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Rebecca 1)sailed through childhood with a minimum of 2)fuss, the usual scrapes, few illnesses and wonderful academics. Michael didn’t sail. He skipped, ran, hopped, rolled, 3)teetered and bounced. The only things he liked about school were 4)recess, lunch and sports.
Mike loved to climb trees, the higher the better. Afraid of scaring him and causing him to fall, I have calmly talked him down, while my heart was in my throat and my knees 5)felt like jelly. No 6)scolding,7)spanking, or any other punishment kept him from climbing. (No, spanking wasn’t illegal in those days.)
When Michael was fourteen, his dad bought him a Honda 8)dirt bike, a purchase that caused me to consider divorce or murder. I had always stated that a motorcycle would 9)take up residence on my property over my dead body. It was 10)inconceivable that one of those 11)deathtraps was going to carry my son all over the countryside—and with his father’s approval!
Somehow, the boy survived. He grew up, married a beautiful, dark-eyed young woman, and 12)fathered two children, a son and a daughter. Michael became a partner in his dad’s business, a dangerous occupation that he grew to love: select cutting of 13)timber.14)Safety measures are stressed above all else; and most of the time, Michael follows them. Shortcuts, no 15)pun intended, are deadly in the timber. Two things especially are not done: “You never cut down trees alone” and “you cut smart and don’t try to 16)outrun a falling tree.”
One day Michael did both. The tree 17)splintered, snapped and the trunk flew upwards, striking Michael’s head. He remembers being 18)airborne. When he regained consciousness, he was 19)draped across the trunk, one hand still on the running 20)chainsaw,21)wedged beneath the tree. He freed his hand, but it took three attempts before he could stand up without 22)passing out again. His hardhat saved his life, but I’ve always wondered if his hard head wasn’t also a major factor...that and his guardian angel.
One day I received a call from my son in the middle of an afternoon, a rare occurrence. “Mom, I don’t want to scare you, but I’m in trouble. There’s something wrong with my heart. Joyce made me go to the doctor, and he’s sending me to the 23)ER. He told me I might not live to get there.” Mike’s heart had developed an irregular beat so severe that the doctors were afraid that he would go into 24)cardiac arrest. A heart 25)cath showed no damage, and medicines are controlling the irregularity, for which we are all very grateful.
Don’t ever ask, “What next, Lord?” For years I have fussed at my children and four grandchildren about their 26)laxness in using sunscreen. Most of them get periodic sunburns, sometimes waiting to see me until the redness has faded. They know that I’m going to react with frustration and impatience. I often told Michael that he wouldn’t look very pretty without a nose. That remark came back to 27)haunt me. Mike’s sweet wife finally convinced him to see a 28)dermatologist about a small place beside his nose that bled every time he washed his face. I was convinced that the 29)biopsy would reveal skin cancer, but I wasn’t prepared for the report.
“Mom, I got 30)gypped again,” Mike told me on the phone. I chuckled a bit.
“You have skin cancer, don’t you? Don’t worry, Honey. Doctors can take it right off.” There was a long pause before Mike answered.
“Mom, it’s 31)melanoma,” he said. I felt as if someone had driven a fist into my stomach. I couldn’t breathe. I cried silently. Melanoma kills people! Our families have already lost so much this year! My daughter-in-law’s young brother and grandmother and Mike’s grandmother all died within the year! Mike is already dealing with a heart problem!
The next few weeks were filled with alternating states of fear and hope and faith. Additional biopsies showed that the cancer filled a larger area than first thought, but the doctors were hopeful and encouraging. They felt confident that all of the cancer could be removed and that there was very little possibility that it had spread anywhere else in his body. Their main concern was the reconstructive process, since such a large area would have to be removed near his nose, even a small part of his nostril.
The surgery was successful; and for many days Mike had to wear a bandage in the middle of his face. After it was removed, there was a red, 32)swollen area that wasn’t very pretty; but it improved daily. I didn’t care what it looked like. I was just happy that the cancer had not invaded a vital organ.
The other day, for the millionth time, I looked at my handsome son. With my eyes, I traced the fine line that runs from just below his eye to the curve of his nostril. The surgeons did a remarkable job repairing his face. I told Mike that his scar is a war wound, a badge of honor, regardless of how it looks, and that it adds character to a too-handsome face. He thought about that for a minute before he replied, “Huh! You’re right. It is a war wound!”
I’ve learned that nothing hurts us more than watching our children hurt, regardless of how old they are. I’ve learned that faith isn’t faith until it’s tested, and I’ve learned that we don’t know whether we really have it until we need it. We can walk away victorious in battle, but we often carry scars to prove the victory.
The 33)remnant of cancer on Michael’s face is a line about the width of two strands of thread, a fine scar...a beautiful scar. It’s a constant reminder of how fragile we are, a reminder that we are simply made of flesh and bone, held together with skin. Michael’s scar is a 34)token of mercy, grace, and healing, things I don’t want to take for granted, ever again.
丽贝卡的童年很顺利：少有让人操心的麻烦事，有也仅是些很平常的擦伤，很少生病，学习成绩优异。迈克尔则不然。他很好动，蹦蹦跳跳的，一点也不安份。如果说学校里有什么是他喜欢的，那就是课间的休息、午餐跟运动了。
迈克喜欢爬树，越高的他越喜欢。为免吓到他而使他摔下来，我不得不平心静气地哄他下来，其实当时我的心已经跳到嗓子眼上了，双膝也发软了。我怎么骂他、打他屁股都没用，任何惩罚方法都无法阻止他爬树。（当然，打屁股在当时还不算违法。）
迈克尔十四岁时，他爸爸给他买了辆本田的越野摩托车，这曾让我觉得孩子他爸是不是想要跟我离婚，或是要气死我。我一直声称，除非我死了，否则家里是绝对不能买摩托车的。可万万没想到，我儿子竟然会骑着这么辆夺命险车到处穿山涉水——而且居然还取得他爸的同意！
所幸最终，迈克尔还是平安无事。之后他长大了，与一位黑眼睛的美丽姑娘结婚了，还育有两个孩子，一男一女。迈克尔成为了他父亲事业上的合作伙伴，那是一份他越来越喜欢的危险工作：林木择伐。对于份工作来说，安全措施高于一切；而绝大部分时间，迈克尔都会按照这些措施办事。捷径，不是开玩笑地说，在这项工作中是致命的。有两个禁忌是尤其要注意的：“不能独自砍树”和“砍树时要动脑筋，别以为自己跑得快能避开倒下的树。”
有一天，迈克尔把这两件不该做的事都做了。那棵树先是纵裂，继而折断，树干横飞，击中了迈克尔的头部。他记得自己被撞飞了。当他恢复意识的时候，他横伏在树干上，一只手里还拿着楔在树下那把开着的电锯。他把手挣脱出来，试了三次才成功站起来，没有再次昏厥。他的安全帽救了他一命，但是我一直在想，若不是他的安全帽，那么他的守护天使会在哪里。
一天中午，我接到了儿子的来电，平时他很少会在这个时间打来。“妈，我不是想吓你，但是我真的遇到麻烦了。我的心脏出问题了。乔伊斯让我去看医生，医生正把我送去急诊室。他告诉我，可能还没到急诊室，我就没命了。”迈克的心搏异常紊乱，医生怕他会心搏骤停。谢天谢地，心导管检查显示没有什么问题，而心跳的紊乱也正通过药物得到控制。
永远不要问，“上帝，接下来还会有什么事啊？”多年来我都会因为孩子跟四个孙子涂防晒霜时的马虎了事而担心。他们大多都会周期性地晒伤，有时会等到红肿消退后才敢来见我。因为他们深知我会为此而焦虑不安。我时常跟迈克尔说，他要是没了鼻子，就没那么好看了。但反而是我却为这一看法感到忧心忡忡。最终，迈克的好妻子说服了他去看皮肤科医生，看看为什么每次他洗脸的时候鼻子旁边的的一小块地方老是流血。我深信，虽然切片检查的结果会是皮肤癌，但是对于检查报告的结果，我还没做好心理准备。
“妈，我又被骗了，”迈克在电话中跟我说。我轻笑。
“你得了皮肤癌，对吧？别担心，亲爱的。医生能治好的。”迈克隔了很久才回答。
“妈，是黑素瘤，”他回答。我觉得像是有人往我肚子挥了一拳似的。我几乎不能呼吸了。我无声地落泪了。黑素瘤是会死人的！今年，我们的家族已经失去了这么多的亲人了！我媳妇的弟弟和祖母，还有迈克的祖母，他们都在今年离我们而去了。而且迈克已经有心脏问题了！
接下来的几周交织着恐惧、希望与信念。进一步的活组织检查显示，肿瘤的面积比之前想的还要大，但是医生们信心满满的。他们很自信肿瘤可以被切除，而且肿瘤扩散到身体其他地方的可能性极低。但因为要从鼻子旁边切除这么大的面积，甚至还包括鼻孔的一小部分，他们担心的主要是整形恢复的过程。
手术很成功；许多天迈克都必须在脸上横绑着绷带。肿瘤切除之后，切除的地方出现红肿，不太美观；但是情况每天都在好转。我不介意它好不好看。癌细胞没有入侵到其他重要的器官，我就已经很开心了。
某天，我第一百万次看着我那帅帅的儿子，扫视他眼下到鼻孔之间的那道优美线条。医生对他的面容修复做得很出色。我告诉迈克，他的疤痕是战伤，无论这个疤痕好看与否，它就是一枚荣誉勋章，而且它为一张过于帅气的脸平添了个性。想了一会，他回答，“哈！没错，这是战斗伤痕！”
我意识到，无论孩子长多大，都没有什么能比看到他们受伤害而更叫人难过的。我也意识到，只有经得起考验的信念才是真正的信念，而且我也意识到，直到我们需要信念，我们才知道，我们是否真的拥有信念。在战斗中，我们能胜利地走出来，但是我们的胜利常常以疤痕为证。
这个肿瘤在迈克尔脸上留下了一道有两股线般粗的疤痕，这是一道精细的疤痕……一道美丽的疤痕。它时常提醒着：我们是多么的脆弱，我们不过是由皮肤连着肉与骨的血肉之躯。迈克尔的疤痕象征着慈爱、恩泽和救赎，但我不会再将这些视作理所当然的了，永远不会。
Mike loved to climb trees, the higher the better. Afraid of scaring him and causing him to fall, I have calmly talked him down, while my heart was in my throat and my knees 5)felt like jelly. No 6)scolding,7)spanking, or any other punishment kept him from climbing. (No, spanking wasn’t illegal in those days.)
When Michael was fourteen, his dad bought him a Honda 8)dirt bike, a purchase that caused me to consider divorce or murder. I had always stated that a motorcycle would 9)take up residence on my property over my dead body. It was 10)inconceivable that one of those 11)deathtraps was going to carry my son all over the countryside—and with his father’s approval!
Somehow, the boy survived. He grew up, married a beautiful, dark-eyed young woman, and 12)fathered two children, a son and a daughter. Michael became a partner in his dad’s business, a dangerous occupation that he grew to love: select cutting of 13)timber.14)Safety measures are stressed above all else; and most of the time, Michael follows them. Shortcuts, no 15)pun intended, are deadly in the timber. Two things especially are not done: “You never cut down trees alone” and “you cut smart and don’t try to 16)outrun a falling tree.”
One day Michael did both. The tree 17)splintered, snapped and the trunk flew upwards, striking Michael’s head. He remembers being 18)airborne. When he regained consciousness, he was 19)draped across the trunk, one hand still on the running 20)chainsaw,21)wedged beneath the tree. He freed his hand, but it took three attempts before he could stand up without 22)passing out again. His hardhat saved his life, but I’ve always wondered if his hard head wasn’t also a major factor...that and his guardian angel.
One day I received a call from my son in the middle of an afternoon, a rare occurrence. “Mom, I don’t want to scare you, but I’m in trouble. There’s something wrong with my heart. Joyce made me go to the doctor, and he’s sending me to the 23)ER. He told me I might not live to get there.” Mike’s heart had developed an irregular beat so severe that the doctors were afraid that he would go into 24)cardiac arrest. A heart 25)cath showed no damage, and medicines are controlling the irregularity, for which we are all very grateful.
Don’t ever ask, “What next, Lord?” For years I have fussed at my children and four grandchildren about their 26)laxness in using sunscreen. Most of them get periodic sunburns, sometimes waiting to see me until the redness has faded. They know that I’m going to react with frustration and impatience. I often told Michael that he wouldn’t look very pretty without a nose. That remark came back to 27)haunt me. Mike’s sweet wife finally convinced him to see a 28)dermatologist about a small place beside his nose that bled every time he washed his face. I was convinced that the 29)biopsy would reveal skin cancer, but I wasn’t prepared for the report.
“Mom, I got 30)gypped again,” Mike told me on the phone. I chuckled a bit.
“You have skin cancer, don’t you? Don’t worry, Honey. Doctors can take it right off.” There was a long pause before Mike answered.
“Mom, it’s 31)melanoma,” he said. I felt as if someone had driven a fist into my stomach. I couldn’t breathe. I cried silently. Melanoma kills people! Our families have already lost so much this year! My daughter-in-law’s young brother and grandmother and Mike’s grandmother all died within the year! Mike is already dealing with a heart problem!
The next few weeks were filled with alternating states of fear and hope and faith. Additional biopsies showed that the cancer filled a larger area than first thought, but the doctors were hopeful and encouraging. They felt confident that all of the cancer could be removed and that there was very little possibility that it had spread anywhere else in his body. Their main concern was the reconstructive process, since such a large area would have to be removed near his nose, even a small part of his nostril.
The surgery was successful; and for many days Mike had to wear a bandage in the middle of his face. After it was removed, there was a red, 32)swollen area that wasn’t very pretty; but it improved daily. I didn’t care what it looked like. I was just happy that the cancer had not invaded a vital organ.
The other day, for the millionth time, I looked at my handsome son. With my eyes, I traced the fine line that runs from just below his eye to the curve of his nostril. The surgeons did a remarkable job repairing his face. I told Mike that his scar is a war wound, a badge of honor, regardless of how it looks, and that it adds character to a too-handsome face. He thought about that for a minute before he replied, “Huh! You’re right. It is a war wound!”
I’ve learned that nothing hurts us more than watching our children hurt, regardless of how old they are. I’ve learned that faith isn’t faith until it’s tested, and I’ve learned that we don’t know whether we really have it until we need it. We can walk away victorious in battle, but we often carry scars to prove the victory.
The 33)remnant of cancer on Michael’s face is a line about the width of two strands of thread, a fine scar...a beautiful scar. It’s a constant reminder of how fragile we are, a reminder that we are simply made of flesh and bone, held together with skin. Michael’s scar is a 34)token of mercy, grace, and healing, things I don’t want to take for granted, ever again.
丽贝卡的童年很顺利：少有让人操心的麻烦事，有也仅是些很平常的擦伤，很少生病，学习成绩优异。迈克尔则不然。他很好动，蹦蹦跳跳的，一点也不安份。如果说学校里有什么是他喜欢的，那就是课间的休息、午餐跟运动了。
迈克喜欢爬树，越高的他越喜欢。为免吓到他而使他摔下来，我不得不平心静气地哄他下来，其实当时我的心已经跳到嗓子眼上了，双膝也发软了。我怎么骂他、打他屁股都没用，任何惩罚方法都无法阻止他爬树。（当然，打屁股在当时还不算违法。）
迈克尔十四岁时，他爸爸给他买了辆本田的越野摩托车，这曾让我觉得孩子他爸是不是想要跟我离婚，或是要气死我。我一直声称，除非我死了，否则家里是绝对不能买摩托车的。可万万没想到，我儿子竟然会骑着这么辆夺命险车到处穿山涉水——而且居然还取得他爸的同意！
所幸最终，迈克尔还是平安无事。之后他长大了，与一位黑眼睛的美丽姑娘结婚了，还育有两个孩子，一男一女。迈克尔成为了他父亲事业上的合作伙伴，那是一份他越来越喜欢的危险工作：林木择伐。对于份工作来说，安全措施高于一切；而绝大部分时间，迈克尔都会按照这些措施办事。捷径，不是开玩笑地说，在这项工作中是致命的。有两个禁忌是尤其要注意的：“不能独自砍树”和“砍树时要动脑筋，别以为自己跑得快能避开倒下的树。”
有一天，迈克尔把这两件不该做的事都做了。那棵树先是纵裂，继而折断，树干横飞，击中了迈克尔的头部。他记得自己被撞飞了。当他恢复意识的时候，他横伏在树干上，一只手里还拿着楔在树下那把开着的电锯。他把手挣脱出来，试了三次才成功站起来，没有再次昏厥。他的安全帽救了他一命，但是我一直在想，若不是他的安全帽，那么他的守护天使会在哪里。
一天中午，我接到了儿子的来电，平时他很少会在这个时间打来。“妈，我不是想吓你，但是我真的遇到麻烦了。我的心脏出问题了。乔伊斯让我去看医生，医生正把我送去急诊室。他告诉我，可能还没到急诊室，我就没命了。”迈克的心搏异常紊乱，医生怕他会心搏骤停。谢天谢地，心导管检查显示没有什么问题，而心跳的紊乱也正通过药物得到控制。
永远不要问，“上帝，接下来还会有什么事啊？”多年来我都会因为孩子跟四个孙子涂防晒霜时的马虎了事而担心。他们大多都会周期性地晒伤，有时会等到红肿消退后才敢来见我。因为他们深知我会为此而焦虑不安。我时常跟迈克尔说，他要是没了鼻子，就没那么好看了。但反而是我却为这一看法感到忧心忡忡。最终，迈克的好妻子说服了他去看皮肤科医生，看看为什么每次他洗脸的时候鼻子旁边的的一小块地方老是流血。我深信，虽然切片检查的结果会是皮肤癌，但是对于检查报告的结果，我还没做好心理准备。
“妈，我又被骗了，”迈克在电话中跟我说。我轻笑。
“你得了皮肤癌，对吧？别担心，亲爱的。医生能治好的。”迈克隔了很久才回答。
“妈，是黑素瘤，”他回答。我觉得像是有人往我肚子挥了一拳似的。我几乎不能呼吸了。我无声地落泪了。黑素瘤是会死人的！今年，我们的家族已经失去了这么多的亲人了！我媳妇的弟弟和祖母，还有迈克的祖母，他们都在今年离我们而去了。而且迈克已经有心脏问题了！
接下来的几周交织着恐惧、希望与信念。进一步的活组织检查显示，肿瘤的面积比之前想的还要大，但是医生们信心满满的。他们很自信肿瘤可以被切除，而且肿瘤扩散到身体其他地方的可能性极低。但因为要从鼻子旁边切除这么大的面积，甚至还包括鼻孔的一小部分，他们担心的主要是整形恢复的过程。
手术很成功；许多天迈克都必须在脸上横绑着绷带。肿瘤切除之后，切除的地方出现红肿，不太美观；但是情况每天都在好转。我不介意它好不好看。癌细胞没有入侵到其他重要的器官，我就已经很开心了。
某天，我第一百万次看着我那帅帅的儿子，扫视他眼下到鼻孔之间的那道优美线条。医生对他的面容修复做得很出色。我告诉迈克，他的疤痕是战伤，无论这个疤痕好看与否，它就是一枚荣誉勋章，而且它为一张过于帅气的脸平添了个性。想了一会，他回答，“哈！没错，这是战斗伤痕！”
我意识到，无论孩子长多大，都没有什么能比看到他们受伤害而更叫人难过的。我也意识到，只有经得起考验的信念才是真正的信念，而且我也意识到，直到我们需要信念，我们才知道，我们是否真的拥有信念。在战斗中，我们能胜利地走出来，但是我们的胜利常常以疤痕为证。
这个肿瘤在迈克尔脸上留下了一道有两股线般粗的疤痕，这是一道精细的疤痕……一道美丽的疤痕。它时常提醒着：我们是多么的脆弱，我们不过是由皮肤连着肉与骨的血肉之躯。迈克尔的疤痕象征着慈爱、恩泽和救赎，但我不会再将这些视作理所当然的了，永远不会。