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每个人都有梦想，而且在成长的各个时期各不相同。少年时代的保罗希望哥哥能以他为荣，为此，他付出了怎样的努力呢？
Growing up with a brother who was 7 years older was difficult.
Scott was my idol and it hurt a lot not to be able to go the places he did or hang out with his friends. I was always the dorky1 younger brother who tried so hard to just fit in. All I ever wanted was for him to be proud of me.
So, when Scott announced that he was going to work the summer teaching mentally challenged kids and asked if I’d like to volunteer, I jumped at the chance to spend the time with him.
I was 14 and the only volunteer at the program. Everyone else was 21 and above, either earning college credits in Special Education like my brother, or trying to make a few bucks for the summer. We had approximately 30 students, ranging in age from 8 to 21, with the majority being my age. I had never had much exposure2 to the world of the mentally challenged and was a bit taken aback on my first day.
Mike was 9 years old, tall, thin, and severely emotionally disturbed. He stood alone in the corner, weaving back and forth, afraid. It was as if he was invisible to all the other students and counselors. I walked over to him, reached out my hand and he began to scream. I remember the look of embarrassment in my brother’s eyes. I wanted to crawl under a rock and just quit. I backed away and tended to the other students.
Every morning Mike would get dropped off by his mother, and every morning he would go to the same corner where he spent most of his day alone. Even other students would avoid him, not wanting to listen to the screaming or tantrums3 he would throw.
Each afternoon the counselors would have their students pair off and do different activities. And each afternoon Mike would remain in the corner, watching. Feeling more comfortable, I approached the director and asked her about Mike. She explained that he had been coming to the program for the past couple years and this was how he spent his days and no one had the time needed to spend with him. I asked her if I could be assigned to him. She didn’t respond at first and I could see the whole, “You are only 14 years old! What can you do?” look in her eyes.
“Sure, go ahead. What could it hurt?” she finally replied.
So each morning Mike would come in and I would be waiting for him. He would walk over to his corner and I would tag right along, standing or sitting next to him for hours, not saying a word. This went on for two weeks. I knew all the counselors were talking about me to my brother. This was not what I had envisioned4 my summer to turn into. It was suppose to strengthen the bond between my brother and I, not make it weaker.
Then something happened that changed my life forever. I overslept one morning and my brother had already taken off to work. I jumped on my bike and rushed to the school, embarrassed for oversleeping and worried I would be in trouble.
I walked into the classroom and the room went silent. “Oh no,” I thought.
That’s when I heard it. Someone was clapping his hands. I shrugged it off as a student just expressing his excitement. Then someone else began clapping. Another student, I thought. No, it was one of the counselors. What was going on? Then it erupted5. Everyone was clapping. Were they all being sarcastic that I was late?
It was at that moment that I locked eyes with my brother.
He was clapping the loudest out of everyone. I just stood there puzzled until the Director of the program approached me and explained that it had to do with Mike.
Apparently when Mike arrived that morning and couldn’t find me he went around from table to table, counselor to counselor, asking, “Where’s Paul? Where’s Paul?”
The Director informed me that those were the first words Mike had spoken in the past couple years. I didn’t know what to say.
I could feel my eyes beginning to fill with tears. I looked over to Mike in his corner and he was smiling, pointing to me and saying, “Paul! Paul! Paul!”
I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Scott. “This is my little brother,” he kept reminding everyone with pride in his voice. It was then I began to cry.
The next year I was hired to be a counselor. I was only 15 and had to get a worker’s permit. I was in charge of my own group of students and had a college girl as my assistant.
As for Mike, his family moved out West and I was saddened by the fact that I would never see him again. I hoped that he was all right and thought of him that whole summer.
The last day of the program I received a postcard from California. In barely legible6 handwriting were the words “Hi Paul”. It was from Mike. I knew he was going to be okay.
同一个比自己大七岁的哥哥一起长大真不容易。
哥哥斯科特是我的偶像，但无论是做事还是跟朋友出去玩，他都不让我和他一起，这让我很伤心。尽管如此，我还是努力去讨好他。我最大的愿望就是他能以我为荣。
因此，当斯科特宣布他准备在暑假去为一些智障孩子上课，并问我想不想去做志愿者的时候，我毫不犹豫地接受了这一能与他在一起的机会。
我14岁，是这个项目的唯一志愿者。其他人都在21岁以上，不是像我哥哥一样想通过特殊教育挣点资历，就是想利用暑假挣钱。我们大约有30位学生，年龄从8岁到21岁不等，大部分孩子的年龄都和我差不多。我以前从来没有跟智障患者打过交道，所以第一天上班就有些退缩。
迈克是一个9岁的小男孩，个子又高又瘦，情绪严重紊乱。他独自站在角落里，害怕地走来走去。其他学生和辅导员似乎都看不见他。我朝他走去，伸出手，不料他却大叫起来。我至今还记得哥哥眼睛里的那种尴尬眼神。我羞愧得无地自容，只能放弃。我退回来，尝试去接触其他学生。
每天早晨，迈克都由妈妈送到这里；每天早晨，他都会走向同一个角落，在那儿独自过完那一天的大部分时间。就连别的学生都会躲着他，不想听他尖叫或发脾气。
每天下午，辅导员都会把学生分成两人一组，做不同的活动。每天下午，迈克都待在那个角落里，看着大家。稍觉自在一些后，我去项目主管那儿了解迈克的情况。她告诉我，迈克参加这个项目已经两年了，一直都是那样度过的，没人愿意花时间同他在一起。我问可否让我和迈克一组。开始的时候，她没有回答，但我能够看出她的意思：“你才14岁！你能做什么呢？”
“当然，去吧。这有什么坏处呢？”最后，她这样回答。
于是，每天早晨我都会等迈克来。他走向他的角落，我则紧随其后，或站或坐地陪在他身边，几小时不说一句话。这样过了两周。我知道所有辅导员都在我哥哥面前谈论我。这和我预想中的暑假可不一样。我是想借此来增强我们兄弟之间的感情，而不是相反。
接下来发生的一件事永远改变了我的生活。一天早上，我睡过了头，醒来后发现哥哥已经去上班了。我跳上自行车就向学校冲去，既因为睡过头而觉得不好意思，又担心着会有麻烦。
我走进教室，所有人都安静了下来。“哦，不。”我想。
就在那时，我听见了掌声。有人在鼓掌。我以为是哪个学生兴奋过度，就耸了耸肩，没有理会。接着又有人开始鼓掌。又一个学生，我想。然而这次鼓掌的却是一名辅导员。发生了什么事？接着掌声雷动。所有人都在鼓掌。他们都在嘲笑我迟到了吗？
这时，我的目光遇到了哥哥的。
他是所有人中鼓掌鼓得最响亮的。我愣在那儿，莫名其妙。然后，项目主管走近我，解释说这件事与迈克有关。
原来，那天早上，迈克来到学校后，没有找到我，就一张桌子一张桌子、一位辅导员一位辅导员地挨个询问：“保罗在哪儿？保罗在哪儿？”
项目主管告诉我，那是迈克两年来说过的第一句话。我感动得不知说什么才好。
我的眼睛里开始有泪水涌出。我向角落里的迈克看去，他正微笑地指着我，说：“保罗！保罗！保罗！”
我感觉到有人把手放在了我的肩膀上，是斯科特。“这是我弟弟，”他自豪地告诉每一个人。这时，我忍不住哭了。
第二年，我受雇成为一名辅导员。我只有15岁，因而必须得到许可。我负责辅导自己那一组的学生，并有一名女大学生做助理。
至于迈克，他家搬出了西部。想到以后可能再也见不到他了，我感到很难过。我希望他一切顺利。那年夏天，我一直想念着他。
项目结束的那一天，我收到了一张来自加利福尼亚的明信片。我费了很大劲儿才认出上面的字。只见上面写着：“你好，保罗。”是迈克寄来的。我知道他会一切顺利的。
黄春宝 摘译自 Teens
Growing up with a brother who was 7 years older was difficult.
Scott was my idol and it hurt a lot not to be able to go the places he did or hang out with his friends. I was always the dorky1 younger brother who tried so hard to just fit in. All I ever wanted was for him to be proud of me.
So, when Scott announced that he was going to work the summer teaching mentally challenged kids and asked if I’d like to volunteer, I jumped at the chance to spend the time with him.
I was 14 and the only volunteer at the program. Everyone else was 21 and above, either earning college credits in Special Education like my brother, or trying to make a few bucks for the summer. We had approximately 30 students, ranging in age from 8 to 21, with the majority being my age. I had never had much exposure2 to the world of the mentally challenged and was a bit taken aback on my first day.
Mike was 9 years old, tall, thin, and severely emotionally disturbed. He stood alone in the corner, weaving back and forth, afraid. It was as if he was invisible to all the other students and counselors. I walked over to him, reached out my hand and he began to scream. I remember the look of embarrassment in my brother’s eyes. I wanted to crawl under a rock and just quit. I backed away and tended to the other students.
Every morning Mike would get dropped off by his mother, and every morning he would go to the same corner where he spent most of his day alone. Even other students would avoid him, not wanting to listen to the screaming or tantrums3 he would throw.
Each afternoon the counselors would have their students pair off and do different activities. And each afternoon Mike would remain in the corner, watching. Feeling more comfortable, I approached the director and asked her about Mike. She explained that he had been coming to the program for the past couple years and this was how he spent his days and no one had the time needed to spend with him. I asked her if I could be assigned to him. She didn’t respond at first and I could see the whole, “You are only 14 years old! What can you do?” look in her eyes.
“Sure, go ahead. What could it hurt?” she finally replied.
So each morning Mike would come in and I would be waiting for him. He would walk over to his corner and I would tag right along, standing or sitting next to him for hours, not saying a word. This went on for two weeks. I knew all the counselors were talking about me to my brother. This was not what I had envisioned4 my summer to turn into. It was suppose to strengthen the bond between my brother and I, not make it weaker.
Then something happened that changed my life forever. I overslept one morning and my brother had already taken off to work. I jumped on my bike and rushed to the school, embarrassed for oversleeping and worried I would be in trouble.
I walked into the classroom and the room went silent. “Oh no,” I thought.
That’s when I heard it. Someone was clapping his hands. I shrugged it off as a student just expressing his excitement. Then someone else began clapping. Another student, I thought. No, it was one of the counselors. What was going on? Then it erupted5. Everyone was clapping. Were they all being sarcastic that I was late?
It was at that moment that I locked eyes with my brother.
He was clapping the loudest out of everyone. I just stood there puzzled until the Director of the program approached me and explained that it had to do with Mike.
Apparently when Mike arrived that morning and couldn’t find me he went around from table to table, counselor to counselor, asking, “Where’s Paul? Where’s Paul?”
The Director informed me that those were the first words Mike had spoken in the past couple years. I didn’t know what to say.
I could feel my eyes beginning to fill with tears. I looked over to Mike in his corner and he was smiling, pointing to me and saying, “Paul! Paul! Paul!”
I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Scott. “This is my little brother,” he kept reminding everyone with pride in his voice. It was then I began to cry.
The next year I was hired to be a counselor. I was only 15 and had to get a worker’s permit. I was in charge of my own group of students and had a college girl as my assistant.
As for Mike, his family moved out West and I was saddened by the fact that I would never see him again. I hoped that he was all right and thought of him that whole summer.
The last day of the program I received a postcard from California. In barely legible6 handwriting were the words “Hi Paul”. It was from Mike. I knew he was going to be okay.
同一个比自己大七岁的哥哥一起长大真不容易。
哥哥斯科特是我的偶像，但无论是做事还是跟朋友出去玩，他都不让我和他一起，这让我很伤心。尽管如此，我还是努力去讨好他。我最大的愿望就是他能以我为荣。
因此，当斯科特宣布他准备在暑假去为一些智障孩子上课，并问我想不想去做志愿者的时候，我毫不犹豫地接受了这一能与他在一起的机会。
我14岁，是这个项目的唯一志愿者。其他人都在21岁以上，不是像我哥哥一样想通过特殊教育挣点资历，就是想利用暑假挣钱。我们大约有30位学生，年龄从8岁到21岁不等，大部分孩子的年龄都和我差不多。我以前从来没有跟智障患者打过交道，所以第一天上班就有些退缩。
迈克是一个9岁的小男孩，个子又高又瘦，情绪严重紊乱。他独自站在角落里，害怕地走来走去。其他学生和辅导员似乎都看不见他。我朝他走去，伸出手，不料他却大叫起来。我至今还记得哥哥眼睛里的那种尴尬眼神。我羞愧得无地自容，只能放弃。我退回来，尝试去接触其他学生。
每天早晨，迈克都由妈妈送到这里；每天早晨，他都会走向同一个角落，在那儿独自过完那一天的大部分时间。就连别的学生都会躲着他，不想听他尖叫或发脾气。
每天下午，辅导员都会把学生分成两人一组，做不同的活动。每天下午，迈克都待在那个角落里，看着大家。稍觉自在一些后，我去项目主管那儿了解迈克的情况。她告诉我，迈克参加这个项目已经两年了，一直都是那样度过的，没人愿意花时间同他在一起。我问可否让我和迈克一组。开始的时候，她没有回答，但我能够看出她的意思：“你才14岁！你能做什么呢？”
“当然，去吧。这有什么坏处呢？”最后，她这样回答。
于是，每天早晨我都会等迈克来。他走向他的角落，我则紧随其后，或站或坐地陪在他身边，几小时不说一句话。这样过了两周。我知道所有辅导员都在我哥哥面前谈论我。这和我预想中的暑假可不一样。我是想借此来增强我们兄弟之间的感情，而不是相反。
接下来发生的一件事永远改变了我的生活。一天早上，我睡过了头，醒来后发现哥哥已经去上班了。我跳上自行车就向学校冲去，既因为睡过头而觉得不好意思，又担心着会有麻烦。
我走进教室，所有人都安静了下来。“哦，不。”我想。
就在那时，我听见了掌声。有人在鼓掌。我以为是哪个学生兴奋过度，就耸了耸肩，没有理会。接着又有人开始鼓掌。又一个学生，我想。然而这次鼓掌的却是一名辅导员。发生了什么事？接着掌声雷动。所有人都在鼓掌。他们都在嘲笑我迟到了吗？
这时，我的目光遇到了哥哥的。
他是所有人中鼓掌鼓得最响亮的。我愣在那儿，莫名其妙。然后，项目主管走近我，解释说这件事与迈克有关。
原来，那天早上，迈克来到学校后，没有找到我，就一张桌子一张桌子、一位辅导员一位辅导员地挨个询问：“保罗在哪儿？保罗在哪儿？”
项目主管告诉我，那是迈克两年来说过的第一句话。我感动得不知说什么才好。
我的眼睛里开始有泪水涌出。我向角落里的迈克看去，他正微笑地指着我，说：“保罗！保罗！保罗！”
我感觉到有人把手放在了我的肩膀上，是斯科特。“这是我弟弟，”他自豪地告诉每一个人。这时，我忍不住哭了。
第二年，我受雇成为一名辅导员。我只有15岁，因而必须得到许可。我负责辅导自己那一组的学生，并有一名女大学生做助理。
至于迈克，他家搬出了西部。想到以后可能再也见不到他了，我感到很难过。我希望他一切顺利。那年夏天，我一直想念着他。
项目结束的那一天，我收到了一张来自加利福尼亚的明信片。我费了很大劲儿才认出上面的字。只见上面写着：“你好，保罗。”是迈克寄来的。我知道他会一切顺利的。
黄春宝 摘译自 Teens