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What in the world was I doing in 1)Miami, Florida, poor and alone in a rich and sophisticated place?
It was thirty years ago, and I was a finalist in the 2)Pillsbury Bake-Off. I had entered three recipes, and remarkably, I was chosen as a finalist out of thousands of 3)entries. I remember clearly the voice of the woman on the other end of the phone.
“Congratulations! You are a finalist in the Pillsbury Bake-Off.”
“No. Who is this, really?” I asked, totally 4)dumbfounded. She laughed as I insisted on calling back and verifying. Wow! It was true! I really was a finalist. I was 5)ecstatic. How could this be happening?
Pillsbury flew everyone to Miami. Then they 6)whisked us away to the famous 7)Fontainebleau Hilton in Miami Beach. I was stunned just to be there in the fabulous surroundings. The food was incredible, and the settings were like nothing I had ever seen. Nothing could 8)top this, I thought, but I was about to learn one of the greatest lessons of my life.
The waiters and waitresses were all Cuban, and they spoke not a word of English. I couldn’t help but notice anger in their expressions. It was not long before I understood why. They were ignored as though they didn’t exist. No one even gave them a smile. I quickly lost my appetite and barely touched my food. I tried, with difficulty, to keep up with the questions of a very nice Vice President of a Pillsbury 9)subsidiary. I was unsuccessful, but it didn’t matter, because I was now a witness to the painful struggle of refugees from another land.
Were the refugees as overwhelmed as I? Did they feel as out of place, surrounded by wealthy people, who had no idea of what it was like to have nothing? Our situations were different, yet I felt that we were very much alike. I didn’t know what to say to the people around me, and neither did they. I didn’t understand the chatter, almost as much as they.
All of a sudden, I decided to do something about their situation. I wanted desperately to make them feel visible, important, and welcome in their new country. From somewhere deep inside of me, I began pulling out rusty expressions from my four years of high school Spanish. I could only remember a few phrases in their language, yet with that first phrase, “10)Gracias,” I 11)beheld a remarkable transformation. Warm, brown faces took on a shocked and delighted glow. “12)De nada!” my delighted waiter replied. “It was nothing,” he said, in 13)halting English. So it began, my bad Spanish communicating with another’s bad English. I was enchanted by the happiness I saw in their faces. Did they feel more welcome in their new home? I hoped so.
After breakfast we were led into a converted ballroom. A hundred stoves and refrigerators were packed inside. We had just a few hours to complete our recipes twice: one entry for pictures and one for the judges, who were kept in 14)seclusion. I was one of the first contestants finished. Exhausted, I went up to my room to rest, greeting many smiling Cubans along the way.
That evening we were treated to a huge award ceremony dinner. No one ate much, and as they began to name the winners, there was 15)sporadic applause from their family and friends. If I were a winner, I thought sadly, there would be no one to applaud for me.
I was amazed when I heard my name called out. As I stood, the room erupted in thunderous applause. What in the world?! I turned to look, and I saw dozens of smiling Cubans, waving and cheering for me. Stunned, and blind with tears, I reached out for my prize.
16)Bob Barker handed me my 17)check and said, “You must have a lot of friends.” “I do now,” I smiled, 18)choking back tears. In that brief moment, I understood that my “prize” was neither money nor my fifteen minutes of fame. My true reward, I told my children later, was in learning that one small kindness can bring unexpected return.
繁华复杂的佛罗里达州迈阿密市,穷困孤单的我,来这里到底干嘛?
那已经是三十年前的事了,我是皮尔斯博瑞烘焙大赛的一名决赛选手。当时我上报了三款自创烘焙食谱,后来,我相当厉害地从成千上万的报名选手中脱颖而出,进入了决赛。我清楚地记得当时电话另一端那位女士的声音。
“祝贺你!你入选皮尔斯博瑞烘焙大赛决赛了。”
“不是吧。请问你是哪位,说真的?”我问道,完全傻了。当我坚持说要打回去核实一下时,她大笑起来。哇!这是真的!我真的入围了决赛。我欣喜若狂。这怎么可能呢?
皮尔斯博瑞大赛组委会出资让决赛选手们飞往迈阿密,然后他们迅速地将我们带往位于迈阿密海滩的枫丹白露希尔顿酒店。单单是身处这等美妙的环境中,就已经让我目瞪口呆了。食物无比美味,周围环境布置是我从来没见识过的。没有哪里能与之相媲美,我想着,然而,我将学到人生中的一大宝贵经验。
酒店里的男女侍者都是古巴人,他们一句英文都不会说。我不由自主地注意到他们的表情里蕴含着愤怒。不久,我就明白了其中的原因。人们对其视而不见,仿佛他们根本就不存在似的,甚至没有人向其报以微笑。我很快就失去了胃口,几乎动都没动我的食物。我硬着头皮努力想跟上皮尔斯博瑞某间子公司一位相当和蔼的副总裁的思路,回答他的问题。可是我没有成功,但这无关紧要,因为此时我关注到的是来自另一片土地的“难民们”的痛苦挣扎。
这些“难民们”是否和我一样不知所措?被这些富有、从不知道什么叫“一无所有”的人包围着,他们是否感到自己格格不入?我们的情况不一样,但我却觉得我们极其相似。我不知道要对身边的这些人说些什么,他们亦然。我不明白这喋喋不休的扯谈,他们也差不多如此。
突然之间,我决定为那处境中的他们做些什么。我很想让他们感觉到自己在这个新的国度里是受关注的、重要的,并且受欢迎的。在脑海深处,我开始回忆高中四年所学的西班牙语,努力从中搜寻出一些早已“生锈”的措辞。我只记得一些西班牙语词句,但伴随着那第一个词语,“Gracias(谢谢)”,我看到了一点显著的变化。他们那温暖的褐色脸庞上泛起了一种又惊又喜的光彩。“De nada(不客气)!”我的侍者欣喜地回答道,“这没什么,”他结结巴巴地用英语回答道。于是就这么开始了,我用蹩脚的西班牙语,另一个人用蹩脚的英语,两人交流起来。我沉浸在他们脸上展现的快乐中。他们在这个“新家”里是否感受到了更多的欢迎呢?我希望如此。
早餐过后,我们被带进了一间经过改装的宴会舞厅里。里面摆放了一百只炉子和冰箱。我们只有几个小时的时间来完成我们的美食创作,一款做两份。一份用来拍照,而另一份则交给评委,评委们都被隔离开来了。我是最早完成任务的选手之一。我筋疲力尽地回到我的房间休息,一路上向许多笑容满面的古巴人打招呼。
那天傍晚,我们获邀参加大型的颁奖典礼晚宴。每个人都吃得不多,而当他们开始宣布获胜者名单时,获奖者的家人和朋友那里响起了零星的掌声。我难过地想着,要是我获奖了,应该没有人会为我鼓掌。
当我听到自己的名字被叫到时,我很是吃惊。当我站起来时,房间里爆发出了雷鸣般的掌声。到底是怎么回事?!我向四周张望,看见数十个古巴人在向我挥手欢呼。我惊愕不已,拿到我的奖杯时,眼泪模糊了我的双眼。
鲍勃·贝克尔一边为我颁奖一边对我说:“你一定拥有很多朋友。”“我现在的确如此,”我忍住泪水微笑道。在那短短的一瞬间,我明白了,我的“奖励”既不是金钱,也不是我这15分钟的名声。我得到的真正的“奖励”,之后我告诉我的孩子们,就是学到了:一点小小的善行能够带来意想不到的回报。
It was thirty years ago, and I was a finalist in the 2)Pillsbury Bake-Off. I had entered three recipes, and remarkably, I was chosen as a finalist out of thousands of 3)entries. I remember clearly the voice of the woman on the other end of the phone.
“Congratulations! You are a finalist in the Pillsbury Bake-Off.”
“No. Who is this, really?” I asked, totally 4)dumbfounded. She laughed as I insisted on calling back and verifying. Wow! It was true! I really was a finalist. I was 5)ecstatic. How could this be happening?
Pillsbury flew everyone to Miami. Then they 6)whisked us away to the famous 7)Fontainebleau Hilton in Miami Beach. I was stunned just to be there in the fabulous surroundings. The food was incredible, and the settings were like nothing I had ever seen. Nothing could 8)top this, I thought, but I was about to learn one of the greatest lessons of my life.
The waiters and waitresses were all Cuban, and they spoke not a word of English. I couldn’t help but notice anger in their expressions. It was not long before I understood why. They were ignored as though they didn’t exist. No one even gave them a smile. I quickly lost my appetite and barely touched my food. I tried, with difficulty, to keep up with the questions of a very nice Vice President of a Pillsbury 9)subsidiary. I was unsuccessful, but it didn’t matter, because I was now a witness to the painful struggle of refugees from another land.
Were the refugees as overwhelmed as I? Did they feel as out of place, surrounded by wealthy people, who had no idea of what it was like to have nothing? Our situations were different, yet I felt that we were very much alike. I didn’t know what to say to the people around me, and neither did they. I didn’t understand the chatter, almost as much as they.
All of a sudden, I decided to do something about their situation. I wanted desperately to make them feel visible, important, and welcome in their new country. From somewhere deep inside of me, I began pulling out rusty expressions from my four years of high school Spanish. I could only remember a few phrases in their language, yet with that first phrase, “10)Gracias,” I 11)beheld a remarkable transformation. Warm, brown faces took on a shocked and delighted glow. “12)De nada!” my delighted waiter replied. “It was nothing,” he said, in 13)halting English. So it began, my bad Spanish communicating with another’s bad English. I was enchanted by the happiness I saw in their faces. Did they feel more welcome in their new home? I hoped so.
After breakfast we were led into a converted ballroom. A hundred stoves and refrigerators were packed inside. We had just a few hours to complete our recipes twice: one entry for pictures and one for the judges, who were kept in 14)seclusion. I was one of the first contestants finished. Exhausted, I went up to my room to rest, greeting many smiling Cubans along the way.
That evening we were treated to a huge award ceremony dinner. No one ate much, and as they began to name the winners, there was 15)sporadic applause from their family and friends. If I were a winner, I thought sadly, there would be no one to applaud for me.
I was amazed when I heard my name called out. As I stood, the room erupted in thunderous applause. What in the world?! I turned to look, and I saw dozens of smiling Cubans, waving and cheering for me. Stunned, and blind with tears, I reached out for my prize.
16)Bob Barker handed me my 17)check and said, “You must have a lot of friends.” “I do now,” I smiled, 18)choking back tears. In that brief moment, I understood that my “prize” was neither money nor my fifteen minutes of fame. My true reward, I told my children later, was in learning that one small kindness can bring unexpected return.
繁华复杂的佛罗里达州迈阿密市,穷困孤单的我,来这里到底干嘛?
那已经是三十年前的事了,我是皮尔斯博瑞烘焙大赛的一名决赛选手。当时我上报了三款自创烘焙食谱,后来,我相当厉害地从成千上万的报名选手中脱颖而出,进入了决赛。我清楚地记得当时电话另一端那位女士的声音。
“祝贺你!你入选皮尔斯博瑞烘焙大赛决赛了。”
“不是吧。请问你是哪位,说真的?”我问道,完全傻了。当我坚持说要打回去核实一下时,她大笑起来。哇!这是真的!我真的入围了决赛。我欣喜若狂。这怎么可能呢?
皮尔斯博瑞大赛组委会出资让决赛选手们飞往迈阿密,然后他们迅速地将我们带往位于迈阿密海滩的枫丹白露希尔顿酒店。单单是身处这等美妙的环境中,就已经让我目瞪口呆了。食物无比美味,周围环境布置是我从来没见识过的。没有哪里能与之相媲美,我想着,然而,我将学到人生中的一大宝贵经验。
酒店里的男女侍者都是古巴人,他们一句英文都不会说。我不由自主地注意到他们的表情里蕴含着愤怒。不久,我就明白了其中的原因。人们对其视而不见,仿佛他们根本就不存在似的,甚至没有人向其报以微笑。我很快就失去了胃口,几乎动都没动我的食物。我硬着头皮努力想跟上皮尔斯博瑞某间子公司一位相当和蔼的副总裁的思路,回答他的问题。可是我没有成功,但这无关紧要,因为此时我关注到的是来自另一片土地的“难民们”的痛苦挣扎。
这些“难民们”是否和我一样不知所措?被这些富有、从不知道什么叫“一无所有”的人包围着,他们是否感到自己格格不入?我们的情况不一样,但我却觉得我们极其相似。我不知道要对身边的这些人说些什么,他们亦然。我不明白这喋喋不休的扯谈,他们也差不多如此。
突然之间,我决定为那处境中的他们做些什么。我很想让他们感觉到自己在这个新的国度里是受关注的、重要的,并且受欢迎的。在脑海深处,我开始回忆高中四年所学的西班牙语,努力从中搜寻出一些早已“生锈”的措辞。我只记得一些西班牙语词句,但伴随着那第一个词语,“Gracias(谢谢)”,我看到了一点显著的变化。他们那温暖的褐色脸庞上泛起了一种又惊又喜的光彩。“De nada(不客气)!”我的侍者欣喜地回答道,“这没什么,”他结结巴巴地用英语回答道。于是就这么开始了,我用蹩脚的西班牙语,另一个人用蹩脚的英语,两人交流起来。我沉浸在他们脸上展现的快乐中。他们在这个“新家”里是否感受到了更多的欢迎呢?我希望如此。
早餐过后,我们被带进了一间经过改装的宴会舞厅里。里面摆放了一百只炉子和冰箱。我们只有几个小时的时间来完成我们的美食创作,一款做两份。一份用来拍照,而另一份则交给评委,评委们都被隔离开来了。我是最早完成任务的选手之一。我筋疲力尽地回到我的房间休息,一路上向许多笑容满面的古巴人打招呼。
那天傍晚,我们获邀参加大型的颁奖典礼晚宴。每个人都吃得不多,而当他们开始宣布获胜者名单时,获奖者的家人和朋友那里响起了零星的掌声。我难过地想着,要是我获奖了,应该没有人会为我鼓掌。
当我听到自己的名字被叫到时,我很是吃惊。当我站起来时,房间里爆发出了雷鸣般的掌声。到底是怎么回事?!我向四周张望,看见数十个古巴人在向我挥手欢呼。我惊愕不已,拿到我的奖杯时,眼泪模糊了我的双眼。
鲍勃·贝克尔一边为我颁奖一边对我说:“你一定拥有很多朋友。”“我现在的确如此,”我忍住泪水微笑道。在那短短的一瞬间,我明白了,我的“奖励”既不是金钱,也不是我这15分钟的名声。我得到的真正的“奖励”,之后我告诉我的孩子们,就是学到了:一点小小的善行能够带来意想不到的回报。