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美丽英文(故事卷)-第3部分

小说: 美丽英文(故事卷) 字数: 每页4000字

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pus activities; and I jumped at the opportunity。
  About an hour into the first day of camp; amid the frenzy of icebreakers and forced interactions; I first noticed the boy under the tree。 He was small and skinny; and his obvious disfort and shyness made him appear frail and fragile。 Only fifty feet away; two hundred eager campers were bumping bodies; playing; joking and meeting each other; but the boy under the tree seemed to want to be anywhere other than where he was。 The desperate loneliness he radiated almost stopped me from approaching him; but I remembered the instructions from the senior staff to stay alert for campers who might feel left out。
  As I walked toward him; I said;“Hi; my name is Kevin; and I’m one of the counselors。 It’s nice to meet you。 How are you?” In a shaky; sheepish voice he reluctantly answered; “Okay; I guess。” I calmly asked him if he wanted to join the activities and meet some new people。 He quietly replied; “No; this is not really my thing。”
  I could sense that he was in a new world; that this whole experience was foreign to him。 But I somehow knew it wouldn’t be right to push him; either。 He didn’t need a pep talk; he needed a friend。 After several silent moments; my first interaction with the boy under the tree was over。
  At lunch the next day; I found myself leading camp songs at the top of my lungs for two hundred of my new friends。 The campers eagerly participated。 My gaze wandered over the mass of noise and movement and was caught by the image of the boy from under the tree; sitting alone; staring out the window。 I nearly forgot the words to the song I was supposed to be leading。 At my first opportunity; I tried again; with the same questions as before; “How are you doing? Are you okay?” To which he again replied; “Yeah; I’m all right。 I just don’t really get into this stuff。” As I left the cafeteria; I realized this was going to take more time and effort than I had thought—if it was even possible to get through to him at all。
  That evening at our nightly staff meeting; I made my concerns about him known。 I explained to my fellow staff members my impression of him and asked them to pay special attention and spend time with him when they could。
  The days I spend at camp each year fly by faster than any others I have known。 Thus; before I knew it; mid…week had dissolved into the final night of camp; and I was chaperoning the“last dance。” The students were doing all they could to savor every last moment with their new “best friends”—friends they would probably never see again。

树下的男孩(3)
As I watched the campers share their parting moments; I suddenly saw what would be one of the most vivid memories of my life。 The boy from under the tree; who had stared blankly out the kitchen window; was now a shirtless dancing wonder。 He owned the dance floor as he and two girls proceeded to cut a rug。 I watched as he shared meaningful; intimate time with people at whom he couldn’t even look just days earlier。 I couldn’t believe it was the same person。
  In October of my sophomore year; a late…night phone call pulled me away from my chemistry book。 A soft…spoken; unfamiliar voice asked politely; “Is Kevin there?”
  “You’re talking to him; who’s this?”
  “This is Tom Johnson’s mom。 Do you remember Tommy from leadership camp?”
  The boy under the tree。 How could I not remember?
  “Yes; I do;” I said。 “He’s a very nice young man。 How is he?”
  An abnormally long pause followed; then Mrs。 Johnson said; “My Tommy was walking home from school this week when he was hit by a car and killed。” Shocked; I offered my condolences。
  “I just wanted to call you;” she said; “because Tommy mentioned you so many times。 I wanted you to know that he went back to school this fall with confidence。 He made new friends。 His grades went up。 And he even went out on a few dates。 I just wanted to thank you for making a difference for Tom。 The last few months were the best few months of his life。”
  In that instant; I realized how easy it is to give a bit of yourself every day。 You may never know how much each gesture may mean to someone else。 I tell this story as often as I can; and when I do; I urge others to look out for their own “boy under the tree”。
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感受异国的阳光(1)
佚名
  今天周几,周二还是周三?她一直带着学生们进行那似乎永无休止的复习。这件事我好像昨天刚刚做过啊?还是去年做的?烦死了,怎么都赶到一块儿了。“史密斯小姐,我去下洗手间可以吗?”正要迈腿跑出去的乔治,停下来问道。我是第几次听到这样的话了?她想着,随口答道:“好的。”然后她看着他跑出了教室。
  她坐在桌旁,眼睛凝视着学生,脑子却不停地在想下班后该做些什么事情。我今晚该去健身房或是该去市场买点儿吃的东西。她机械地继续上她的课,给学生讲字母“a”。“‘a’怎么读?”“a,a,a……”学生们异口同声干巴巴地读着。时间一分一秒地过去了,似乎在嘲笑她这无聊单调的一天。
  该下课了吧?正想着,教室的电话响了,她叹口气,起身,走过学生的课桌去接电话。话筒那端的声音似乎传自百英里之外。哦,我多希望我现在不是在这儿,而身处异国他乡啊。她的思绪飞到了异国情调浓郁的墨西哥卡波海滩,去年她在那儿度过了愉快的暑假:慵懒地躺在沙滩上,任由阵阵微风轻吻她的肌肤,那种惬意、恬静的感觉,至今记忆犹新。
  “史密斯小姐,你在听我讲话吗?”秘书有点儿不耐烦地问道。“哦,抱歉。刚才你说什么了?”“麻烦你让卡拉到我办公室来一趟。”秘书更加不耐烦地说。“哦,当然可以。”说着;她挂断了电话。她转过身来叫了卡拉的名字。卡拉是这个班上众多的贫困生之一。她抬起头,松散的头发像堆稻草,满脸污垢,活像《绿野仙踪》里的稻草人。“你到办公室去一趟。”她对慢慢抬起头的卡拉说道。“为什么让我去?”卡拉嘀咕道。“让你去你就去——快去吧!”卡拉出去了,她匆忙地转回身。卡拉是去领免费校服的。如果有人打电话来说些好听的或是对我做的这些令人讨厌的工作表示感谢该多好。她叹了口气,走回去,学生们都耐心地等着她。
  这极其单调的工作重复了一下午。最后,解放的钟声终于响了。她把学生带出教室,就像母鸡带着小鸡崽儿回窝似的。她看到学生的妈妈们都在铁门外热切地期待着。当她路过走廊时,满载西班牙音乐气息的空气迎面扑来。她欣慰地看着孩子们离开,回到充满欢声笑语的家,而自己却不得不重又回到那无尽的单调和无聊之中。
  “夫人,您好,可以打扰您几分钟吗?”她扭过头,一个窘迫的男子出现在她面前,他那棕色的面庞布满皱纹。“谢谢您给予我孙子胡里奥的帮助。”他用蹩脚的英语说道。她忽然想起了胡里奥,外表看起来那么不易接近,后来渐渐地敞开了他充满渴盼的内心世界。她想胡里奥一定在暗下决心努力学好外语,并会为每次进步而欢欣鼓舞。这位祖父也和他的孙子一样吗?她抬头看了看这位老人,很快便找到了两人的共同之处。“谢谢您,夫人!”老人用那只饱经沧桑的手,紧紧握住她的手,他的热情深深地感染了她。很快,他把手缩了回去,走开了。当他渐渐远去时,她想到了异国的阳光,而且也意识到了,异国的阳光其实就近在咫尺。
  ■ 心灵小语
  阳光给人温暖,令人惬意,同时也象征着希望。文中的老师帮助一名看似孤僻的学生找到了自信,给生活在贫困中的他以希望。而这种善良的付出所得到的感激,令她感悟到,原来无须远行,同样能够感受异国阳光所带来的恬静感觉。
  A Grandfather’s Touch
  Anonymous
  What day is it today? Is it Tuesday or Thursday? This thought raced through her mind as she sat back with her students going over the lesson that never seemed to end。 Didn’t I just do this yesterday? Or was it a year ago? Hell; everything seemed to jumble1 together anymore。 “Miss Smith; can I go to the bathroom?”Jorge asked; as he proceeded to jump from one foot to another; holding himself。 How many times have I heard this? She wondered as she abruptly said; “Yes” and watched as he raced out of the room。。 最好的txt下载网

感受异国的阳光(2)
Sitting at the table she gazed at her students while thinking of what she would do after work。 Maybe I’ll go to the gym or stop at the market for something to eat tonight。 Mechanically she continued with her lesson on the short letter“a” with her students。 “The letter‘a’ makes what sound?”“a; a; a”; the students sang together going through the empty motions。 The clock dragged away the minutes teasing her with the tediousness of the day。
  Won’t it end? She thought as the phone rang out its morse code for her room。 Sighing she stood up and walked through the maze of students desks to get to the phone。 Picking up the receiver the other voice seemed a hundred miles away。 Oh; how I wish I were anywhere but here。 Her

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