder. Your grades don't determine who you are or what you can produce in your life.”
“I want to buy my mother a home.”
“It's possible, Mr. Brown. You can do that.” And he turned to walk away again.
“Mr. Washington?”
“What do you want now?”
“Uh, I'm the one, Sir. You remember me, remember my name. One day you're gonna hear it. I'm gonna make you proud. I'm the one, Sir.”
School was a real struggle for me. I was passed from one grade to another because I was not a bad kid. I was a nice kid; I was a fun kid. I made people laugh. I was polite. I was respectful. So teachers would pass me on, which was not helpful to me. But Mr. Washington made demands on me. He made me accountable [4]. But he enabled me to believe that I could handle it, that I could do it.
He became my instructor in my senior year, even though I was in Special Education. Normally, Special Ed students don't take Speech and Drama, but they made special provisions for me to be with him. The principal realized the kind of bonding that had taken place and the impact that he'd made on me because I had begun to do well academically. For the first time in my life I was on the honor roll. I wanted to travel on a trip with the drama and I had to be on the honor roll in order to make the trip out of town. That was a miracle for me!
Mr. Washington restructured my own picture of who I am. He gave me a larger vision of myself, beyond my mental conditioning and my circumstances.
Years later, I produced five specials that appeared on public television. I had some friends call him when my program, “You Deserve”, was on the educational television channel in Miami. I was sitting by the phone waiting when he called me in Detroit. He said, “May I speak to Mr. Brown, please?”
“Who's calling?”
“You know who's calling.”
“Oh, Mr. Washington, it's you.”
“You were the one, weren't you?”
“Yes, Sir, I was.”
读十一年级的一天，我到一间教室去等我的一个朋友。正当我走进教室时，讲台上的老师，华盛顿先生，忽然注意到了我，并叫我到黑板上解一些题目。我告诉他，我不能。他问：“为什么？”
“因为我不是您的学生。”
“那没关系，到黑板前来吧。”
我仍然说：“我不能。”
他又问：“为什么？”
我窘迫地迟疑了一下，然后回答：“我是一名可教型智力迟钝儿童。”
他从讲台后抽身到我近前，注视着我：“别再这么说自己了。那只是别人对你的看法，那不一定就是你。”
那一刻我如梦方醒。一方面，其他学生知道了我在接受特殊教育的事实，他们的嘲笑使我当众出丑；但另一方面，我却释怀了，因为他让我开始懂得，我不必活在他人的眼光中。
就这样，华盛顿先生成了我生活中的良师。在此之前，我已有过两次失败的经历。一次是在五年级时被鉴定为智力迟钝，并因此降级到了四年级；到了八年级，我又遭遇了一次降级。眼前的这个人却让我的人生彻底转变了。
我一直认为他受歌德影响颇深，正如歌德曾说过：“看一个人要是囿于他的现在，那么他只能倒退；若能瞻前地看他的潜质，那么他一定不会令你失望。”
和卡尔文·洛伊德一样，华盛顿先生认为：“强者是需要激励的。”他总让学生们感到，他对他们有着很高的期许，于是我们向着这个期许努力，所有的学生都在为之努力，以证明我们能行。
还在读高三的一天，我听到他给一群即将毕业的学生做演讲。他慷慨陈词：“你们每个人都有可取之处，也都有特别之处。倘若你们中的哪一位能跳脱局限高视自我，想想你们真正能成为什么样的人，想想你们能给这个世界带来什么，想想你们是多么的独一无二，那么，纵观历史，世界将因你们而不同！你们将让父母引以为傲，让母校引以为傲，让周遭人引以为傲，你们将牵动无数人的生活！”虽然他的这番话是说给毕业班的学生，但在我听来，却像是说给我自己的。
我记得学生们那时都站起来为他喝彩。随后，我在停车场追上了他：“华盛顿先生，您还记得我吗？我刚才在礼堂听了您为毕业班做的演讲。”
“你怎么会在那儿？你还是高三生。”他说道。
“是啊，但我听出那是你在演讲，礼堂外传来你的声音，那番话就像是对我说的，先生。你说他们都有可取之处，那么，先生请告诉我，同样置身礼堂的我是不是也有可取之处呢？”我说。
他肯定地回答：“没错，布朗。”
“可事实上，我的英语、数学和历史三科都没及格，为此我还要上暑期补习班，这又怎能说得过去？我比大多数孩子反应迟钝，我也没哥哥姐姐聪明，考不上迈阿密大学。”
“不要紧，这些只说明你还要更加努力。你的考试成绩并不能决定你将成为什么样的人，或者你能创造怎样的人生。”
“我想给妈妈购置一个家。”
“这当然可能，布朗。你能做得到。”他转身再度要走。
“华盛顿先生？”我叫住他。
“还有什么想说？”
“呃，我会成为那个人的，先生。请记住我，记住我的名字。会有那么一天，我的名字将家喻户晓。我会让您为我自豪的。我就是那个人，先生。”
在学校里，我的日子并不好过。我之所以能够升到高一年级，完全仰仗我不是个坏学生。我品行良好，还挺有趣，能制造笑料。我很有礼貌，言行得体。所以，老师们对我只是随手放行，于我却没有任何益处。而华盛顿先生不同，他对我要求苛刻，在他那里我不再无关紧要。他让我相信自己能够担当，能够做好。
高四那年，他成为我的指导老师，即便当时我还在接受特殊教育。正常来讲，像我这样的学生不需要修学演讲和戏剧课程，但校方还是为我能上他的课创造了条件。因为我的学业表现越来越好，校长也意识到在我和华盛顿先生之间连结着一条纽带，而他对我的影响显而易见。生平第一次，我的名字出现在了光荣榜上。我多想踏上我的戏剧之旅，而只有登上光荣榜我才有可能真正上路。奇迹眷顾我了！
华盛顿先生重塑了我的整个人生轨迹，他没有让我因为智力状况和自身处境而看轻自己，他让我超越了自身局限。
多年以后，我制作的五辑电视特别节目已经走进了千家万户。当片子《归功于你》在迈阿密教育频道播出时，我通过朋友联系到了华盛顿先生。当他从底特律打来电话时，我就等在话机旁。“布朗先生在吗？”
“哪一位？”
“你一定知道我是谁。”
“是你，华盛顿先生。”
“你已经成为那个人了，是吗？”
“嗯，我做到了，先生。”
【美丽校训励我心】
“Oxford University: The Lord is my illumination.”
“牛津大学：上帝照亮吾之蒙昧。”
A Gift From God 上帝的礼物
John W. Schlatter
One day, when I was a freshman in high school, I saw a kid from my class was walking home from school. His name was Kyle. It looked like he was carrying all of his books. I thought to myself, “Why would anyone bring home all his books on a Friday? He must really be a nerd[5].”
I had quite a weekend planned (parties and a football game with my friends tomorrow afternoon), so I shrugged my shoulders and went on.
As I was walking, I saw a bunch of kids running toward him. They ran at him, knocking all his books out of his arms and tripping him so he landed in the dirt. His glasses went flying, and I saw them land in the grass about ten feet from him. He looked up and I saw this terrible sadness in his eyes. My heart went out to him. So, I jogged over to him as he crawled[6]around looking for his glasses, and I saw tears in his eyes.
As I handed him his glasses, I said, “Those guys are jerks. They really should get lives.”
He looked at me and said, “Hey thanks!” There was a big smile on his face. It was one of those smiles that showed real gratitude.
I helped him pick up his books, and asked him where he lived. As it turned out, he lived near me, so I asked him why I had never seen him before. He said he had gone to private school before now. I would have never hung out with a private school kid before.
We talked all the way home, and I carried his books. He turned out to be a pretty cool kid. I asked him if he wanted to play football on Saturday with me and my friends. He said yes.
We hung all weekend and the more I got to know Kyle, the more I liked him. And my friends thought the same of him. Monday morning came, and there was Kyle with the huge stack of books again. I stopped him and said, “Darn boy, you are gonna really build some serious muscles with this pile of books everyday!” He just laughed and handed me half the books.
Over the next four years, Kyle and I became best friends. When we were seniors, we began to think about college. Kyle decided on Georgetown, and I was going to Duke. I knew that we would always be friends, that the miles would never be a problem. He was going to be a doctor, and I was going for business on a football scholarship.
Kyle was valedictorian[7]of our class. I teased him all the time about being a nerd. He had to prepare a speech for graduation. I was so glad it wasn't me having to get up there and speak.
Graduation day, I saw Kyle. He looked great. He was one of those guys that really found himself during high school. He filled out and actually looked good in glasses. He had more dates than me and all the girls loved him!
Boy, sometimes I was jealous. Today was one of those days. I could see that he was nervous about his speech. So, I smacked[8]him on the back and said, “Hey, big guy, you'll be great!” He looked at me with one of those looks (the really grateful one) and smiled. “Thanks,”he said.
As he started his speech, he cleared his throat, and began. “Graduation is a time to thank those who helped you make it through those tough years. Your parents, your teachers, your siblings, maybe a coach…but mostly, your friends. I am here to tell all of you that being a friend to someone is the best gift you can give him. I am going to tell you a story.”
I just looked at my friend with disbelief as he told the story of the first day we met. He had planned to kill himself over the weekend. He talked of how he had cleaned out his locker [9]so his mom wouldn't have to do it later and was carrying his stuff home. He looked hard at me and gave me a little smile. “Thankfully, I was saved. My friend saved me from doing the unspeakable.”
I heard the gasp go through the crowd as this handsome, popular boy told us all about his weakest moment. I saw his mom and dad looking at me and smiling that same grateful smile. Not until that moment did I realize its depth.
Never underestimate the power of your actions. With one small gesture you can change a person's life. For better or for worse. God puts us all in each other's lives to impact one another in some way. Look for God in others.
Each day is a gift from God! Don't forget to say,“Thank you!”
当我还是高一新生时，有一天，我看见班上的一位同学正走在回家的路上。他叫凯尔。他好像要把自己所有的书都往家里搬，我暗自想，到周五了，怎么会有人把全部的书都带回家呢？一定是个书呆子。
我的周末早就安排得满满的了——派对之余，还要在周六下午和朋友们打橄榄球。我耸耸肩，继续走我的路。
我正走着，迎面看到一群孩子朝他奔去。他们冲向他，撞翻他怀里的书，还将他绊倒在泥地里。他的眼镜顺势飞了出去，眼见着落在了十英尺外的草丛里。他抬起头，我看到那眼神中的痛楚。我的心也替他难过，于是我小跑到他跟前。他正趴在地上四处找他的眼镜，我看到他的眼中有泪花。
我把眼镜递给他，安慰他说，“一帮小混混，他们真该找点正经事做。”
他看着我，“嘿，谢谢你！”他的脸上展现出灿烂的笑容。这笑容里流露出发自内心的感激之情。
我帮忙拾起他的书，询问了他的住处，没想到我们竟住得很近。我很诧异，为什么从没见过他？他说，在这之前他一直在念私立学校。要是换做以前，我根本不会想和一个私校生走在一起。
我帮他拿书，之后便一路聊到家。我发现他很有趣，就问他愿不愿意周六跟我和朋友们打球，他答应了。
整个周末我们都呆在一起，愈了解凯尔，我愈觉得喜欢他。我的朋友们也都觉得他不错。到了周一早晨，凯尔和他的一大摞书又一起出现了。我招呼他，“死小子，天天拿着这堆书，你是想练成大块头吗？”他被我逗乐了，把书分了一半给我。
接下来的四年里，凯尔和我成了要好的朋友。临毕业那年，我们要报考大学了。凯尔决定去念乔治城大学，而我则选择去往杜克大学。我知道我们会是一辈子的朋友，哪怕远隔千里。他立志学医，而我准备拿到橄榄球奖学金后攻读商务专业。
凯尔是优秀毕业生，将代表我们班致告别辞。我总笑他是个书呆子。他得为毕业典礼的演讲做准备，我倒很庆幸站在大家面前发言的不是我。
毕业那天，我见到凯尔，他看起来棒极了。他是那种在高中时代真正明了自我的人。他还长胖了点，眼镜很衬托他的气质。他的约会比我要多，是女孩们竞相追逐的对象呢！
我得说，有时我真羡慕他，譬如像今天这样的时刻。我看到演讲前他有些紧张，就用力地拍了下他的后背，鼓励他说，“嘿，好小子，你很了不起。”他望着我，笑容里又是那般神情，有种发自内心的感激。“谢谢，”他说。
演讲开始之际，他先清了清嗓子，然后便开始了，“毕业之时，我们总要感激那些曾帮助我们渡过难关的人。父母，老师，兄弟姐妹，或某一位教练……但最该感谢的，恐怕是你的朋友们。在这儿我要对你们说，成为某个人的朋友就是你能给他的最好礼物。我想给你们讲一个故事。”
当他讲起我们第一次见面的情景时，我难以置信地看着我的这位朋友。原来那个周末他是打算自杀的。他说到他如何清理好了自己柜子里的所有物品，想全部带回家，这样日后就不必烦劳他妈妈了。他特意看向我，微微一笑，“谢天谢地，我被救了下来。是我的朋友阻止了我做这等傻事。”
当眼前这位英俊潇洒、颇受欢迎的小伙子吐露自己曾经的软弱时，我听到人群中发出一片感慨。而他的爸妈也在看向我，同样对我报以感激的微笑。直到此刻，我才明白这份感激的深意。
永远不要低估自身行为的力量。哪怕一个小小的举动，也可能改变他人的生活，不论这个影响是好是坏。上帝安排我们出现在他人的生命中，就是希望我们彼此间能够相互影响。那么，就请在他人身上寻求上帝的旨意吧。
每一天都是上帝赐予我们的礼物。别忘了对他人说，“谢谢你！”
【美丽校训励我心】
“Cambridge University: From here, light and sacred draughts.”
“剑桥大学：启蒙之光，智慧之源，求出于此。”
The List一份名单
Helen P. Mrosla
He was in the first third grade class I taught at Saint Mary's School in Morris, Minn. All 34 of my students were dear to me, but Mark Eklund was one in a million. Very neat in appearance, but had that happy-to-be-alive attitude that made even his occasional mischievousness[10]delightful.
Mark talked incessantly. I had to remind him again and again that talking without permission was not acceptable. What impressed me so much, though, was his sincere response every time I had to correct him for misbehaving—“Thank you for correcting me, Sister!”
I didn't know what to make of it at first, but before long I became accustomed to hearing it many times a day.
One morning my patience was growing thin when Mark talked once too often, and then I made a novice [11]teacher's mistake. I looked at Mark and said, “If you say one more word, I am going to tape your mouth shut!”
It wasn't ten seconds later when Chuck blurted out, “Mark is talking again.” I hadn't asked any of the students to help me watch Mark, but since I had stated the punishment in front of the class, I had to act on it. I remember the scene as if it had occurred this morning. I walked to my desk, very deliberately opened my drawer and took out a roll of masking tape. Without saying a word, I proceeded to Mark's desk, tore off two pieces of tape and made a big X with them over his mouth. I then returned to the front of the room.
As I glanced at Mark to see how he was doing, he winked at me. That did it! I started laughing. The class cheered as I walked back to Mark's desk, removed the tape, and shrugged my shoulders. His first words were,“Thank you for correcting me, Sister.”
At the end of the year, I was asked to teach junior-high math. The years flew by, and before I knew it Mark was in my classroom again. He was more handsome than ever and just as polite. Since he had to listen carefully to my instruction in the “new math”, he did not talk as much in ninth grade as he had in third.
One Friday, things just didn't feel right. We had worked hard on a new concept all week, and I sensed that the students were frowning, frustrated with themselves and edgy with one another. I had to stop this crankiness[12]before it got out of hand. So I asked them to list the names of the other students in the room on two sheets of paper, leaving a space between each name. Then I told them to think of the nicest thing they could say about each of their classmates and write it down. It took the remainder of the class period to finish their assignment, and as the students left the room, each one handed me the papers. Charlie smiled. Mark said, “Thank you for teaching me, Sister. Have a good weekend.”
That Saturday, I wrote down the name of each student on a separate sheet of paper, and I listed what everyone else had said about that individual. On Monday I gave each student his or her list. Before long, the entire class was smiling.
“Really?” I heard whispered. “I never knew that meant anything to anyone!”
“I didn't know others liked me so much.”
No one ever mentioned those papers in class again. I never knew if they discussed them after class or with their parents, but it didn't matter. The exercise had accomplished its purpose. The students were happy with themselves and one another again.
That group of students moved on. Several years later, after I returned from vacation, my parents met me at the airport. As we were driving home, Mother asked me the usual questions about the trip—the weather, my experiences in general.
There was a lull [13]in the conversation. Mother gave Dad a sideways glance and simply says, “Dad?”My father cleared his throat as he usually did before something important.
“The Eklunds called last night,” he began.
“Really?” I said. “I haven't heard from them in years. I wonder how Mark is.”
Dad responded quietly. “Mark was killed in Vietnam,”he said. “The funeral is tomorrow, and his parents would like it if you could attend.”
To this day I can still point to the exact spot on I-494 where Dad told me about Mark.
I had never seen a serviceman in a military coffin before. Mark looked so handsome, so mature. All I could think at that moment was, “Mark, I would give all the masking tapes in the world if only you would talk to me.”
The church was packed with Mark's friends. Chuck's sister sang “The Battle Hymn of the Republic”.
Why did it have to rain on the day of the funeral? It was difficult enough at the graveside. The pastor said the usual prayers, and the bugler played taps. One by one those who loved Mark took a last walk by the coffin and sprinkled it with holy water. I was the last one to bless the coffin. As I stood there, one of the soldiers who acted as pallbearer[14]came up to me.
“Were you Mark's math teacher?” he asked. I nodded as I continued to stare at the coffin. “Mark talked about you a lot,” he said.
After the funeral, most of Mark's former classmates headed to Chuck's farmhouse for lunch. Mark's mother and father were there, obviously waiting for me. “We want to show you something,” his father said, taking a wallet out of his pocket.
“They found this on Mark when he was killed. We thought you might recognize it.”
Opening the billfold, he carefully removed two worn pieces of notebook paper that had obviously been taped, folded and refolded many times. I knew without looking that the papers were the ones on which I had listed all the good things each of Mark's classmates had said about him.
“Thank you so much for doing that,” Mark's mother said. “As you can see, Mark treasured it.”
Mark's classmates started to gather around us.
Charlie smiled rather sheepishly [15]and said, “I still have my list. It's in the top drawer of my desk at home.”
Chuck's wife said, “Chuck asked me to put his in our wedding album.”
“I have mine too,” Marilyn said. “It's in my diary.”
Then Vicki, another classmate, reached into her pocketbook, took out her wallet and showed her worn and frazzled list to the group.
“I carry this with me at all times,” Vicki said without batting an eyelash. “I think we all saved our lists.”
That's when I finally sat down and cried. I cried for Mark and for all his friends who would never see him again.
我在位于明尼苏达州莫里斯的圣玛丽学校教书时，他是我教的第一个三年级班上的学生。全班34个学生个个都是我的宝贝，但马克·艾科龙却是他们中的活宝。他穿戴整洁，老是一脸无忧无虑的样儿，以至于偶尔的小促狭都那么讨喜。
马克总爱说个不停，为此我不得不一再地提醒他，未经允许就随便讲话是不对的。每当我这样纠正他的行为时，他诚恳的回应总能打动我，“谢谢你的指正，修女！”
起初我还有点无所适从，但没过多久，我就开始习惯每天听上这句好多遍了。
一天早上，马克又在讲个不停。不耐烦之下，我犯了个初为人师才会露出的错误。我盯着马克说：“再敢说一个字，我就把你的嘴巴封上！”
没出十秒钟，另一个学生乔可就嚷道：“马克又在讲话了。”我并没有让学生们监督马克的意思，但既然我已经把丑话说在全班面前，我就得说话算数。接下去的一幕我记忆犹新，就像今早才刚发生过一样。我走到讲桌旁，慢吞吞地拉开抽屉，拿出一卷胶布。之后我一言不发地走到马克桌前，撕下来两截，在他嘴上贴了个大大的X，便回到教室前面。
我瞥了一眼马克，想看他作何反应，谁料他却朝我眨巴眨巴眼睛。他又来这套！我忍不住笑了出来。在全班的大呼小叫声中，我走回马克桌前，揭下胶布，无奈地耸耸肩。他开口的第一句话便是：“谢谢你的指正，修女！”
那一年末，我被调去初中班教数学。时光荏苒，恍然间马克就又来到了我的班上。他比以前更加帅气了，却还是那么彬彬有礼。也许是因为他必须认真听我讲解“新数学”，九年级的他已不像三年级时那么爱讲话了。
那个周五，大家的情绪有点不对头。我们花了一整周时间学习一个新概念，却效果不佳，我注意到孩子们都皱着眉头，他们对自己感到泄气，又相互迁怒。我得在一切失控前赶紧缓解这种焦躁的气氛。于是，我让大家拿出两张纸，把班上除自己之外其他同学的名字写在上面，名字间留出空白。然后我让他们想一想每位同学最优秀之处，并把赞美之词一一写下来。大家用那堂课剩余的时间完成了这项任务，下课离开教室时，他们各自把纸张交了上来。查理微笑着。马克则对我说：“谢谢你的教导，修女！周末愉快！”
周六，我把每个人的名字单独列在一张纸上，然后写下其他人对他的评价。到了周一，我把写好的名单发到每个人手里。不一会儿，全班同学的脸上就都扬起了微笑。
“真的吗？”有人轻声说，“我从没想过自己这样有意义。”
“我都不知道自己这么受欢迎。”
后来，再没有人在课堂上提起过名单的事。我也不晓得他们私下里是否与同学或者父母讨论过，不过这都不重要了。对每个人来讲，这份名单已经起到了很好的作用。同学们又重新变得自信、融洽起来。
再后来，这批学生就升学了。若干年后，有一次我度假回来，父母到机场接我。开车回家的路上，母亲照例问我旅途的事，天气怎么样，去了哪些地方，诸如此类。
有一瞬间谈话停住了。母亲斜睨了父亲一眼，简短地迸出两个字：“她爸？”父亲清了清嗓子，以往有郑重的事要说时他就会这样。
“艾科龙家昨晚来电话了。”他说。
“是吗？”我有点惊讶，“好多年没他们的消息了，真想知道马克现在怎么样。”
父亲的回答却很平静，“马克在越战中牺牲了。”然后他说，“葬礼就在明天，他父母希望你能出席。”
时至今日，我仍能忆起当初父亲告诉我马克的消息时，车子行驶在I-494州际公路上的确切位置。
这是我第一次见到军人躺在军用棺材里的样子。马克看上去是成熟又帅气。那一刻，我脑中唯一的想法就是，“马克，只要你还能和我说说话，我愿用这世上所有的胶布来换。”
教堂里挤满了马克的朋友，乔可的姐姐唱起《共和国战歌》。
为什么此情此景还要下雨呢？站在墓前，人心格外难受。伴随着乐手的吹奏，牧师做了例行的祝祷。在场的亲人朋友，一个接一个地，最后一次走向马克的棺木，抛洒圣水。我是最后一个祝福逝者的人。当我站在马克棺前时，刚刚护柩的一位士兵向我走来。
“您就是马克的数学老师吧？”他问。我的眼睛注视着棺木，点了点头。“马克常常提起您。”他又说。
葬礼过后，马克的老同学们大多前往乔可的农庄用午餐。马克的父母亲还站在那里，显然是为了等我。“我们想给你看样东西。”他父亲边说边从口袋里掏出一个皮夹。
“马克死时，他们在他身上找到了这个。我们想您也许认得出来。”
打开钱夹，他小心翼翼地取出两张已经破损的笔记纸，显然它们曾被折了又折，粘了又粘。不用看我就知道，一定是那份名单，那份列着同学们的赞美之词的名单。
“感谢你为他做了这些，”马克的母亲说，“你也看到了，马克一直很珍视它。”
同学们这时也围了过来。
查理腼腆地一笑，说：“我也保存着我的名单呢，就在我家书桌抽屉的最上层。”
乔可的妻子则说：“乔可让我把他的那份镶在了结婚纪念册里。”
“我的也在，”玛丽莲说，“就夹在我的日记里。”
接着是维琪，又一位同学，伸手从手提包里拿出钱夹，给我们大家看了她那份残破皱折的名单。
“我一直随身带着它，”维琪极为泰然地说，“我想我们都保存了自己的那一份名单。”
此刻，我才终于坐下来哭了。我哭了，为马克，也为这班再也见不到马克的朋友们。
【美丽校训励我心】
“Yale University: Truth and light.”
“耶鲁大学：真理与光明。”
To Tell the Truth 选择诚实
Al Batt
“Who did this?” asked my teacher. Thirty children tried to think about not only what they had done, but also what our teacher may have found out. “Who did this?”asked my teacher once more. She wasn't really asking, she was demanding an answer. She seldom became angry, but she was this time. She held up a piece of broken glass and asked, “Who broke this window?”
“Oh, oh,” I thought. I was the one who broke the window. I had not done it intentionally. It was caused by an errant [16]throw of a baseball. I was working on my knuckleball [17]. It needed more work. Why did it have to be me? It wasn't really my fault. If I admitted guilt, I would be in a lot of trouble. How would I be able to pay for a big window like that? I didn't even get an allowance. “My father is going to have a fit [18],”I thought. I didn't want to raise my hand, but some force much stronger than I was pulled it skyward. I told the truth. “I did it.” I said no more. It was hard enough saying what I had done.
My teacher went to one of our library shelves and took down a book. She then began walking towards my desk. I had never known my teacher to strike a student, but I feared she was going to start with me and she was going to use a book for the swatting[19].
“I know how you like birds,” she said as she stood looking down at my guilt-ridden face. “Here is that field guide about birds that you are constantly checking out. It is yours. It's time we got a new one for the school anyway. The book is yours and you will not be punished as long as you remember that I am not rewarding you for your misdeed, I am rewarding you for your truthfulness.”
I couldn't believe it! I wasn't being punished and I was getting my very own bird field guide. It was the very one that I had been saving up money to buy, which money I feared would be going to the school to buy a new window. I wore out that book trying to match the live, flying birds to their depictions in that field guide. The book is gone, so is my wonderful teacher. All that remains of that day is my memory and the lesson my teacher taught me. That lesson stays with me every day and it will echo forever.
“谁干的？”老师问道。在场的30个孩子不仅开始回想自己做了什么，更想知道老师会调查出什么结果。“谁干的？”老师又问了一次。语气间已不像是在询问实情，而是在盘问逼供。她很少发火，但此刻她真的动怒了。她举着一块碎玻璃，继续厉声问道：“谁打碎了玻璃？”
“噢，天啊。”我暗自想，我就是那个打碎玻璃的人。但我并不是存心的，只怪刚才打棒球时一下扔球失了手。当时我正在练习蝴蝶球，技术还不是很熟练。可为什么倒霉的偏偏是我？怨不得我啊。如果此时站出来承认错误，我就会惹上很多麻烦。我哪有钱赔偿这么一大块玻璃的损失啊？我压根就没有零花钱。“父亲一定会大发雷霆的。”我胡乱想着。尽管我不情愿举手承认，但还是有一股比自身更强大的力量迫使我举起了手臂。我说了实话，“是我干的。”除此之外，我再说不出别的话来，我实在感到很难为情。
这时，老师走到一排书架前，取下一本书，随后向我的课桌走来。我还没听说过我的老师会体罚学生，但此刻我很担心成为她的第一个牺牲品，而那本书恐怕就是体罚我的武器。
“我知道你喜欢鸟类，”她停下脚步，望着我一脸负疚的神情，“这是那本你常翻阅的关于鸟类的野外指南。现在它是你的了，反正架子上也该换本新的。不仅这本书是你的，你也不会受到任何惩罚。只是你要记得，我奖励你可不是因为你做错了事，而是因为你勇于承认。”
我简直不敢相信这一幕！我没有受到一丁点惩罚，还意外获得了我心爱的那本鸟类野外指南。要知道，为了买这本书，我正拼命攒钱，刚才还很担心这些钱也要赔给学校买一块新玻璃呢。那本书后来被我翻破了，正是参照书里的描述，我一一辨认出自然界中真实飞翔的鸟儿。如今，那本书已经不在了，一起消失的还有当年那位仁慈善良的老师，留给我的只有关于那天的美好回忆，还有这隽永的人生一课。这一幕将常留在我心间，永久回响。
【美丽校训励我心】
“Stanford University: Let the wind of freedom blow. ”
“斯坦福大学：让自由之风劲吹。”
The Note 纸条情
Patty Hansen
When I was in the fifth grade, I fell in love—real love—for the very first time. It only took about a week into the school year for it to happen, and I was completely, head-over-heels crushing on Mike Daniels. No one ever called him just Mike; it was always one word—Mike Daniels. Blond hair that stuck up in every direction and blue eyes that crinkled in the corners when he laughed—visions of Mike Daniels occupied my every dream.
To say I wasn't the most popular or prettiest girl in our class would be an understatement. In fact, I think I must have been the original geek[20]. I was so skinny that I still had to wear days-of-the-week panties and dorky undershirts when most of my friends were starting to wear bras and more grown-up undergarments. My mom made me wear brown orthopedic [21]lace-up shoes to school every day, because I had a foot that turned in and my parents wanted to “correct it before it was too late”. Right smack dab in the middle of my two front teeth was this giant space that even gum surgery the year before hadn't fixed, and the two teeth on either side of my front teeth overlapped, making me look like I had fangs. Add a pair of thick glasses, thin baby-fine hair (with a home permanent from my mom—help!), knobby[22]skinned-up knees and elbows—and what do you get? A kid that only a parent could love.
I wouldn't—couldn't—tell my friends that I was in love with Mike Daniels. It was my secret to write about in my journal. In my dreams, Mike Daniels would suddenly grasp what a beautiful soul was hiding inside my gawky[23]body and realize that he loved me for who I really was. I spent hours writing poetry for him and stories about him, until one day I got up the nerve to actually write to him about how I felt.
Our teacher, Miss Finkelor, was really awesome about most things, but the one thing she was majorly serious about was not writing notes to each other during class. Everyone did it anyway. Except me. My only shot at self-esteem was being teacher's pet, and I excelled at it. I loved it so much it didn't even bother me when kids teased me about being the teacher's favorite.
It was a huge decision for me to go against the one thing that Miss Finkelor detested—note passing. But I knew that there was no other way to tell Mike Daniels about how I felt—and I also knew that if I never told him, I was going to burst… or maybe even freak out. I vowed to do it on Monday morning.
So, first thing Monday morning, in my very best printing, I wrote, “I love you”. That was it. Nothing else—no flowers, no poetry—just, “I love you”. I passed it to Dianne, who sat between me and Mike Daniels, and whispered, “Give this to Mike Daniels,” trying to look really casual, like it was a request to borrow a book from him or something. I held my breath as I watched him open and read it—then read it again. Then he folded it up and put it into his pocket. Oh my God, what have I done? What if he shows it to his buds at recess? They'll all laugh their heads off. I'm a fool. An idiot. Why did I tell him? I felt like I was going to throw up.
I was so involved in feeling like I was going to hurl, that I didn't even feel Dianne punching me in the arm. Then she shoved[24]a note in my hand. Slowly, I opened it. It was my own note. “Great, he thought it was so stupid that he sent it back to me,” I thought. Then it dawned on me—he had written something on the back of it:
“I like you, too. I'm glad we're friends.”
I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. I was so relieved that he didn't trash[25]me—that could have easily happened if Mike Daniels hadn't been a really nice guy. With that one little gesture of kindness, Mike Daniels made me feel special—and, not only that, but I felt that somehow, he had seen the real me hidden in the body of a fifth grade geek.
I kept that note for years—all the way through the eighth grade. Whenever I felt bad about myself, I would reread Mike Daniels' note and remember that act of kindness. It didn't matter to me what inspired him—if it was pity, or the recognition of things to come—that note gave me strength to go through the challenges of the tough years that followed fifth grade.
念五年级的时候，我第一次坠入爱河，我真正感到心动了。学期开始才一周，我就发现自己无可救药地迷恋上了麦克·丹尼尔。还没有人能只叫他麦克，通常都是麦克·丹尼尔这么连名带姓的称呼。他那金色的发丝根根张扬着，碧蓝的眼睛一笑间就在眼角漾出笑意，麦克·丹尼尔的神情举止令我魂牵梦萦。
说婉转些，我算不上班里最出众或者最漂亮的女生。照直说来，我觉得自己就是个少见的怪胎。我很瘦削，还在穿小女生的那种“一周七天”套装内裤和老土的贴身背心，而同年龄的女友们都开始穿文胸和成人内衣了。妈妈还让我每天上学都穿那双棕色系带的矫正鞋，因为我的一只脚走路有些内倾，所以爸妈想及早帮我纠正过来。而我的牙就更糟了，正中的两颗门牙间不偏不倚地留下了巨大的齿缝，一年前为此专门做了牙科整形也无济于事。更要命的是，门牙两侧的两颗牙又重叠长在一起，让我看起来像长了犬齿。再加上厚厚的眼镜片，幼细稀少的头发（这可是完全遗传自我母亲那一系——救命哦！），瘦骨嶙峋的膝部和肘部——所有这些集于一身，你会作何感想？恐怕你也会觉得，我只有父母宠爱的份罢了。
我不愿，更不能告诉我的朋友们，说我喜欢上了麦克·丹尼尔。这只能是我在日记中独享的秘密。我幻想着，麦克·丹尼尔能蓦然发掘我笨拙外表下的美丽灵魂，意识到他因爱我的灵魂而爱上我整个人。我会用几个小时的时间为他写诗创作故事，直到某天我鼓起勇气要把我对他的感受让他知道。
我们的老师，芬科勒小姐历来很威严，对于课堂上传纸条的现象更是明令禁止。但大家都干过这件事，只有我没干过。当老师的宠儿能让我的自尊心获得无上满足，何况我轻易就能成为讨老师喜欢的那种学生。这个宠儿我当得心甘情愿，哪怕被同学们嘲笑为老师的乖乖女也不以为意。
明知暗递纸条是芬科勒小姐反感的事，我还是下了很大决心拿定这个主意。我很清楚，没有别的办法可以告诉麦克·丹尼尔我的感受；同时我也清楚，如果再不告诉他，我的情绪就会濒临崩溃，甚至不知会做出什么来。因此，我发誓要在周一早晨迈出这一步。
到了周一，我先一早用自己最漂亮的印刷字体写下“我爱你”。就这些，不需要别的点缀了，不要鲜花，不要诗情，就这三个字“我爱你”。我把纸条递给坐在我和麦克·丹尼尔中间的黛安娜，悄声道：“传给麦克·丹尼尔。”我努力装作没什么特别的，就是问他借本书或者什么东西。我屏住呼吸看着他展开纸条，看了一遍，紧接着又看了一遍。然后他把纸条折了回去放进口袋里。哦，天啊，我做了什么？要是他在休息时把纸条拿给其他男生看，那可怎么办啊？那些人一定会笑掉下巴的。我真蠢，傻瓜一个。为什么要说出来呢？我感到自己几欲作呕。
这种感觉如此强烈地占据了我，以至于黛安娜用胳膊碰我时我都没有感觉到。她把一张纸条塞给我。我缓慢地展开它，是我刚才那张。“好吧，他一定是觉得荒唐透了，才把纸条还了回来。”我自忖。之后我才猛然意识到，他在纸条背面写了字。
“我也喜欢你，很高兴我们成为朋友。”
我不知该感动得哭出来还是笑出来。我如释重负，他没有以此捉弄我——如果麦克·丹尼尔不是真正善良的男孩子，那一幕可能早就发生了。只是这个微小的善举，麦克·丹尼尔给了我特殊的感受；不仅如此，我感到他多少看到了那个隐藏在怪异外表下的五年级小女孩的真实自我。
那张纸条我保存了许多年，一直到念完八年级。无论何时我对自己丧失信念，我都会重新看看麦克·丹尼尔的那张纸条，重温当初的那个善意的举动。他出于什么那样回应已经不重要了——不忍伤害我也好，坦然接受这份恋慕也罢，那张纸条赋予我的是勇气，让我能够勇于面对五年级之后的一切艰难挑战。
【美丽校训励我心】
“Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT):Mind and hand.”
“麻省理工学院：理论与实践并重。”
Reunited 重聚
Ellen Cady
Old friends. They finish your sentences, they remember the cat that ran away when you were twelve, and they tell you the truth when you've had a bad haircut. But mostly, they are always there for you—whether it's in person or via late night phone calls—through good times and bad. But as the years pass, it becomes increasingly difficult to see each other, to make new memories. Fortunately, my high school girlfriends and I vowed long ago not to let this happen. We vowed to have reunions.
A few months ago, we met up for a three-day weekend in the American Southwest. We grew up together in Maine and have said for years that we should have an annual event, yet it's often postponed or canceled due to schedule conflicts. Not this year.
Four of us—two from San Francisco, one from Boston, and one from Seattle—boarded planes bound for Santa Fe, New Mexico, where one of the gang lives and works for an art gallery. Two years ago, she moved there—escaped, rather—from the film industry in New York City, where she led a life that felt too fast, too unfulfilling. The artist in her longed for vibrant landscapes and starry moonlit skies. She wanted to drive a truck on dusty roads, a trusty dog at her side, riding shotgun. She got all that and found love, too. She is happy.
The rest of us—still big city folks—converged [26]on her like a cyclone [27]straight out of the pages of a girlfriend novel. Chattering and memory swapping, we were fifteen again—in a space of five minutes. Naturally, we relived some of the stories of our youth—angst and all—but we also brought much more to the gathering this time. We were new people. we were wives and girlfriends to someone back home. We were businesswomen, artists and writers. We were no longer girls, no longer post-college grads. We were women.
I shared an air mattress that night with my friend from Boston, the one who calls me, while rubbernecking [28]in traffic, to catch up on her cell phone, to tell me of her life and love. On the next mattress was a gal from San Francisco, she just newly single and enjoying her independence. Our host, the artist, shared her bedroom that weekend with a married dot-commer [29]from San Francisco. Yes, we are different, but we are also the same. The years of our youth say so.
The apartment was open and we talked late into the night, our voices carrying back and forth between the rooms as we laughed, cackling about things that would only be humorous to friends with this kind of history. The next morning, I awoke to a brilliant blue sky, beautifully contrasted by the earthy brown of the surrounding adobe [30]. It was Saturday and the art enthusiasts were out, so, with coffee in hand, I dropped off our host at work. I returned to find the others still in slumber, deep lines on their faces as evidence of a restful sleep.
We checked out town and headed to the airport to pick up the last straggler [31], who came in from San Francisco for one night. “ I wouldn't have missed this for anything,” she said, despite her 4 a.m. trip to the airport. That night we celebrated margaritas and Southwestern are, each of us gazing over at the faces around the table as we wondered, who would have thought the bonds of childhood could last this long? Some of us have been friends since the age of five, some since age twelve and, yet, here we are approaching the age of thirty. Quite rapidly, I might add.
The weekend consisted of long talks by the pool, wonderful meals, and a hike that brought the entire group to tears. Not tears of sadness or anger, but an outpouring of emotion over the sheer wonderment that we can be this close—twelve years after graduation—with such physical distance between us. It's heartbreaking that we can't spend our days together in the same neighborhood, walking the same streets, reading the same newspaper at the same coffee shop. But that's life, grown-up life.
Most amazing is the group's adaptability to one another. The months we spend apart are non-existent. No need to get reacquainted, we jump back in the saddle and it's as comfortable as ever. Old friends—friends with an ever-present sense of support and sisterhood, friends that know each other innately—are hard to come by and yet we remain as tight today as we were years ago, giggling in the back row of Mr. McKechnie's 9th grade math class.
Life today, however, is no math class. Our world, spinning slightly off its axis, is full of doubt, full of fear. Yet it reminds me—now, more than ever—how vital it is that we stay in close touch. We may have questions about our future, but we have true faith in our past, and though this reunion of friends has come to a close, we are already drawing up plans for the next one.
老朋友。他们会快嘴接完你想说的话，他们会记得你12岁那年走失的一只猫，他们会直言不讳你剪了个很烂的发型。最重要的是，他们会一直陪在你的左右——不论是亲自现身说法，还是一通午夜电话，他们就是那个与你一同分享美好时光，抑或度过艰难时期的人。可是，随着岁月的流逝，老朋友间已然越来越少见面，也愈来愈鲜有新的回忆留存。好在很早以前，我和高中女友们就立下誓约不让这样的情况出现，我们约定要再次相聚。
几个月前，我们利用周末，选在美国西南部小聚三天。我们从小一起在缅因州长大，这些年来一直都张罗着每年的聚会，可是常常因为彼此的时间冲突而一再延宕，终成哑果。今年，我们终于如愿以偿。
我们一行四人，其中两个来自旧金山，一个来自波士顿，还有一个来自西雅图，将一同飞往新墨西哥州的圣特菲，我们这群死党中有人在此定居，为一间画廊工作。两年前，因为觉得纽约的生活节奏太快，过得太失意，她选择搬来此地，其实更像是从之前的电影业中逃脱出来。艺术家的天性让她向往这里生机勃发的景象，爱上月下繁星点缀的夜空。她情愿在扬尘的土路上开着卡车，有只忠实的老狗在副驾的位子上，一路陪伴她。这一切如今都实现了，而且，她还收获了爱情，是个幸福的女人。
我们其余几个，都还生活在大城市里，这会儿一股旋风般汇聚到她身边，活脱猛然从女友小说的书页间跳出来。见了面就七嘴八舌、问长问短，用不到5分钟，我们就仿若重回15岁。我们自然而然地重温起年轻时的旧事，青春愁肠以及种种，但这次聚会的看头还不止这些。我们都有了全新的身份，或为人妻，或心有所属。我们更是商界女性、女艺术家、女性作家。我们不再是小女孩，也不再是刚毕业的女学生，我们已成为女人。
那一晚，我和波士顿女友睡在同一张充气床垫上。她会在翘首以待交通拥堵的间隙，不忘给我打上一通电话，告诉我她现在的生活状况和情感历程。旁边一张床垫上是旧金山女友，刚刚恢复单身，正享受一个人的独居时光。而我们的女主人，兼女艺术家，则在那个周末让出自己的卧室，和另一位在旧金山从事网络工作的已婚姐妹同住。的确，我们自身都有了变化，但有些东西却从未改变。那些青春岁月就是最好的证明。
房间是开放设计，我们集体聊到深夜，欢声笑语不时回荡整间屋子，也只有相识多年的老友走到一起，才会如此心领神会笑个没完吧。次日清晨醒来，碧空如洗，在周围土褐色房屋的映衬下，阳光格外明媚。因为这天是周六，艺术爱好者们出去活动的日子。于是，我手捧咖啡送我们的女主人出门，回来时看见其他人都还在睡梦中，脸上枕出的深痕说明她们睡得很香沉。
我们驱车出城，赶去机场接最后一个掉队的人，她正从旧金山赶来呆上一晚。“我怎么可能错过这次聚会呢，”她说，哪怕凌晨4点要赶往机场。当晚，我们喝着玛格丽特，吃着西南部美食，庆祝这难得的相聚。席间，我们彼此相顾，不禁感慨万千，谁曾想童年结下的友谊可以维系这么久？我们中有人自5岁起就是朋友了，有些12岁时才相识，而如今，我们都快30岁了。不得不说，时光真快。
那个周末的活动还包括泳池旁的促膝长谈，共享美味佳肴，以及令所有人泪湿的一次远足。这不是伤心或负气的泪水，而是为冥冥中无法割舍的这份情谊不能自持。毕业已经12年了，彼此相距那么遥远，可是我们却还能如此亲密。一想到我们不能日日毗邻而居，走过同一条街，坐在同一间咖啡店里看同一份报，心就隐隐作痛。但，这就是生活，成年后面对的生活。
最让人感到奇妙的是，我们这群死党竟毫无生分，仿佛我们分开的那些日子不曾真的存在过。无须重新热络，提鞍上马做回自己，感觉起来还是那么舒服。所谓老朋友，就是那些无论过去现在都一路支持你，让你感到姐妹情深的人，亦是那些真正懂得你所思所想的人。这样的人一生当中很难知遇，而如今我们还能亲密如故，就像九年级那年我们在麦基契尼先生的数学课上坐在教室后排咯咯傻笑时那样。
然而，生活如今已不似当年的数学课那般轻松了。我们的世界稍微偏离了既定的轨迹，充斥着疑虑和恐惧。而这些恰在此刻提醒了我，让我比过去更清晰地感到，我们能保持这份亲密是多么难能可贵。也许我们的未来还会遇到问题，但是过去赋予我们真正的信念。尽管这次聚会已接近尾声，我们却开始策划下一次见面了。
【美丽校训励我心】
“Princeton University: In the nation's service and in the service of all nations.”
“普林斯顿大学：效力国家，服务世界。”
美丽诗情
Forever Friends 永远的朋友
Carlo Martini
Sometimes in life
You find a special friend
Someone who changes your life
Just by being a part of it
Someone who makes you laugh
Until you can't stop
Someone who makes you believe
That there really is good in the world
Someone who convinces you
That there really is an unlocked door
Just waiting for you to open it
This is a forever friendship
When you're down
And the world seems dark and empty
Your forever friend lifts you in spirit
And makes that dark and empty world
Suddenly seem bright and full
Your forever friend gets you through
The hard times, the sad times
And the confused times
If you turn and walk away
Your forever friend follows
If you lose your way
Your forever friend guides you
And cheers you on
Your forever friend holds your hand
And tells you that things
Will be okay
And if you find such a friend
You feel happy and complete
You have a forever friend for life
And forever has no end
有时候于生命中
你会觅得一位知己
只消偶尔出现在你的生活里
他就能改变你的人生
他会令你欢笑
开怀得忘乎所以
他会给你信念
人间自有真情在
他会说服于你
面前有扇不上锁的门扉
正等待你去开启
这就是永远的朋友
当你失落时
世界因此黯淡无光失去意义
你永远的朋友会鼓舞你
于这黑暗空虚的世界中
顿时令你重归明亮充盈
你永远的朋友与你一起
度过这艰难困苦
摆脱混沌
如果你转身走开
你永远的朋友会跟随你
如果你失去方向
你永远的朋友会指引你
激励你一路向前
你永远的朋友会握着你的手
安慰你说
一切都会好好的
如果你觅得这样一位朋友
必将感到快乐知足
你的生命中从此有位永远的朋友
而永远没有尽头