友谊：铭记恩惠 忘记伤害

　　　　　　　　　　　　　 Sand and Stone
A story goes that two friends were walking through the desert. During some point of the journey they had an argument, and one friend slapped the other one in the face. The one who got slapped was hurt, but without saying anything, he wrote in the sand with his finger: "TODAY MY BEST FRIEND SLAPPED ME IN THE FACE."

They kept on walking until they found an oasis, where they decided to take a bath. The one, who had been slapped, got stuck in the mire and started drowning, but the friend saved him. After the friend recovered from the near drowning, he wrote on a stone with a knife: "TODAY MY BEST FRIEND SAVED MY LIFE."

The friend who had slapped and saved his best friend asked him with surprise, "After I hurt you, you wrote in the sand and now, you write on a stone, why?"

The other friend replied: "When someone hurts us, we should write it down in sand where winds of forgiveness can erase it away. But, when someone does something good for us, we must engrave it in stone where no wind can ever erase it."

　　中文：
　　有这样一个故事：两个朋友正徒步在沙漠中旅行，途中两人发生了争执，其中一个扇了另一个人一记耳光，那位被扇的朋友很伤心，然而他一言不发地用手指在沙滩上写下了： “ 今天我最好的朋友扇了我一个耳光。 ”
　　他们继续往前走，终于来到了一片绿洲。他们决定洗去身上的浮尘。先前被扇耳光的那位一不小心陷入深潭之中，差点被淹死，他的朋友连忙相救。被救起后，他用一把小刀在石头上刻下了： “ 今天我最好的朋友救了我一命。 ”

　　先前打他耳光，后来又救了他的这位朋友好奇地问： “ 为什么我打了你以后，你写在沙滩上，而现在却刻在石头上呢？ ”

　　朋友回答道： “ 当受到伤害时，要写在沙滩上，让风来吹散它、抚平它；而受到的恩惠则必须刻在石头上，任何风都不能抹灭它！ ”

心灵鸡汤：生命的过客

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, tan tiles. He kept talking, telling me why he was leaving, ex
plaining 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 in to the bone china. That was what my life had been like, endless omissions of 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 all 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 promise and 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 nights, 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, 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 in earth, a little understanding of my physical being. He has only, a little piece of me.

　　当他告诉我他要离开的时候，我感觉自己就像花瓶裂成了碎片，跌落在茶色瓷砖地板上。他一直在说话，解释着为什么要离开，说什么这是最好的，我可以做得更好，都是他的错，与我无关。虽然这些话我已经听上好几千遍了，可每次听完都让我很受伤，或许在这样巨大的打击面前没有人能做到无动于衷。
　　他走了，我尝试着继续过自己的生活。我烧开水，拿出红色杯子，看着咖啡粉末一点点地落入骨灰瓷的杯子里。这正是我自己的鲜活写照，不断地往下掉咖啡粉末，却从来没有真正地泡成一杯咖啡。
　　水开了，水壶发出警报声，我假装没有听见。迈克的离去也是一样，突如其来，并且无可挽回。要知道，我宁愿忍受分与不分的煎熬，也不愿意以这样的方式被宣判 “ 死刑 ” 。想着想着我就哑然失笑，自己竟然为一杯咖啡有如此多的人生感怀，我自己一定是老了。
　　可是镜子里回瞪着我的那个女孩还是那么年轻啊！明目皓齿，充满了前途与希望，光明的未来在向她招手。没关系的，反正我也从来没有爱过迈克。何况，生命中还有比爱更重要的东西在等待着我，我对自己坚持说。我将咖啡罐的盖子盖好，也将所有关于迈克的记忆尘封起来。
　　那天晚上，出乎意料的是，他并没有入到我的梦中。在梦里，我飞过田野和森林，俯瞰着大地。突然间，我掉了下来 …… 醒来后才发现原来自己被猎人打中了，但是令我坠落的不是他的子弹，而是他的灵魂。我后来才渐渐明白，原来迈克就是那个使我坠落的猎人，而我是那只渴望飞翔的小鸟。到了第二天晚上，我仍然做了类似的梦，但是猎人不见了，我一直在自由地飞翔，直到遇上另外一只小鸟和我比翼双飞。我开始意识到，总有那么一只鸟，那么一个人在前面等我，这个人可能是我的爱人，可能只是朋友，但一定是知我懂我的人，这令我感觉如释重负。我想起曾经觉得自己像花瓶一样裂开了，才意识到原来自己已经把自己修理好了。迈克只是我生命过程中的小小过客，他仅仅了解我的表面，他仅仅是我生命中的小小一部分。

一段感人的

Just separated with Blue, Blue is a very nice girl, beautiful and gentle. Many friends said that I was a fool to let her go. Even though it was hard, I still had to let her go.
The 1st day
Using her blanket and covering herself tightly, she didn’t get up. Her dorm mates were afraid to go in and comfort her. She didn’t eat anything the whole day, didn’t wash her face or brush her teeth. At night, I could hear her crying beneath the blanket.
The 2nd day
She ate today, forced down by her roommates. Her eyes were red. I always called her “Cry baby”. She always squirmed her mouth and retorted: “No, I’m not.”
The 3rd day
Today, she dressed very sexy, walked into a bar and drank a lot of alcohol. Using tempting moves, she surveyed the room. Many men came up to her and flirted with her telling her how beautiful she was. She drank a lot more. When a much older man, old enough to be her father, walked up and said: “Miss, let me take you home,” she splashed her drink onto his face. As the older man got ready to slap her, Mu showed up and saved Blue. I know all this because I was watching from a corner in the bar.
The 4th day
Today, she got up really early. After busying around all morning, she locked herself inside the bathroom. When her roommates opened the door, they were amazed: “So clean.”
The 5th day
She began studying. She had done very well in school before.However, when we got together, her grades deteriorated. It is good to focus on something else as it will improve recovery.
Three months later
She became president of the Student Vnion. She is becoming more and more able. She also becomes more open. Soon, she will need to prepare for graduate school.
One year later
There are many men beside her, many who are better than me. She never takes notice of them, but she gets along with Ling very well. There are rumors about them in school. She treats him like an elder brother, but rumor cannot be blocked.
Three years later
She is getting married. The groom is Ling. She is writing wedding invitations. After she wrote one, two, and three … 12th card, she bent over the desk and tears fell down uncontrollably. I stepped forward and saw that on all the invitations, the groom’s name was mine.
I want to cry too, but ghost cannot cry. I do not have any tears.
Three years ago, when I was carrying her birthday cake crossing a street, a car crashed into me.

　　和蓝分手了，蓝是个很好的女孩，很漂亮也很温柔，虽然很多朋友说我离开她很傻，可我还是放手了，虽然我很舍不得。
　　 第一天
　　她没有起床，把自己用被子捂得严严实实的，她宿舍的人都不敢去安慰她，她一天都没有吃饭，连刷牙洗脸都没有，晚上睡觉的时候我听到她在被子里抽泣。
　 　第二天
　　今天她吃饭了，是她的舍友强制性让她吃的。她的眼眶红红的，我总说她是个爱哭鬼，她每次都噘着小嘴说她不是。
　 　第三天
　　今天她穿得很妖艳，走进一家酒吧，喝了好多酒，用一种很具诱惑力的眼光环视全场，好多人上来搭腔 “ 小姐，你好漂亮啊。 ” 她喝了很多，当一个年纪可以做她爸爸的男人对她说 “ 小姐，我送你回家吧 ” 的时候她把手中的酒全泼在他的脸上，那个该死的老头扬起他的手掌就要打下去的时候，小睦来了，救了蓝。这一切我都知道，我就在酒吧的一个角落里看着。
　 　第四天
　　今天她早早就起床了，忙忙碌碌了一上午，然后把自己关在浴室里好久，当舍友们踹门进去的时候都惊呼道： “ 好干净啊！ ”
　　 第五天
　　她开始学习了，其实她原来学习很好，我们开始后受我影响她的成绩也退步了，这也好，转移一下注意力，恢复得也快。
　　 三个月后
　　她成了学生会主席，越来越能干，也开朗了不少。马上她就要考研了。
　　 一年后
　　在她身边的男生很多，比我优秀的也很多，可她根本没在意过，不过她和凌关系很好，校园里谣传他们的关系很暧昧。她只是把他当哥哥，可是流言是挡不住的。
　　 三年后
　　她要结婚了，新郎是凌，她在写结婚请帖，一张，两张，三张 …… ，写到第十二张的时候她哭了，趴在桌上眼泪完全抑制不住，我上前一看，所有的喜帖上新郎写的都是我的名字。
　　我也很想哭，可是鬼魂是不能哭的，我没有眼泪。
　　三年前，我横穿马路，遇上车祸，手里提着要给她庆祝生日的蛋糕。

我还会选择你做我的儿子

In the doorway of my home, I looked closely at the face of my 23-year-old son, Daniel, his backpack by his side. We were saying good-bye. In a few hours he would be flying to France. He would be staying there for at least a year to learn another language and experience life in a different country.

It was a transitional time in Daniel's life, a passage, a step from college into the adult world. I wanted to leave him some words that would have some meaning, some significance beyond the moment.

But nothing came from my lips. No sound broke the stillness of my beachside home. Outside, I could hear the shrill cries of sea gulls as they circled the ever changing surf on Long Island. Inside, I stood frozen and quiet, looking into the searching eyes of my son.

What made it more difficult was that I knew this was not the first time I had let such a moment pass. When Daniel was five, I took him to the school-bus stop on his first day of kindergarten. I felt the tension in his hand holding mine as the bus turned the corner. I saw colour flush his cheeks as the bus pulled up. He looked at me-as he did now.

What is it going to be like, Dad? Can I do it? Will I be okay? And then he walked up the steps of the bus and disappeared inside. And the bus drove away. And I had said nothing.

A decade or so later, a similar scene played itself out. With his mother, I drove him to William and Mary College in Virginia. His first night, he went out with his new schoolmates, and when he met us the next morning, he was sick. He was coming down with mononucleosis, but we could not know that then. We thought he had a hangover.

In his room, Dan lay stretched out on his bed as I started to leave for the trip home. I tried to think of something to say to give him courage and confidence as he started this new phase of life.

Again, words failed me. I mumbled something like, "Hope you feel better Dan." And I left.

Now, as I stood before him, I thought of those lost opportunities. How many times have we all let such moments pass? A boy graduates from school, a daughter gets married. We go through the motions of the ceremony, but we don't seek out our children and find a quiet moment to tell them what they have meant to us. Or what they might expect to face in the years ahead.

How fast the years had passed. Daniel was born in New Orleans, LA., in 1962, slow to walk and talk, and small of stature. He was the tiniest in his class, but he developed a warm, outgoing nature and was popular with his peers. He was coordinated and agile, and he became adept in sports.

Baseball gave him his earliest challenge. He was an outstanding pitcher in Little League, and eventually, as a senior in high school, made the varsity, winning half the team's games with a record of five wins and two losses. At graduation, the coach named Daniel the team's most valuable player.

His finest hour, though, came at a school science fair. He entered an exhibit showing how the circulatory system works. It was primitive and crude, especially compared to the fancy, computerized, blinking-light models entered by other students. My wife, Sara, felt embarrassed for him.

It turned out that the other kids had not done their own work-their parents had made their exhibits. As the judges went on their rounds, they found that these other kids couldn't answer their questions. Daniel answered every one. When the judges awarded the Albert Einstein Plaque for the best exhibit, they gave it to him.

By the time Daniel left for college he stood six feet tall and weighed 170 pounds. He was muscular and in superb condition, but he never pitched another inning, having given up baseball for English literature. I was sorry that he would not develop his athletic talent, but proud that he had made such a mature decision.

One day I told Daniel that the great failing in my life had been that I didn't take a year or two off to travel when I finished college. This is the best way, to my way of thinking, to broaden oneself and develop a larger perspective on life. Once I had married and begun working, I found that the dream of living in another culture had vanished.

Daniel thought about this. His friends said that he would be insane to put his career on hold. But he decided it wasn't so crazy. After graduation, he worked as a waiter at college, a bike messenger and a house painter. With the money he earned, he had enough to go to Paris.

The night before he was to leave, I tossed in bed. I was trying to figure out something to say. Nothing came to mind. Maybe, I thought, it wasn't necessary to say anything.

What do es it matter in the course of a life-time if a father never tells a son what he really thinks of him? But as I stood before Daniel, I knew that it does matter. My father and I loved each other. Yet, I always regretted never hearing him put his feelings into words and never having the memory of that moment. Now, I could feel my palms sweat and my throat tighten. Why is it so hard to tell a son something from the heart? My mouth turned dry, and I knew I would be able to get out only a few words clearly.

“Daniel," I said, "if I could have picked, I would have picked you."

That's all I could say. I wasn't sure he understood what I meant. Then he came toward me and threw his arms around me. For a moment, the world and all its people vanished, and there was just Daniel and me in our home by the sea.

He was saying something, but my eyes misted over, and I couldn't understand what he was saying. All I was aware of was the stubble on his chin as his face pressed against mine. And then, the moment ended. I went to work, and Daniel left a few hours later with his girlfriend.

That was seven weeks ago, and I think about him when I walk along the beach on weekends. Thousands of miles away, somewhere out past the ocean waves breaking on the deserted shore, he might be scurrying across Boulevard Saint Germain, strolling through a musty hallway of the Louvre, bending an elbow in a Left Bank café.

What I had said to Daniel was clumsy and trite. It was nothing. And yet, it was everything.

　　中文：

　　在家门口，我凝视着 23 岁的儿子丹尼尔的脸，他的背包就放在身旁。他的背包就放在身旁。我们即将道别几个小时之后，他就要飞往法国，在那里待上至少一年的时间。他要学习另一种语言学习法语，并在一个全新的国度体验新的生活。

　　这是丹尼尔生命中的一个过渡时期，也是他从象牙塔进入成人世界踏出的一步。我希望送给他几句话，几句能令让他受用终身的话语。

　　但我竟一句话也说不出来。我们的房子坐落在海边，此刻屋里静寂无声。屋外，海鸥在波涛澎湃的长岛海域上空盘旋，我能听见它们发出的尖叫。我就这样站在屋里，默默地注视着儿子那双困惑的眼睛。

　　更糟的是，我很清楚自己已经不是第一次让如此重要的时光白白流逝。丹尼尔五岁的时候，那是幼儿园开学的第一天，我领着他来到校车的上落点。当校车在拐角处出现时，他的小手紧紧地攥着我，我感觉到了他的不安。校车到站那一刻，丹尼尔双颊发红，抬头望着我 —— 就像现在这样。

　　爸爸，接下来会怎样呢？我能行么？我会没事吗？说着，他上了校车，消失在我的视野里。车开走了，我却始终开不了口。

　　十多年后，这一幕再次上演。我与妻子开车送丹尼尔到维吉尼亚州的威廉玛丽学院读书。抵达在学校的第一个晚上，丹尼尔和舍友们一起外出。次日清晨再见到丹尼尔时，他感到身体不适。其实当时他体内已出现白血球增多，但当时我们并不知道，以为他只是喝多了而已。

　　我正准备启程回家时，丹尼尔正在宿舍的床上躺着。我很想说一些鼓励的话语，在他的新生活伊始给他勇气与信心。

　　但是，我再一次语塞。我只是咕哝了一句 “ 希望你快点好起来，丹尼尔 ” 就转身离开了。

　　此时此刻，站在丹尼尔面前，我想起了那些被错过的时刻。究竟多少次，我们让这些珍贵的时刻白白溜走？例如儿子的毕业典礼，女儿的婚礼等等。我们疲于应付这些热闹的场面，却没有在人群中逮住孩子，找个安静的地方，亲口说出他们对我们有多么重要，或者与他们聊聊未来的人生。

　　时光飞逝，岁月如梭。 1962 年小丹尼尔出生于洛杉矶新奥尔良市。他比同龄人稍迟学会走路和说话，个子也长得不高。但是，尽管丹尼尔是班里最瘦小的一个，他性格热情外向，人缘甚广。由于协调性好且行动敏捷，他很快成为了运动高手。

　　棒球是丹尼尔人生的第一项挑战。他是棒球队里出色的投手。高三的时候，丹尼尔带领学校棒球队所向披靡，创下了七局五胜的记录。在毕业典礼上，棒球教练宣布他为最有价值球员。

　　然而，丹尼尔最辉煌的时刻却是在一次校园科技展上。丹尼尔带着他的循环电路系统参加了这次展览。与其他参展学生的那些新奇怪异、电脑操控、熠熠发光的模型相比，丹尼尔的作品相形见绌。我的妻子莎拉都替儿子感到脸红。

　　后来才得知其他孩子的作品并非自己完成，而是父母代劳的。当评委在现场评审的时候，他们发现这些孩子都对参展作品一无所知，只有丹尼尔对答如流。于是他们把本次展览的最佳作品奖颁给了丹尼尔，并授予艾伯特 · 爱因斯坦奖牌。

　　丹尼尔刚进大学时已经是个身高六尺，重一百七十磅的堂堂男子汉了。自从放弃棒球而选择英国文学后，肌肉结实、身体强壮的丹尼尔却再没打过棒球了。我为他放弃了自己的体育特长感到惋惜，但更为他做出如此慎重的决定感到骄傲。

　　有一次，我告诉丹尼尔我一生中最大的失误就是大学刚毕业时，没能抽出一两年的时间周游列国。在我看来，这是开拓视野，形成豁达人生的最佳途径。我成家工作以后，体验异国文化的梦想就烟消云散了。

　　听了这番话后，丹尼尔若有所思。丹尼尔的朋友告诫他说，为了游历世界而把事业搁在一边，这是非常愚蠢的。但丹尼尔并不认同。毕业后，他在大学校园端盘子，骑单车送报纸，还替人刷墙。通过打工挣钱，他攒足了去巴黎的路费。

　　丹尼尔离开的前夜，我在床上辗转难眠。我想准备好明天要说的话，但脑袋里却一片空白。也许根本就无须赘言，我安慰自己。

　　即使一位父亲一辈子都不曾亲口告诉儿子自己对他的看法，那又如何？然而，当我面对着丹尼尔，我知道到这非常重要。我爱我的父亲，他也爱我。但我从未听过他说心里话，更没有这些感人的回忆。为此，我总心怀遗憾。现在，我手心冒汗，喉咙打结。为什么对儿子说几句心里话如此困难？我的嘴唇变得干涩，我想我顶多能够清晰地吐出几个字而已。

　　 “ 丹尼尔， ” 我终于迸出了一句， “ 如果上帝让我选择谁是我的儿子，我始终会选你。 ”

　　这是我惟一能想到的话了。我不晓得丹尼尔是否理解了这句话，但他扑过来抱住了我。那一刻，世界消失了，只剩下我和丹尼尔站在海边的小屋里。

　　丹尼尔也在说着什么，但泪水已经模糊了我的双眼，我一个字也没听进去。只是当他的脸向我贴过来时，我感觉到了他下巴的胡子茬。然后，一切恢复原样。我继续工作，丹尼尔几个小时后带着女友离开了。

　　七个星期过去了，周末在海边散步时我会想起丹尼尔。横跨拍打着这个荒芜海岸的茫茫大海，几百英里之外的某个地方，丹尼尔也许正飞奔着穿越圣热蒙大道，或者在罗浮宫散发着霉味的走廊上徘徊，又或者此时正托着下巴坐在左岸咖啡馆里憩息。

　　我对丹尼尔说的那些话既晦涩又老套，空洞无文。然而，它却道出了一切。