haorantaba
All Mum's LettersTo this day I remember my mum's letters. It all started in December1941. Every night she sat at the big table in the kitchen and wrote tomy brother Johnny, who had been drafted that summer. We had not heardfrom him since the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor.I didn't understand why my mum kept writing Johnny when he never wrote back."Wait and see-we'll get a letter from him one day," she claimed.Mum said that there was a direct link from the brain to the writtenword that was just as strong as the light God has granted us. Shetrusted that this light would find Johnny.I don't know if she said that to calm herself, dad or all of usdown. But I do know that it helped us stick together, and one day aletter really did arrive. Johnny was alive on an island in the Pacific.I had always been amused by the fact that mum signed her letters,"Cecilia Capuzzi", and I teased her about that. "Why don't you justwrite 'Mum'?" I said.I hadn't been aware that she always thought of herself as CeciliaCapuzzi. Not as Mum. I began seeing her in a new light, this smalldelicate woman, who even in high-heeled shoes was barely one and a halfmeters tall.She never wore make-up or jewelry except for a wedding ring ofgold. Her hair was fine, sleek and black and always put up in a knot inthe neck. She wouldn't hear of getting a haircut or a perm. Her smallsilver-rimmed pince-nez only left her nose when she went to bed.Whenever mum had finished a letter, she gave it to dad for him topost it. Then she put the water on to boil, and we sat down at thetable and talked about the good old days when our Italian-Americanfamily had been a family of ten: mum, dad and eight children. Five boysand three girls. It is hard to understand that they had all moved awayfrom home to work, enroll in the army, or get married. All except me.Around next spring mum had got two more sons to write to. Everyevening she wrote threedifferent letters which she gave to me and dadafterwards so we could add our greetings.Little by little the rumour about mum's letters spread. One day asmall woman knocked atour door. Her voice trembled as she asked: "Is ittrue you write letters?""I write to my sons.""And you can read too?" whispered the woman."Sure."The woman opened her bag and pulled out a pile of airmail letters. "Read… please read them aloud to me."The letters were from the woman's son who was a soldier in Europe,a red-haired boy who mum remembered having seen sitting with hisbrothers on the stairs in front of our house. Mum read the letters oneby one and translated them from English to Italian. The woman's eyeswelled up with tears. "Now I have to write to him," she said. But howwas she going to do it?"Make some coffee, Octavia," mum yelled to me in the living roomwhile she took the woman with her into the kitchen and seated her atthe table. She took the fountain pen, ink and air mail notepaper andbegan to write. When she had finished, she read the letter aloud to thewoman."How did you know that was exactly what I wanted to say?""I often sit and look at my boys' letters, just like you, without a clue about what to write."A few days later the woman returned with a friend, then another oneand yet another one--they all had sons who fought in the war, and theyall needed letters. Mum had become the correspondent in our part oftown. Sometimes she would write letters all day long.Mum always insisted that people signed their own letters, and thesmall woman with the grey hair asked mum to teach her how to do it. "Iso much want to be able to write my own name so that my son can seeit." Then mum held the woman's hand in hers and moved her hand over thepaper again and again until she was able to do it without her help.After that day, when mum had written a letter for the woman, she signed it herself, and her face brightened up in a smile.One day she came to us, and mum instantly knew what had happened.All hope had disappeared from her eyes. They stood hand in hand for along time without saying a word. Then mum said: "We better go tochurch. There are certain things in life so great that we cannotcomprehend them." When mum came back home, she couldn't get thered-haired boy out of her mind.After the war was over, mum put away the pen and paper. "Finito,"she said. But she was wrong. The women who had come to her for help inwriting to their sons now came to her with letters from their relativesin Italy. They also came to ask her for her help in getting Americancitizenship.On one occasion mum admitted that she had always had a secret dream of writing a novel."Why didn't you?" I asked."All people in this world are here with one particular purpose,"she said. "Apparently, mine is to write letters." She tried to explainwhy it absorbed her so."A letter unites people like nothing else. It can make them cry, it can make them laugh.There is no caress more lovely and warm than a love letter, becauseit makes the world seem very small, and both sender and receiver becomelike kings in their own kingdoms. My dear, a letter is life itself!"Today all mum's letters are lost. But those who got them still talk about her and cherish thememory of her letters in their hearts.【中文译文】：至今我依然记得母亲的信。事情要从1941 年12 月说起。母亲每晚都坐在厨房的大饭桌旁边，给我弟弟约翰写信。那年夏天约翰应征入伍。自从日本袭击珍珠港以后，他就一直杳无音信。约翰从未回信，我不明白母亲为何还要坚持写下去。可母亲还是坚持说：“等着瞧吧，总有一天他会给我们回信的。” 她深信思想和文字是直接相连，这种联系就像上帝赋予人类的光芒一样强大，而这道光芒终会照耀到约翰的身上。虽然我不肯定她是否只是在安慰自己，或是父亲，或者是我们几个孩子，但我们一家人却因此更加亲密。而最终我们终于等到了约翰的回信，原来他驻扎在太平洋的一个岛屿上，安然无恙。母亲总以“塞西莉娅�6�1卡普奇”署名，每每令我忍俊不禁，还要嘲笑她几句。我问：“为什么不直接写‘母亲’呢？”以前我一直没有留意到她把自己当成塞西莉娅�6�1卡普奇，而不是母亲。我不禁以新的眼光打量自己的母亲，她是多么优雅，又是那么矮小，就算穿上高跟鞋，她的身高依然不足一米五。母亲向来素面朝天，除了手上戴的婚戒，她基本是不戴其他的首饰。她的头发顺滑乌亮，盘在颈后，从不剪短或烫曲。只有在睡觉的时候，她才摘下那副小小的银丝眼镜。每次母亲写完信，就会把信交给父亲去邮寄。然后她把水烧开，和我们围坐在桌旁，聊聊过去的好日子。从前我们这个意裔的美国家庭可是人丁旺盛：父母亲和我们八个兄弟姐妹——五男三女，济济一堂。现在他们都因工作、入伍或婚姻纷纷离开了家，只有我留下来，想想真觉匪夷所思。第二年春天，母亲也要开始给另外两个儿子写信了。每天晚上，她先写好三封内容不同的信交给我和父亲，然后我们再加上自己的问候。母亲写信的事渐渐传开。一天，一个矮小的女人来敲我们家的门，用颤抖的声音问：“你真的会写信吗？”“我写给我的儿子。”“那么你也能读信咯？”女人小声问。“当然。”女人打开背包，掏出一叠航空信。“请，请您大声读给我听好吗？”信是女人在欧洲参战的儿子写来的，母亲依稀还记得他的模样，他有一头红色的头发，常和他的兄弟一起坐在我们家门前的楼梯上。母亲把信一封接一封地从英文翻成意大利文读出来。听完，那女人双眼噙着泪水说：“我一定要给他写回信。”可是她该怎么办呢？“奥塔维娅，去冲杯咖啡来。”母亲在客厅大声叫我，然后把那女人领到厨房桌旁坐下，拿出钢笔、墨水和信纸开始写信。写完后为她大声读出来。“这正是我想说的话，您是怎么知道的呢？”“我也和你一样，常常坐在那里看儿子的来信，完全不知道写什么好。”几天后，女人回来，带来一个朋友，后来又来一个，再一个……他们都有儿子在战场上奋战，都需要写信。妈妈变成了我们城镇的通讯员，有时她一整天都在写回信。母亲常常坚持让大家签上自己的名字。一位头发灰白的女人要母亲教她怎么签名。“我真想亲手写下自己的名字，好让儿子可以看到。”于是母亲手把手地教她在纸上一遍一遍书写，直到她自己可以签名。第二天，母亲帮那个女人写好信，由她亲自签名，女人的面容在微笑中变得灿烂了。有一天她来我家，眼里全无希望的光芒，母亲立刻明白了。两人握着手，久久无语。后来母亲说：“我们去教堂吧。生命中有些事情太深奥，我们无法理解。”母亲回家后，一直记着那个红头发的小男孩。战争结束后，母亲收起纸笔，说：“都结束了。”可是她错了。那个曾让母亲帮忙给儿子写信的女人又来了，带着意大利亲人的来信。他们还让母亲帮忙帮他们的亲属申请入籍。一次母亲承认她心里一直有一个愿望，就是要写一本小说。“为什么不写呢？”我问。母亲试着解释她为何如此沉迷写信，“每个人来到这个世界都有一个目的。显然，我就是来写信的。”“信无可替代地把人与人连在一起，让人笑，让人哭。一封情书比任何爱抚更令人觉得亲爱和温暖，因为它让世界变小，写信人和收信人都成为自己世界里的国王。亲爱的，信就是生命本身！”今天，母亲所有的信已经遗失。但是那些收到信的人仍在谈论她，并把有关信的记忆珍藏在心。
北京美克
1感动：A man came home from work late, tired and irritated, to find his 5-year old son waiting for him at the door. “Daddy, may I ask you a question?” “Yeah sure, what is it?” replied the man. “Daddy, how much do you make an hour?” “That’s none of your business. Why do you ask such a thing?” the man said angrily. “I just want to know. Please tell me, how much do you make an hour?” pleaded the little boy. “If you must know, I make $20 an hour.” “Oh,” the little boy replied, with his head down. Looking up, he said, “Daddy, may I please borrow $10?” The father was furious, “If the only reason you asked that is so you can borrow some money to buy a silly toy or some other nonsense, then you march yourself straight to your room and go to bed. Think about why you are being so selfish. I work hard every day for such childish behavior.” The little boy quietly went to his room and shut the door. The man sat down and started to get even angrier about the little boy’s questions. How dare he ask such questions only to get some money? After about an hour or so, the man had calmed down, and started to think: Maybe there was something he really needed to buy with that $10 and he really didn’t ask for money very often. The man went to the door of the little boy’s room and opened the door. “Are you asleep, son?” He asked. “No daddy, I’m awake,” replied the boy. “I’ve been thinking, maybe I was too hard on you earlier,” said the man, “It’s been a long day and I took out my aggravation on you. Here’s the $10you asked for.” The little boy sat straight up, smiling. “Oh, thank you daddy!” He yelled. Then, reaching under his pillow he pulled out some crumpled up bills. The man, seeing that the boy already had money, started to get angry again. The little boy slowly counted out his money, then looked up at his father. “Why do you want more money if you already have some?” the father grumbled. “Because I didn’t have enough, but now I do,” the little boy replied. “Daddy, I have $20 now. Can I buy an hour of your time? Please come home early tomorrow. I would like to have dinner with you.” 一个人工作到很晚，带着疲惫与愤怒回到家里，却发现5岁大的儿子正在门口等他。 “爸爸，我可以问你一个问题吗？” “当然，什么问题？” “爸爸，你一个小时赚多少钱？” “这不关你的事。怎么问这样一个问题？”父亲生气地说道。 “我只是想知道。请告诉我吧，你一个小时赚多少钱？”小男孩乞求地说。 “真想知道就告诉你吧，我一小时赚20美元。” “噢，”男孩说着，低下了头。接着，他抬起头来问：“爸爸，我可以借你10美元钱吗？” 父亲生气了：“如果你问这个问题，只是为了借钱买无聊的玩具或其他没用的东西，那就赶紧回你的房间睡觉去。想想你怎么会这么自私。我每天工作这么辛苦，得到的竟是这样幼稚愚蠢的举动。” 小男孩静静地走进自己的房间，关上了门。这个人坐下后，更加为这个男孩的问题生气了。这孩子怎么敢问这样的问题，就为了借些钱呢？大约过了一个小时，他才平静下来了，开始想：也许他真的需要这10美元买什么东西呢，他并不是经常要钱花。 于是这个人走到小男孩的门口，打开了门。 “你睡了吗，孩子？”他问。 “没有呢，爸爸。我醒着，”男孩回答。 “我在想，可能刚才我对你太严厉了，”父亲说，“经过漫长的一天，我把怒气都发到你身上了。这是你要的10美元。” 小男孩坐直了身子，笑了：“噢，谢谢爸爸！”他忍不住呼喊起来。接着，他伸手到枕头底下，拿出一把皱巴巴的钞票。看到男孩已经有钱了，父亲又忍不住要发火。小男孩慢慢地数着钱，然后抬头看着父亲。 “既然你已经有钱了，为什么还要更多钱？”父亲粗鲁地抱怨说。 “因为我的钱不够，不过现在够了，”小男孩回答，“爸爸，我现在有20美元了，我可以买你一小时的时间吗？请你明天早点下班，我想和你一起吃晚饭。”2中国印象My name is Steve and together with my wife and four kids we live in Yunnan Province. Our fourth child, Sarah Joy, was adopted from the Guigang SWI in Guangxi Zhuang Autonomous Region in early 2008. I started this group as way to help my friends and family stay informed about China.So if you are interested in what is happening in this amazing land of China, then perhaps this group is for you. Steve's China News is dedicated to bringing you news stories in English about virtually every aspect of life in modern-day China. Ex-pats living in China, Chinese nationals, overseas Chinese, people who have adopted from China and/or people who are currently in the adoption process may also find the news articles useful. 建议你到英文故事网看看,满不错的哟~ (*^__^*) 嘻嘻…… .-. __ _ .-. | ` / \ | / '.()--\ | '._/ _| O _ O |_ =\ '-' /= '-._____.-' /`/\___/\`\ /\/o o\/\ (_| |_) |____,____| (____|____)
Jamietee1997
Sand and stone The 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, wrote in the said:” 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 he recovered from the near drowning, he wrote on stone: Today my best friend saved my life.The friend who had slapped and saved his best friend asked him, 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 ever erases it. Learn to write your hurts in the sand and to carve your benefits in stone. They say it takes a minute to find a special person, an hour to appreciate him, a day to love him, but an entire life to forget him.Send this phrase to the people you will never forget .It is a short message to let them know that you will never forget them. Take the time to live. 伤害只写在沙地上两个朋友在荒漠里穿行，途中他们发上了争执；其中一个人单了另一位一个耳光。被达的人非常伤心，但他什么也没说，只是在沙地上写到：“今天，我最好的朋友打了我一个耳光。”他们继续往前走，发现了一片绿洲，他们决定在那里洗个澡。结果，被打的那位陷进了泥潭，眼看就要被淹死，结果他的朋友救了他。恢复过来都他在石头上写到：“今天，我最好的朋友救了我的命。”那位打他并救了他的朋友问：“为什么我伤害你时，你在沙地上写下来，而现在却在石头上刻下来呢？”被救的那位答到：“受到伤害时，我们应该把他写在沙地上，宽恕之风会将它抹平。可是受人恩惠时，我们应该把它刻在石头上，任何风雨也不会把它擦掉。”学会将所受的伤害写在沙子上，把所的的恩德刻在石头上。有人这样说，找到一个特别的人只需要用一分钟，欣赏他需要用一小时，喜欢他需要用一天，但忘掉他却需要用一生的时间。把这句话送给那些你永远无法忘记的人吧。这段短短的话能让他们知道你永远不会忘记他们。此生不忘。
蒋大女儿
A girl and a boy were on a motorcycle, speeding through the night. 一天夜里，男孩骑摩托车带着女孩超速行驶 they loved each other a lot.. 他们彼此深爱着对方 girl:" Slow down a little.. I'm scared.." 女孩：“慢一点...我怕...” boy: "no, it's so fun.." 男孩：“不，这样很有趣....” girl: "please... it's so scary.." 女孩：“求求你...这样太吓人了...” boy: "then say that you love me.." 男孩：“好吧，那你说你爱我...” girl: "fine..i love you..can you slow down now?" 女孩：“好....我爱你...你现在可以慢下来了吗？” boy: "give me a big hug.." 男孩：“紧紧抱我一下...” the girl gave him a big hug. 女孩紧紧拥抱了他一下 girl: "now can you slow down?" 女孩：“现在你可以慢下来了吧？” boy: "can you take off my helmet and put it on? it's uncomfortable and? It's bothering me while i drive." 男孩：“你可以脱下我的头盔并自己戴上吗？它让我感到不舒服，还干扰我驾车。” the next day, there was a story in the newspaper. a motorcycle had crashed into a building because its brakes were broken. 第二天，报纸报道：一辆摩托车因为刹车失灵而撞毁在一幢建筑物上 there were two people on the motorcycle, of which one died, and the other had survived... 车上有两个人，一个死亡，一个幸存... the guy knew that the brakes were broken. he didn\'t want to let the girl know, because he knew that the girl would have gotten scared. 驾车的男孩知道刹车失灵，但他没有让女孩知道，因为那样会让女孩感到害怕。 instead, he was told the last time that she loved him, got a hug from her,put his helmet on her so that she can live, and die himself... 相反，他让女孩最后一次说她爱他，最后一次拥抱他，并让她戴上自己的头盔，结果，女孩活着，他自己死了... once in awhile, right in the middle of an ordinary life, love gives us a fairy tale... 就在一会的时间里，就在平常的生活里，爱向我们展示了一个神话。
蒙古无双皇帝
A cool-sheng, we are very sad Can not see, is said to be a 3.2-liang made freehand online version did not explain very clearly, paper edition of the book I have never seen, but very pretty.3 wedding day is a nice ending fall asleep pretty bad ehKing four years, the only one to know when will stepmother perfect ending5 string pretty warm, but it was abuse, but the ending just fine for.6 of that year it was I rushed to the explosion fire7 Red Dust nice light rain8 left ear looked at outcomes that bad, but there are hints about the original, there are three hourglass, hourglass 3 If you press it should be a good ending.Shadow Wolf 9 Xiao Xiao this is really great10 Why Sheng Xiao Mo I liked it, very beautiful.12 To our youth will eventually passing away like Chen Xiao is no origin to like it.13 small reading times know that this is a pit, do not know how many of the ah! By small 4 hole into ah! Is said to be out of his five-year out of a year, I do not know how many years I had with him consumption. drives you nuts.14 translator quite good looking, feeling pretty special narrative methods15 Firs eat and how that care is an author is diffuse, and no complicated things seem easy. Personally felt like dessertThese are all I have read, it is like. If you cry then, be sure to look at 136,812 it is read several books since the cry .2 59 is a process you might cry, but a good outcome. In order to Debugging mood Do not look at the total child-wen too much, ah, ah to the body. the body of revolution, the capital, I hope you enjoy.
