论文部分内容阅读
梦幻，每个人都会有，每个人都曾有过对梦幻的追求，因为有理想，因为曾经年轻……
现实最真切，但也残酷，它好似一面光亮的镜子，时时呈现的是一个真实的你。当我们觉得一切都很美好时，会骑在那有魔力的会飞的扫帚上吗？
“I can’t wait to get my very own magic set. It’ll be so neat! Will it have a flying broom? I wish I’d asked Santa in time last year.”
As I drove six-year-old Margaret and her four-year-old sister, Kate, to school, the older girl described in great and fantastical detail her plans for her magic set. It was clear that this Christmas would not go by without one. “I think if you write Santa by Thanksgiving, he’ll have plenty of time to get you a set. Provided, of course, that you’re a good girl,” I added sagely.
“Daddy, you can drive in the mornings to school, and I’ll fly above you. Then, after a few times, when I know the route, I can fly by myself to school. I can’t wait. Do you think I should fly sitting on the broom sideways or with my legs on each side? Do you think Kate can sit behind me, or does she need her own broom?”
“I think you need to be six before you can fly your own broom.” I said.
“Okay, then Kate can fly with me. I hope she won’t fall, though, She’ll have to hang on very tight.” And on it went, until we pulled into our parking spot and walked up the winding path to the school’s front door.
I didn’t think much about this conversation in the hours between morning drop-off and afternoon pickup. However, like a good Swiss timepiece, Margaret resumed exactly where she had left off. As she clambered into the car, ready to head home with her sister, she asked how big the magic set would be. She then imagined how finding her way to and from school would be a little tricky at first, but thought that, with my help, she’d get there just fine. The whole line of conversation fascinated Kate, who was willing to accompany Margaret on the broom and wait until she was six to have her own means of transport.
It was a funny conversation. Usually Margaret is too “smart” to believe something so fantastical, so unreal. Despite that, I gave it the careful attention she wanted, answering each question with a thoughtful response. I didn’t pay much attention, though, to the real-life seriousness of it. I assumed it would pass, as so many things do when you’re young.
Over the next several days, the magic set and all of its accoutrements were the highlight of our discussions. Margaret asked me what the broom would look like: Would it be a crooked old stick with all the latest technology? She asked about a cauldron: How big would it be? What kind of metal would it is made of?
The fun ended on the fourth day. We were in the kitchen. AndMargaret was asking me how she would get back and forth from school. Would she follow the highway, or just strike off as the crow flies? It hit me like a solid thwack on the head. I looked at her. She was so earnest, so naive, so perfect in her belief, so fragile in her understanding of the world.
“Margaret, do you really think the magic set will have a broom and that you’ll be able to fly to school? Do you really believe there are brooms that fly?”
“Yes, Dad,” she replied. “And I can’t wait till Christmas when I have one.”
“Margaret, come here, please, I want to talk to you.” I knelt down, took her on my knee, and put my arms around her. My mind raced, uncertain how to deal with this situation.
“Margaret, there is really no such thing as a flying broomstick. Flying broomsticks exist only in books and movies. You can’t really fly. It’s just not possible. It’s just pretend, love, I’m sorry.” She looked at me, shocked. Her eyebrows furrowed， her lips pursed. She wanted to run from me, run from reality. She started to cry.
This was the first opportunity I’d had to deal with reality and fantasy with my two little girls, my first chance to perpetuate or dash their beliefs. For the next few days Margaret was a bit vulnerable. She cried another time or two, saddened that her dream of flying to school on a broom would never be. I felt terrible that I had taken away such a fine dream. But I’m a parent, and my job is to help my child along, not let her perpetuate a fantasy that can’t be fulfilled. Besides, I didn’t want to be there at Christmas when she opened her magic set to find only false-bottomed glasses and rope tricks.
Several days later, Margaret asked me about Santa. She wanted to know how he could possibly go to every child’s house in a single night. I was surprised by her logic. What do I do now? I wondered. I couldn’t crush her again, not so soon.
“Margaret, Santa has a bit of magic, and he manages it somehow.” She accepted my explanation, believing that there are some kinds of magic in this world, even if they don’t include flying brooms.
“我实在等不及想要一个自己的魔法坐骑了，那该是多么美妙的事情啊！可不可以骑扫帚飞上天呢？如果我去年问问圣诞老人就好了。”
当我驱车送快满6岁的玛格丽特和她4岁的妹妹凯特上学时，玛格丽特开始绘声绘色地描述起她的魔法行头来。我知道，如果不满足她的愿望的话，今年的圣诞节肯定没法过了。“我认为，如果你在感恩节前就给圣诞老人写信的话，他就有足够的时间为你准备圣诞礼物了。当然，你首先得是一个乖女孩才行，”我一本正经地说。
“爸爸，你以后早上开车到学校时，我就在你在上空飞。用不了几次，我认识路后，就可以自己飞到学校了，我都等不及了。你觉得我骑扫帚时，是两腿放一边好呢，还是跨着骑好？你觉得凯特是坐在我身后好呢，还是自己单独骑一把扫帚好？”
“我想你得等到满6岁，才能骑自己的扫帚飞，”我说。
“可以，到时凯特要和我一起飞。但愿她不会掉下来，她得抓得很紧才行。”我们停好车，经过弯曲的小路到了学校的大门，玛格丽特仍喋喋不休。
从上午上学到下午放学的这几个小时里，我没顾上去想我们的谈话，然而，玛格丽特就如同一块优质的瑞士手表，准确地拾起了上午不得不打住的话头。她一钻进车里，与妹妹做好回家的准备，就问起她的魔法坐骑会是什么模样来。她设想着如何找到上学的路，也许刚开始有点困难，不过有我的帮助，一切都会好的。我们的谈话让凯特着了迷，她希望和玛格丽特一起坐上扫帚，也希望等到6岁的时候可以拥有自己的坐骑。
谈话真有趣。玛格丽特总是显得那么聪敏，她一般不会相信那些过于奇异和不真实的事情。不过，我小心留意她的愿望，并认真地回答她的问题。然而，我并没过多思考这在现实生活中的严肃性。我想，这些都会过去的，就像人们在小时候做过的许多事情一样。
接下来的几天，魔法坐骑和与之相关的所有话题就成了我们谈话的焦点。玛格丽特问我，她的扫帚会是什么样的：是破破旧旧的、在像手杖样儿的老木条上绑个乱糟糟的刷子，还是崭新的、款式时尚、融合了现代技术的高科技产品？她还问了有关大锅的问题：它有多大？是什么材料做成的？
直到第四天，我才觉得这不是个玩笑。当时我们在厨房，玛格丽特又问我家和学校的往返线路问题，她要沿着高速路飞吗？有乌鸦飞过时，她会掉下来吗？这让我非常吃惊，如同当头一棒。我看着她，她是如此急不可待，如此深信不疑，如此不谙世事。
“玛格丽特，你真的认为你的魔法坐骑是扫帚，你可以骑着它飞到学校？你真的相信扫帚会飞？”
“是的，爸爸，”她回答说，“我要到圣诞节才能拥有一个，我快等不及了。”
“玛格丽特，到我这边来。我有话要对你说。”我蹲下来，把她放在我的膝盖上，用手抱住她，琢磨着如何来处理这个问题。
“玛格丽特，世上真的没有什么会飞的扫帚，那只是童话书或电影里才有的东西。你不会真正飞起来的，这是不可能的事情。宝贝儿，那都是假的，对不起。”她望着我，很震惊的样子。她皱起眉头，嘟着嘴，想挣脱我的怀抱，挣脱现实，她哭了起来。
这是我第一次处理我的两个小女儿所面对的现实与梦幻的问题，也是我第一次要面临是保持还是毁灭她们信仰的抉择。玛格丽特好几天都闷闷不乐的，她又哭了一两场，为骑扫帚飞往学校的梦想永远破灭而伤心。我为自己粉碎了她如此美妙的梦想而自责，但作为家长，我的责任是帮助孩子独立，而不是让她沉浸在无限虚幻的世界里。而且，我不希望在圣诞节那天，当玛格丽特打开礼物时，她才发现只不过是装着假底的玻璃杯和魔术绳而已。
又过了几天，玛格丽特开始问我关于圣诞老人的问题。她希望知道，圣诞老人为什么能在一个晚上走访所有小孩子的房间。我对她的逻辑思维感到吃惊，我现在该怎么办？我不知道。我不能再一次打击她，至少不能这么快。
“玛格丽特，圣诞老人有一点点魔法，他用魔力就能办到。”她对我的解释很满意，相信在世界上还是有魔法存在的，虽然不能把会飞的扫帚算在其中。
Christine 摘自Life
现实最真切，但也残酷，它好似一面光亮的镜子，时时呈现的是一个真实的你。当我们觉得一切都很美好时，会骑在那有魔力的会飞的扫帚上吗？
“I can’t wait to get my very own magic set. It’ll be so neat! Will it have a flying broom? I wish I’d asked Santa in time last year.”
As I drove six-year-old Margaret and her four-year-old sister, Kate, to school, the older girl described in great and fantastical detail her plans for her magic set. It was clear that this Christmas would not go by without one. “I think if you write Santa by Thanksgiving, he’ll have plenty of time to get you a set. Provided, of course, that you’re a good girl,” I added sagely.
“Daddy, you can drive in the mornings to school, and I’ll fly above you. Then, after a few times, when I know the route, I can fly by myself to school. I can’t wait. Do you think I should fly sitting on the broom sideways or with my legs on each side? Do you think Kate can sit behind me, or does she need her own broom?”
“I think you need to be six before you can fly your own broom.” I said.
“Okay, then Kate can fly with me. I hope she won’t fall, though, She’ll have to hang on very tight.” And on it went, until we pulled into our parking spot and walked up the winding path to the school’s front door.
I didn’t think much about this conversation in the hours between morning drop-off and afternoon pickup. However, like a good Swiss timepiece, Margaret resumed exactly where she had left off. As she clambered into the car, ready to head home with her sister, she asked how big the magic set would be. She then imagined how finding her way to and from school would be a little tricky at first, but thought that, with my help, she’d get there just fine. The whole line of conversation fascinated Kate, who was willing to accompany Margaret on the broom and wait until she was six to have her own means of transport.
It was a funny conversation. Usually Margaret is too “smart” to believe something so fantastical, so unreal. Despite that, I gave it the careful attention she wanted, answering each question with a thoughtful response. I didn’t pay much attention, though, to the real-life seriousness of it. I assumed it would pass, as so many things do when you’re young.
Over the next several days, the magic set and all of its accoutrements were the highlight of our discussions. Margaret asked me what the broom would look like: Would it be a crooked old stick with all the latest technology? She asked about a cauldron: How big would it be? What kind of metal would it is made of?
The fun ended on the fourth day. We were in the kitchen. AndMargaret was asking me how she would get back and forth from school. Would she follow the highway, or just strike off as the crow flies? It hit me like a solid thwack on the head. I looked at her. She was so earnest, so naive, so perfect in her belief, so fragile in her understanding of the world.
“Margaret, do you really think the magic set will have a broom and that you’ll be able to fly to school? Do you really believe there are brooms that fly?”
“Yes, Dad,” she replied. “And I can’t wait till Christmas when I have one.”
“Margaret, come here, please, I want to talk to you.” I knelt down, took her on my knee, and put my arms around her. My mind raced, uncertain how to deal with this situation.
“Margaret, there is really no such thing as a flying broomstick. Flying broomsticks exist only in books and movies. You can’t really fly. It’s just not possible. It’s just pretend, love, I’m sorry.” She looked at me, shocked. Her eyebrows furrowed， her lips pursed. She wanted to run from me, run from reality. She started to cry.
This was the first opportunity I’d had to deal with reality and fantasy with my two little girls, my first chance to perpetuate or dash their beliefs. For the next few days Margaret was a bit vulnerable. She cried another time or two, saddened that her dream of flying to school on a broom would never be. I felt terrible that I had taken away such a fine dream. But I’m a parent, and my job is to help my child along, not let her perpetuate a fantasy that can’t be fulfilled. Besides, I didn’t want to be there at Christmas when she opened her magic set to find only false-bottomed glasses and rope tricks.
Several days later, Margaret asked me about Santa. She wanted to know how he could possibly go to every child’s house in a single night. I was surprised by her logic. What do I do now? I wondered. I couldn’t crush her again, not so soon.
“Margaret, Santa has a bit of magic, and he manages it somehow.” She accepted my explanation, believing that there are some kinds of magic in this world, even if they don’t include flying brooms.
“我实在等不及想要一个自己的魔法坐骑了，那该是多么美妙的事情啊！可不可以骑扫帚飞上天呢？如果我去年问问圣诞老人就好了。”
当我驱车送快满6岁的玛格丽特和她4岁的妹妹凯特上学时，玛格丽特开始绘声绘色地描述起她的魔法行头来。我知道，如果不满足她的愿望的话，今年的圣诞节肯定没法过了。“我认为，如果你在感恩节前就给圣诞老人写信的话，他就有足够的时间为你准备圣诞礼物了。当然，你首先得是一个乖女孩才行，”我一本正经地说。
“爸爸，你以后早上开车到学校时，我就在你在上空飞。用不了几次，我认识路后，就可以自己飞到学校了，我都等不及了。你觉得我骑扫帚时，是两腿放一边好呢，还是跨着骑好？你觉得凯特是坐在我身后好呢，还是自己单独骑一把扫帚好？”
“我想你得等到满6岁，才能骑自己的扫帚飞，”我说。
“可以，到时凯特要和我一起飞。但愿她不会掉下来，她得抓得很紧才行。”我们停好车，经过弯曲的小路到了学校的大门，玛格丽特仍喋喋不休。
从上午上学到下午放学的这几个小时里，我没顾上去想我们的谈话，然而，玛格丽特就如同一块优质的瑞士手表，准确地拾起了上午不得不打住的话头。她一钻进车里，与妹妹做好回家的准备，就问起她的魔法坐骑会是什么模样来。她设想着如何找到上学的路，也许刚开始有点困难，不过有我的帮助，一切都会好的。我们的谈话让凯特着了迷，她希望和玛格丽特一起坐上扫帚，也希望等到6岁的时候可以拥有自己的坐骑。
谈话真有趣。玛格丽特总是显得那么聪敏，她一般不会相信那些过于奇异和不真实的事情。不过，我小心留意她的愿望，并认真地回答她的问题。然而，我并没过多思考这在现实生活中的严肃性。我想，这些都会过去的，就像人们在小时候做过的许多事情一样。
接下来的几天，魔法坐骑和与之相关的所有话题就成了我们谈话的焦点。玛格丽特问我，她的扫帚会是什么样的：是破破旧旧的、在像手杖样儿的老木条上绑个乱糟糟的刷子，还是崭新的、款式时尚、融合了现代技术的高科技产品？她还问了有关大锅的问题：它有多大？是什么材料做成的？
直到第四天，我才觉得这不是个玩笑。当时我们在厨房，玛格丽特又问我家和学校的往返线路问题，她要沿着高速路飞吗？有乌鸦飞过时，她会掉下来吗？这让我非常吃惊，如同当头一棒。我看着她，她是如此急不可待，如此深信不疑，如此不谙世事。
“玛格丽特，你真的认为你的魔法坐骑是扫帚，你可以骑着它飞到学校？你真的相信扫帚会飞？”
“是的，爸爸，”她回答说，“我要到圣诞节才能拥有一个，我快等不及了。”
“玛格丽特，到我这边来。我有话要对你说。”我蹲下来，把她放在我的膝盖上，用手抱住她，琢磨着如何来处理这个问题。
“玛格丽特，世上真的没有什么会飞的扫帚，那只是童话书或电影里才有的东西。你不会真正飞起来的，这是不可能的事情。宝贝儿，那都是假的，对不起。”她望着我，很震惊的样子。她皱起眉头，嘟着嘴，想挣脱我的怀抱，挣脱现实，她哭了起来。
这是我第一次处理我的两个小女儿所面对的现实与梦幻的问题，也是我第一次要面临是保持还是毁灭她们信仰的抉择。玛格丽特好几天都闷闷不乐的，她又哭了一两场，为骑扫帚飞往学校的梦想永远破灭而伤心。我为自己粉碎了她如此美妙的梦想而自责，但作为家长，我的责任是帮助孩子独立，而不是让她沉浸在无限虚幻的世界里。而且，我不希望在圣诞节那天，当玛格丽特打开礼物时，她才发现只不过是装着假底的玻璃杯和魔术绳而已。
又过了几天，玛格丽特开始问我关于圣诞老人的问题。她希望知道，圣诞老人为什么能在一个晚上走访所有小孩子的房间。我对她的逻辑思维感到吃惊，我现在该怎么办？我不知道。我不能再一次打击她，至少不能这么快。
“玛格丽特，圣诞老人有一点点魔法，他用魔力就能办到。”她对我的解释很满意，相信在世界上还是有魔法存在的，虽然不能把会飞的扫帚算在其中。
Christine 摘自Life