论文部分内容阅读
It was my first day as a newcomer to Miss Hargrove’s seventh grade. Past “newcomer” experiences had been difficult, so I was very anxious to fit in. After being introduced to the class, I bravely put on a smile and took my seat, expecting to be shunned1.
Lunchtime was a pleasant surprise when the girls all crowded around my table. Their chatter was friendly, so I began to relax. My new classmates filled me in on the school, the teachers and the other kids. It wasn’t long before the class nerd2 was pointed out to me: Mary Lou. Actually she called herself Mary Louise. A prim3, prissy4 young girl with a stern visage5 and old-fashioned clothes, she wasn’t ugly—not even funny looking. I thought she was quite pretty, but I had sense enough not to say so. Dark-eyed and olive-skinned, she had long, silky black hair, but—she had pipe curls! Practical shoes, long wool skirt and a starched6, frilly7 blouse completed the image of a complete dork8. The girls’ whispers and giggles got louder and louder. Mary Lou made eye contact with no one as she strode past our table, chin held high with iron determination. She ate alone.
After school, the girls invited me to join them in front of the school. I was thrilled to be a member of the club, however tentative9. We waited. For what？ I didn’t yet know. Oh, how I wish I had gone home, but I had a lesson to learn.
Arms wrapped around her backpack, Mary Lou came down the school steps. The taunting10 began—rude, biting comments and jeering from the girls. I paused, then joined right in. My momentum11 began to pick up as I approached her. Nasty12, mean remarks fell unabated from my lips. No one could tell I’d never done this before. The other girls stepped back and became my cheerleaders. Emboldened13, I yanked the strap of her backpack and then pushed her. The strap broke, Mary Lou fell and I backed off. Everyone was laughing and patting me. I fit in. I was a leader.
I was not proud. Something inside me hurt. If you’ve ever picked a wing off a butterfly, you know how I felt.
Mary Lou got up, gathered her books and—without a tear shed or retort14 given—off she went. She held her head high as a small trickle of blood ran down from her bruised knee. I watched her limp away down the street.
I turned to leave with my laughing friends and noticed a man standing beside his car. His olive skin, dark hair and handsome features told me this was her father. Respectful of Mary Lou’s proud spirit, he remained still and watched the lonely girl walk toward him. Only his eyes—shining with both grief and pride—followed. As I passed, he looked at me in silence with burning tears that spoke to my shame and scalded my heart. He didn’t speak a word.
No scolding from a teacher or preaching from a parent could linger as much as that hurt in my heart from the day a father’s eyes taught me kindness and strength and dignity. I never again joined the cruel herds. I never again hurt someone for my own gain.
那是我到哈格罗夫小姐执教的七年级的第一天。过去的“新来者”经验告诉我在开始的时候会很困难，因此我非常渴望尽快融入新环境。在被介绍给全班同学之后，我勇敢地换上一副笑脸，走到自己的座位上，希望能够不被注意。
午餐时间对我来说是个快乐的惊喜，因为女孩子们全都聚到了我的桌子旁。她们很友善地闲聊，因此我也放松了。我的新同学们把我纳入到学校、老师和孩子们中间。不一会儿，有人指着班里的一个书呆子给我看：玛丽·卢（路易斯的昵称）。事实上，只有她才叫自己玛丽·路易斯。她是一个干净的、谨小慎微的小女孩，表情严肃，衣着古板，但她并不丑——也不古怪。我认为她还很漂亮，但我还不至于会笨得如实说出心里的想法。她有着黑色的眼睛和橄榄色的皮肤，她还有一头长长的、丝绸般的黑发，而且——还是卷发！她穿着一双耐磨鞋、一条羊毛长裙和一件古板的镶褶边的宽松上衣，这完全是一个笨蛋的形象。女孩子们的窃窃私语声和讥笑声越来越高。玛丽·卢在经过我们餐桌的时候，眼睛直视着前方，下巴高高地抬着，一副紧定的样子。她独自一个人吃饭。
放学后，在学校前面，女孩们邀请我加入到她们的行列中去。虽然迟疑不决，我还是因为能够成为这个俱乐部的成员而兴奋不已。我们等待着。等什么？我不得而知。噢，现在我多么希望那天放学后我直接回家了，但我从中得到了一次教训。
玛丽·卢背着包，从学校的台阶上走下来。嘲笑开始了——粗鲁、尖刻、讥讽的话语从女孩子们口中说出来。我踌躇了一下，然后就加入进去。当我向她走近的时候，我的领头地位开始显现出来。下流的、卑鄙的话从我口中无拘无束地流出来。谁也看不出我以前从来没有干过这种事。其他女孩跟在我的身后，成为我的啦啦队。有她们给我助威，我的胆量更大了。我猛地扯了一下她的背包带，然后又推了她一把。背包带断了，玛丽·卢跌倒在地，我退了回来。每个人都大声笑起来，并且拍着我的肩膀。我融入这个新环境了。我是一个领导者。
但我心里并没感到骄傲。我心里的某种东西刺痛了我。如果你曾经折断过一只蝴蝶的翅膀，你就会明白我的感受。
玛丽·卢站起来，拾起她的书，然后——没有流一滴眼泪，也没有说一句反驳的话——她走了。我注意到她的膝盖被擦出了血。她就这样把头昂得高高的，一瘸一拐地沿着街道走了。
我转身和我的那些仍然大笑着的朋友们一起离开的时候，注意到一个站在一辆小汽车边的男人。他那橄榄色的皮肤、黑色的头发和英俊的相貌告诉我他是她的父亲。为了尊重玛丽·卢的高傲，他站在那里没有动，注视着那个孤独的女孩向他走去。只有他的目光——闪烁着伤心和骄傲的目光——跟随着她的脚步。当我经过他身边的时候，他用燃烧着愤怒的眼神默默地看着我，那眼神使我觉得很羞愧，刺伤了我的心。他一个字也没有说。
没有哪一位老师的指责或家长的说教能够像那天教我懂得善良、力量和尊严的那位父亲的眼神在我心里产生的刺痛更长久了。从那以后，我再也没有加入到那群残酷的女孩子中间去。我再也不会为了一己之私去伤害别人了。
紫藤花 摘译自 Stories of Teenagers
Lunchtime was a pleasant surprise when the girls all crowded around my table. Their chatter was friendly, so I began to relax. My new classmates filled me in on the school, the teachers and the other kids. It wasn’t long before the class nerd2 was pointed out to me: Mary Lou. Actually she called herself Mary Louise. A prim3, prissy4 young girl with a stern visage5 and old-fashioned clothes, she wasn’t ugly—not even funny looking. I thought she was quite pretty, but I had sense enough not to say so. Dark-eyed and olive-skinned, she had long, silky black hair, but—she had pipe curls! Practical shoes, long wool skirt and a starched6, frilly7 blouse completed the image of a complete dork8. The girls’ whispers and giggles got louder and louder. Mary Lou made eye contact with no one as she strode past our table, chin held high with iron determination. She ate alone.
After school, the girls invited me to join them in front of the school. I was thrilled to be a member of the club, however tentative9. We waited. For what？ I didn’t yet know. Oh, how I wish I had gone home, but I had a lesson to learn.
Arms wrapped around her backpack, Mary Lou came down the school steps. The taunting10 began—rude, biting comments and jeering from the girls. I paused, then joined right in. My momentum11 began to pick up as I approached her. Nasty12, mean remarks fell unabated from my lips. No one could tell I’d never done this before. The other girls stepped back and became my cheerleaders. Emboldened13, I yanked the strap of her backpack and then pushed her. The strap broke, Mary Lou fell and I backed off. Everyone was laughing and patting me. I fit in. I was a leader.
I was not proud. Something inside me hurt. If you’ve ever picked a wing off a butterfly, you know how I felt.
Mary Lou got up, gathered her books and—without a tear shed or retort14 given—off she went. She held her head high as a small trickle of blood ran down from her bruised knee. I watched her limp away down the street.
I turned to leave with my laughing friends and noticed a man standing beside his car. His olive skin, dark hair and handsome features told me this was her father. Respectful of Mary Lou’s proud spirit, he remained still and watched the lonely girl walk toward him. Only his eyes—shining with both grief and pride—followed. As I passed, he looked at me in silence with burning tears that spoke to my shame and scalded my heart. He didn’t speak a word.
No scolding from a teacher or preaching from a parent could linger as much as that hurt in my heart from the day a father’s eyes taught me kindness and strength and dignity. I never again joined the cruel herds. I never again hurt someone for my own gain.
那是我到哈格罗夫小姐执教的七年级的第一天。过去的“新来者”经验告诉我在开始的时候会很困难，因此我非常渴望尽快融入新环境。在被介绍给全班同学之后，我勇敢地换上一副笑脸，走到自己的座位上，希望能够不被注意。
午餐时间对我来说是个快乐的惊喜，因为女孩子们全都聚到了我的桌子旁。她们很友善地闲聊，因此我也放松了。我的新同学们把我纳入到学校、老师和孩子们中间。不一会儿，有人指着班里的一个书呆子给我看：玛丽·卢（路易斯的昵称）。事实上，只有她才叫自己玛丽·路易斯。她是一个干净的、谨小慎微的小女孩，表情严肃，衣着古板，但她并不丑——也不古怪。我认为她还很漂亮，但我还不至于会笨得如实说出心里的想法。她有着黑色的眼睛和橄榄色的皮肤，她还有一头长长的、丝绸般的黑发，而且——还是卷发！她穿着一双耐磨鞋、一条羊毛长裙和一件古板的镶褶边的宽松上衣，这完全是一个笨蛋的形象。女孩子们的窃窃私语声和讥笑声越来越高。玛丽·卢在经过我们餐桌的时候，眼睛直视着前方，下巴高高地抬着，一副紧定的样子。她独自一个人吃饭。
放学后，在学校前面，女孩们邀请我加入到她们的行列中去。虽然迟疑不决，我还是因为能够成为这个俱乐部的成员而兴奋不已。我们等待着。等什么？我不得而知。噢，现在我多么希望那天放学后我直接回家了，但我从中得到了一次教训。
玛丽·卢背着包，从学校的台阶上走下来。嘲笑开始了——粗鲁、尖刻、讥讽的话语从女孩子们口中说出来。我踌躇了一下，然后就加入进去。当我向她走近的时候，我的领头地位开始显现出来。下流的、卑鄙的话从我口中无拘无束地流出来。谁也看不出我以前从来没有干过这种事。其他女孩跟在我的身后，成为我的啦啦队。有她们给我助威，我的胆量更大了。我猛地扯了一下她的背包带，然后又推了她一把。背包带断了，玛丽·卢跌倒在地，我退了回来。每个人都大声笑起来，并且拍着我的肩膀。我融入这个新环境了。我是一个领导者。
但我心里并没感到骄傲。我心里的某种东西刺痛了我。如果你曾经折断过一只蝴蝶的翅膀，你就会明白我的感受。
玛丽·卢站起来，拾起她的书，然后——没有流一滴眼泪，也没有说一句反驳的话——她走了。我注意到她的膝盖被擦出了血。她就这样把头昂得高高的，一瘸一拐地沿着街道走了。
我转身和我的那些仍然大笑着的朋友们一起离开的时候，注意到一个站在一辆小汽车边的男人。他那橄榄色的皮肤、黑色的头发和英俊的相貌告诉我他是她的父亲。为了尊重玛丽·卢的高傲，他站在那里没有动，注视着那个孤独的女孩向他走去。只有他的目光——闪烁着伤心和骄傲的目光——跟随着她的脚步。当我经过他身边的时候，他用燃烧着愤怒的眼神默默地看着我，那眼神使我觉得很羞愧，刺伤了我的心。他一个字也没有说。
没有哪一位老师的指责或家长的说教能够像那天教我懂得善良、力量和尊严的那位父亲的眼神在我心里产生的刺痛更长久了。从那以后，我再也没有加入到那群残酷的女孩子中间去。我再也不会为了一己之私去伤害别人了。
紫藤花 摘译自 Stories of Teenagers