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We had moved from Cairo to Mt. Vernon, Illinois, away from my grandmother when I was eight years old. I missed her terribly. I was told I was her favorite grandchild; she was my favorite “Granny.” She was my Father’s mother.
Two years later my mother and father separated and they were soon divorced. I felt as if my world was falling apart. My heart ached for that part of me that was slipping away. Mother must have sensed my longing, for she would take my little brother and me back to visit my Granny on occasions, even after the divorce.
I was always aware Granny loved us. It was something you could feel with your heart, even when your world was turned upside down.
She didn’t live in a fancy house or have expensive things, but I never noticed; I just knew she loved me and I loved her back.
We had lived, for a time, next door to her and grandpa in a duplex while my father was away during World War II.
Granny had never had very much in the way of money or material things. But it was the little things she gave me that had always mattered. Things like letting me dip my fingers in the sugar bowl, which was always sitting on her table or the coffee she let me sip from her cup. She allowed me to sit on top of her kitchen table as I partook of those privileges.
Granny took the time to explain the function of her weather vane, hanging on the wall, which predicted the upcoming weather. How that little wooden boy and girl knew what door to come out of, when it was going to rain, amazed me. But Granny understood.
She also had a vinegar cruet that sat high on a shelf that was beautiful, in my eyes; I asked if I could have it someday. It was given to me in a box after her funeral. She remembered; love is like that.
I used to spend a lot of time with Granny when we lived in Cairo, next door to her and granndpa, in the duplex. But times and things had changed. Grandpa had died; we lived a hundred miles away, and dad, her youngest son, my daddy, no longer lived with us. I didn’t get to see dad much, and I don’t know if Granny got to see him very often either. But, he was her son, and I knew she loved him. Love is like that; it can see past the pain.
Though she didn’t have much, neither did we, but she did something for my brother, Tommie and me. I will always remember; she saved her pennies in a glass jar. I am sure Granny could have used those pennies herself but she saved them to give us when we came to visit. Because I was the oldest I was in charge of dividing the pennies equally between my brother and me.“One for you, one for me,” I would repeat until the jar was empty.
I don’t remember how much we collected on our visits, nor was the amount important. It was the idea that she remembered us, and cared about us, when we were away from her.
Those memories, of when I was a child, still give me warm fuzzy feelings on days that I need them. A Granny’s love stays with a grandchild, down through the years, even when that child becomes a grandma herself. I often wonder, after all those years, when I am lucky enough to find a penny lying on the ground somewhere, if it could possible be Granny tossing me pennies from heaven.
翻译：
八岁的时候，我们一家从开罗搬到了伊利诺斯州的弗农山，从此远离了祖母。我非常想念她。大家说我是她最疼爱的孙女，而她也是我最爱的奶奶。她，是爸爸的母亲。
两年后，爸爸妈妈分居，很快他们便离婚了。我觉得我的世界好像崩溃了。原本属于我生活的一部分正在远去，这让我心痛不已。妈妈一定感觉到了我的'渴望，于是她时常带我和弟弟去看奶奶，即使是在离婚之后。
我一直知道奶奶深爱着我们。即使在你的世界被彻底颠覆时，这种爱也是可以用心感受的到的。
她住的房子并不豪华，也没有贵重的东西，但我从没在意过这些，我只知道她爱我，而我也爱她。
曾经有一段时间，我们和爷爷奶奶一起住在一栋复式公寓，当时爸爸参加了二战。
奶奶从来没有很多钱，物质上的东西也不多。但正是一些小事让我记忆深刻。比如那只总是放在桌上的糖碗，她曾经让我把手指伸进去蘸着吃，她还把自己的咖啡给我喝。这些时候，她都允许我坐在餐桌上。
奶奶耐心地向我解释过天气风向标的功能，它挂在墙上，用以预测未来的天气。风向标上的木制小男孩和小女孩怎么知道从哪个门出来，什么时候会下雨，这些都让我觉得惊奇。但是奶奶都懂。
她还有一个在我看来很漂亮的醋瓶，放在高高的架子上。我曾问过她有一天能不能把这个瓶给我。在她的葬礼过后，这个瓶子被放在一个盒子里交给了我。她还记得我说的话，爱就是这样。
我们在开罗的复式公寓跟爷爷奶奶住隔壁的时候，我经常和奶奶呆在一起。但是时光飞逝，物是人非。爷爷去世了，我们住在一百英里之外，而爸爸——她最小的儿子——也不和我们住在一起了。我和爸爸见面不多，也不知道奶奶是不是经常见他。但是，他是她的儿子，我知道她爱他。爱就是这样，它能够超越痛苦。
尽管她和我们一样都不宽裕，但还是尽己所能地为我和弟弟汤米做些事情。我永远都会记得；她把零钱存放在一个玻璃罐中。我知道奶奶本可以花掉这些零钱，但是她却总是把它们攒下来，在我们去看望她的时候分给我们。我是姐姐，所以负责把这些零钱平分给弟弟和自己。
“一个给你，一个给我，”我一直重复这句话，直到罐子里的硬币分完为止。
我记不得这些零钱我们总共拿过多少，其实数目并不重要。它是一份心意，表示我们不在奶奶身边的时候，她还记挂着我们，关心着我们。在需要爱的鼓励的日子里，这些童年记忆还能给我温暖的模糊的感觉。多年来，奶奶的爱一直跟随着孙女，甚至直到孙女自己也做了奶奶。经过这些年，每当我运气好，发现地上躺着一枚硬币时，我还常常会想，它或许是奶奶从天堂抛给我的。
When Adam and Eve wereexpelledfrom Eden, there was an incident when the flames of a blazing sword of an angel, who had sent them away, burned a birds' nest.
The birds were all burned to death, but a new bird was born from one of theruddilyheated eggs. This means that the unique 'Phoenix' was born.
The phoenix builds its nest in Arabia, and there is a myth that it set fire to its own nest once every 100 years. Among those ruddy eggs heated by the fire, a new Phoenix comes to be born again.
The phoenix flies as fast as a ray of light, its feathers are ofdazzlingbeauty, and the sound of its voice is very sweet.
When a mother sits next to her baby's cradle and dandles the baby, the Phoenix comes down to the baby's pillow, and the glaring feathers of Phoenix make a halo around the baby's head. The phoenix flies around rooms of poor people,sprinklessunshine, and carries the fragrance of violets into the rooms.
The phoenix stays not only in Arabia but it flies around the far North Pole, broad field, above the rivers where the sunshine falls in coal mines and in our front yards where beautiful flowers bloom.
On the carriage of the Greek tragic poet, Thespis, the Phoenix became atalkativecrow, for the troubadours of Island it played the harp disguised as a swan, and on the shoulder of Shakespeare the phoenix whispered xxxeternityxxx as it was the Odin's crow.
The phoenix sang beautiful songs, and people kissed its shining fallen feathers from its wings. Even though the Phoenix came from glorious Paradise, people may not see the Phoenix because they are busy with seeingsparrows.
The bird of the Paradise! Born once every 100 years, dies in flames! When it was born under the tree of wisdom in the garden of the Paradise, God kissed the Phoenix and gave him a name. That was xxxPoetry and Artxxx.
Once upon a time, there lived a monkey in the woods. The monkey climbed up the tree and looked down at the river everyday.
One day, the monkey saw fishermen throw a net over the river. He watched how the fishermen caught fish.
Sometime after, the fishermen left the net and went to have lunch. Then, the monkey climbed down from the tree and went to the riverside. The monkey was planning to throw the net like the fishermen did.
The monkey was confident since he was good at imitating. Yet, the net wound around the monkey when he touched it. Tied up in the net, the monkey fell into the water.
The monkey regretted his behavior, but it was too late. xxxI should have learned how to use the net before touching it. After believing my the prowess and showing off, I am in a bad fix.xxx The monkey who did not behave carefully drowned in the water.
I think that, from a biological standpoint, human life almost reads like a poem. It has its own rhythm and beat, its internal cycles of growth and decay. It begins with innocent childhood, followed by awkward adolescence trying awkwardly to adapt itself to mature society, with its young passions and follies, its ideals and ambitions; then it reaches a manhood of intense activities, profiting from experience and learning more about society and human nature; at middle age, there is a slight easing of tension, a mellowing of character like the ripening of fruit or the mellowing of good wine, and the gradual acquiring of a more tolerant, more cynical and at the same time a kindlier view of life; then In the sunset of our life, the endocrine glands decrease their activity, and if we have a true philosophy of old age and have ordered our life pattern according to it, it is for us the age of peace and security and leisure and contentment; finally, life flickers out and one goes into eternal sleep, never to wake up again.
One should be able to sense the beauty of this rhythm of life, to appreciate, as we do in grand symphonies, its main theme, its strains of conflict and the final resolution. The movements of these cycles are very much the same in a normal life, but the music must be provided by the inpidual himself. In some souls, the discordant note becomes harsher and harsher and finally overwhelms or submerges the main melody. Sometimes the discordant note gains so much power that the music can no longer go on, and the inpidual shoots himself with a pistol or jump into a river. But that is because his original leitmotif has been hopelessly over-showed through the lack of a good self-education. Otherwise the normal human life runs to its normal end in kind of dignified movement and procession. There are sometimes in many of us too many staccatos or impetuosos, and because the tempo is wrong, the music is not pleasing to the ear; we might have more of the grand rhythm and majestic tempo o the Ganges, flowing slowly and eternally into the sea.
No one can say that life with childhood, manhood and old age is not a beautiful arrangement; the day has its morning, noon and sunset, and the year has its seasons, and it is good that it is so. There is no good or bad in life, except what is good according to its own season. And if we take this biological view of life and try to live according to the seasons, no one but a conceited fool or an impossible idealist can deny that human life can be lived like a poem. Shakespeare has expressed this idea more graphically in his passage about the seven stages of life, and a good many Chinese writers have said about the same thing. It is curious that Shakespeare was never very religious, or very much concerned with religion. I think this was his greatness; he took human life largely as it was, and intruded himself as little upon the general scheme of things as he did upon the characters of his plays. Shakespeare was like Nature itself, and that is the greatest compliment we can pay to a writer or thinker. He merely lived, observed life and went away.
It was a cold winter farmer found a snake on the ground. It was nearly dead by cold. The Farmer was a kind man. Hepicked up thesnake carefully and put it under the coat. Soon the snake Began to move and it raised its mouth and bit the farmer. xxxOh, My god!xxx said the farmer, xxxI save your life, but you thank me in that way. You must die.xxx Then he killed the snake with a stick. At last he died, too.
Air is all around us. It is around us as we walk and play. From the time we were born air is around us on every side. When we sit down, it is around us. When we go to bed, air is also around us. We live in air. We can live without food or water for a few days, but we cannot live for more than a few minutes without air. We take in air. When we are working or running we need more air. When we are asleep, we need less air. We live in air, but we cannot see it. We can only feel it when it is moving. Moving air is called wind. How can we make air move? Here is one way. Hold an open book in front of your face,close it quickly. What can you feel? What you feel is air.
Today is Sunday! On Sundays, I usually play the flute. My father usually reads the newspaper. My mother usually cleans the house. But today my mother is in bed. She is ill. My father has to do the housework. Now, he is cleaning the house. xxxSam, can you help me?xxx xxxYes, Dad!xxx Now, we're washing the car. Where's my sister, Amy? She is playing my flute. What a lucky girl!
Tony is seven years old. He is an honest and polite boy. One day, it was Sunday. Tony, his sister and his mother stayed at home. He was watching TV and his sister was reading books. His mother was washing clothes. Just then, his father came back with a bag
of pears. Tony likes pears very much and he wanted
to eat one. His mother gave him four and said, xxxLet's share them.xxx xxxWhich pear do you want, Tony?xxx asked his mother. xxxThe biggest one, mum.xxx xxxWhat?xxx said his mother, xxxYou should be polite and want the smallest one.xxx xxxShould I tell a lie just to be polite, mum?xxx
A painter hangs his or her finished pictures on a wall, and everyone can see it. A composer writes a work, but no one can hear it until it is performed. Professional singers and players have great responsibilities, for the composer is utterly dependent on them. A student of music needs as long and as arduous a training to become a performer as a medical student needs to become a doctor. Most training is concerned with technique, for musicians have to have the muscular proficiency of an athlete or a ballet dancer. Singers practice breathing every day, as their vocal chords would be inadequate without controlled muscular support. String players practice moving the fingers of the left hand up and down, while drawing the bow to and fro with the right arm-two entirely different movements.
Singers and instruments have to be able to get every note perfectly in tune. Pianists are spared this particular anxiety, for the notes are already there, waiting for them, and it is the piano tuner’s responsibility to tune the instrument for them. But they have their own difficulties; the hammers that hit the string have to be coaxed not to sound like percussion, and each overlapping tone has to sound clear.
This problem of getting clear texture is one that confronts student conductors: they have to learn to know every note of the music and how it should sound, and they have to aim at controlling these sound with fanatical but selfless authority.
Technique is of no use unless it is combined with musical knowledge and understanding. Great artists are those who are so thoroughly at home in the language of music that they can enjoy performing works written in any century.
Most of us long for relationships in which we are loved and accepted just the way we are. Our hearts' desire is to give and receive love in relationships that make us feel that even if others disagree with what we do or say, they still love us. They accept us. They appreciate our contributions to the world. While it would be wonder
ful to have these types of relationships with all people, we know that that's hard to do. We can, however, have them with some others, but only when we first have them with ourselves-and, ironically, this is often the hardest relationship of all.
One of the reasons many of us find it hard to love ourselves is because we do not realize that we are already loved in the most pine way. God loves us, totally and unconditionally.
It's hard for many of us to believe this fact because we know how imperfect we are, and we believe we have to be perfect before God will love us. The truth is that God's love makes us perfect, even with our imperfections. By knowing this truth intellectually and believing it spiritually, we not only love ourselves more; we love others more as well.
Do you love yourself? You may think you do, but do you really? There's only one way to find out-by taking a closer look at what you think, say, and do. You may not like some of what you find, but if you're serious about really loving yourself, you can use this insight to do some positive inner work.
Here are three ways I've found for gaining greater personal insight for deeper love.
Listen to your words and listen even more closely to your thoughts. Why? Because your words and your thoughts will determine your actions. One of the things that has helped me to listen to my thoughts has been to keep a journal. It is not necessary for you to write in it everyday, but it helps to record various insights you gain as you go about living your life. Instead of using a big notebook, you might use a small note pad that you can keep in your purse or pocket for easy access to record your thoughts as they occur to you. (I've found that if I don't immediately write down ideas and insights as they come, it's hard to remember them later, at least with the same degree of clarity.) Whichever method you choose, what's most important is that you write your thoughts down. It will help you know what's in your heart.
Be honest with yourself by paying attention to your actions. Actions speak louder than words, and they always tell the truth. What do your actions say about you? If you say you love your job, but your actions say otherwise, which do you think is more true - your words or your actions? On the other hand, if you say you're not good at a certain job, but your actions say otherwise, that's also important. What do you do with this insight? You can use it to make more beneficial choices in your life. By being honest with yourself based on your previous actions, your actions moving forward will be based on truth instead of just what you tell yourself.
My mom only had one hated her. She was such an embarrassment.
She ran a small shop at a flea market and collected old clothes and some other things to sell for the money we needed. Once during elementary school, it was field day, and my mom was so embarrassed and wondered how could she do this to me?I threw her a hateful look and ran out. The next day at school, my schoolmates asked me,“your mom only has one eye?!” and taunted me.
I was so angry with my mom and wished that she would just disappear from this world. So I said to my mom,“Why don’t you have the other eye?!If you’re only gonna make me a laughingstock!” My mon did not respond, I guess I felt a little bad, but at the same time, I felt so good to have had said what I wanted to say. Maybe it was because my mom hadn’t punished me, I didn’t think that I had hurt her feelings very badly.
For the words I had said to her earlier,there was something pinching at me in the corner of my heart. Even so, I hated my one-eyed mom and our desperate poverty. I told myself that I would become successful in the near future, so I studied very hard. Later I got accepted by the Seoul University, I left my mother and came to Seoul to study. Then I got married there.
I bought a house of my own. Then I had kids, too. Now I am living happily as a successful man. I enjoy the life in Seoul because it’s a place that doesn’t remind me of my mom and my past. This kind of happiness was getting bigger and bigger, until one day someone knocked at my door. It was my mom!And still with her one eye!It felt as if the whole sky was falling apart on me. My little girl ran away, scared of my mom’s eye.
I screamed at her,“Who are you? I don’t know you!How dare you come to my house and scare my daughter!” To this, my mom quietly answered,“Oh, I’m so sorry. I may have gotten the wrong address,” and she disappeared out of sight.
One day, a letter regarding a school reunion came to my house. Lying to my wife that I was going on a business trip, I went back to participate in the reunion. After the reunion, I went down to the old shack, which I used to call a house, just out of curiosity. There I found my mom fallen on the cold ground. I did not shed a single tear.
Then a piece of paper in her hand came into my eyes. It was a letter to me.
My son,
I think my life has been long enough now,and I won’t visit Seoul anymore. But would it be too much to ask if I wanted you to come to visit me once in a while? I miss you so I was so glad when I heard you were coming for the reunion. But I decided not to go to the school…for you. I’m so sorry that I only have one eye, and I was an embarrassment for you.
You see, when you were very little, you got into an accident and lost your eye. As a mom, I couldn’t stand watching you having to grow up with only one eye. So I gave you mine. I was so proud of my son to see a whole new world for me with that eye. I was never upset at you for anything you did. During the couple of times that you were angry with me, I thought to myself, it’s because he loves me.
My son…oh, my son…
Don’t cry for me because of my death. I love you so much.
Long, long time ago, there lived a very fancy king. The king changed his clothes 12 times a day. He really liked to show off to his subjects. xxxMy clothes are the best in the world.xxx
One day, two tailors planned a trick. xxxWhy don't we teach that stupid and extravagant king a lesson. He doesn't even worry about his starving people.xxx xxxThat's right! He thinks he's the best.xxx
The two men went to see the king. xxxOh, the world's most marvelous king! We have brought the most beautiful cloth in the whole world.xxx xxxHowever, not everyone is able to see the cloth. Those that tell lies and have bad hearts are not able to see this fine cloth.xxx
After the king heard those words, he became very interested. xxxCould there really be such a cloth? If I can make clothes out of those cloths, my clothes will be the best in the whole world. Hurry and show me the cloth.xxx The king began to get more and more greedy.
The tailors pretended that the cloth was real, as they showed it to the king. The king and the fine-spoken subjects could not see anything before them. But, none of them could show that they could not see it.
The king and his fine-spoken subjects just looked at each other. Then, the tailor quickly spoke in a arrogant manner. xxxWell, is there no honest man here? How can you look at this beautiful cloth and not praise it.xxx
Among the subjects, one of them made a flattering comment out loud. xxxWow! This is the first time that I have seen such a wonderful cloth.xxx All the subjects tried to be the first to praise the cloth. Then, the king was amazed with the beauty of the cloth, too.
The king gave the money and ordered them to make his clothes. For several days, the tailors pretended to be making the clothes. The king became worried and told one of his subjects to go and see how the clothes was coming along.
The subject could not say how much the clothes had been completed. As hard as he looked, he could not see it. But, he could not say that he was unable to see it. Instead, he pretended to be amazed at how beautiful it was coming along.
A few days later, the tailors came back with the King's clothes. xxxHere you are, try on this clothes.xxx The king was not able to honestly say that he could not see the clothes. He, too, pretended to look over it.
One man said, xxxYour majesty, lets go and show off this finest clothes in the world.xxx The subjects all agreed at the same time. xxxYes, that is a good idea.xxx
The king walked out to the street very proudly and walked with pride. All the people in the land came out to see the king's new clothes. They were all surprised, though.
Just then, a little girl shouted out, xxxOur king is naked!xxx Then everyone said,xxxHe's naked, he's naked!xxx
The king now realized the truth. However, with only his undergarments on, he still walked in a dignified manner. Even though he was embarrassed, he could not stop walking. Why not? Because he was the king.
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