=============^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^================

                                      幸福是什么？

       一只小狗问它的妈妈：“妈妈，幸福是什么？”

       妈妈说：“幸福是你的尾巴尖。”

       于是小狗每天都试图咬到它的尾巴尖，以得到幸福。可无论它怎么努力，还是不能成功。

      于是小狗又问它的妈妈：“妈妈，为什么我追不到幸福？”妈妈说：“宝贝，你只要抬起头往前走，幸福就会一直跟着你。

                 **--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**--**

                                          生命中的5个球

-          *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

      几年前在某个大学的毕业典礼中，可口可乐的总裁BrianDyson说了一段有关工作与生活中事物间的关系的话：“想象生活是一场比赛，你必须同时丢接五个球，这五个球分别是：工作、家庭、健康、朋友以及精神生活。然而你不可让任何一个球落地。你很快就会发现工作是一个橡皮球，如果它掉下来，它会再弹回去，而其它四个球 ：家庭、健康、朋友及精神生活是玻璃制的，如果你让这四个球中任何一个掉下来，它们会磨损、受损，甚至会粉碎，而一旦落下，将不再和以前一样。

      你必须知道这些事而在生活中设法求得平衡，但要怎么做呢？不要认为你应该与其它人做比较，因为每个人都不同……因此每个人都是独特的。

      不要将别人视为重要的事订为自已要达成的目标，只有你自已知道自已需要什么。

      不要活在过去中或只是为了未来而活，而让你的生命由指端没落。重视现在，把握当下，你将每天过着充实的生活。当你仍可以给予时，

不要轻言放弃；在你停止尝试之前，没有任何一件事是已经结束的。

     不要害怕承认自已是不完美的，因为这是将我们联结在一起的微弱联系。

     不要害怕面对风险，我们在尝试中学得勇敢。

     不要说真爱难寻而将爱排除于你生活之外。接受爱最快方法是给予，将爱所握得太紧将很快失去，而保持爱的最好方法是给它自由。

     不要匆忙的过生活而忘了自已曾经历过的种种事物，以及自已未来的方向。

     不要惧怕学习，知识是没有重量的，你永远可以轻易的带头它与你同行。

     不要挥霍时间和话语，这两样事物是无法收回的。 生活不是一个竞赛，但是在这条路上，每一步都能令你回味无穷。

                                            We are just beginning

                                                      by Charles F. Kettering

     We are reading the first verse of the first chapter of a book whose pages are infinite

     I do not know who wrote those words, but I have always liked them as a reminder that the future can be anything we want to make it. We can take the mysterious, hazy future and carve out of it anything that we can imagine, just as a sculptor carves a statue from a shapeless stone      

    We are all in the position of the farmer. If we plant a good seed, we reap a good harvest. If our seed is poor and full of weeds, we reap a useless corp. If we plant nothing at all, we harvest nothing at all.

     I want the future to be better than the past. I don't want it contaminated by the mistakes and errors with which history is filled. We should all be concerned about the future because that is where we will spend the remainder of our lives.

    The past is gone and static. Nothing we can do will change it. The future is before us and dynamic. Everything we do will affect it. Each day brings with it new frontiers, in our homes and in our business. If we only recognize them. We are just at the beginning of the progress in every field of human endeavor.

                                                      带刺的巢窠

                                                              文/崔鹤同

      生活在美国科罗拉州大峡谷中的雕，用一种特殊的树枝筑巢，为了寻找这种被称为“铁树”的树枝，雌雕一天中有时要飞行200公里。“铁树”的树枝不仅像名字一样坚硬，枝上还生着许多刺，使得雕巢能够牢固地建在峡谷的悬崖上。巢建好后，雌雕还要在上面铺上树叶、羽毛、杂草、防止幼雕被刺扎伤。

      筑巢期间，为了使孵化的幼雕能够存活下来，雌雕尽了自己的最大努力。随着幼雕的渐渐长大，它们开始在窝内争夺生存空间。它们对食物的需求量迅猛增加，以至于雌雕再也满足不了它们的需求。它本能地感到，为了让这窝幼雕生存下来，就必须让它们离巢。

      为了激发幼稚雕的独立生存能力，雌雕开始撤去巢内的树叶、羽毛等物，让树枝的尖刺显露出来。巢变得不像从前那么舒适了，幼雕纷纷躲到巢的边缘上。这时，雌雕就逗引它们离开巢穴。一旦幼雕离巢后向下坠落，它们就拼命地扑打着翅膀阻止坠落，接下来的事情支于雕来说再自然不过了——它们开始飞行。是的，拒绝坠落，就必须飞翔！

     世界上后有伟大的事物和奇异的风景，不在我们站立的地方，而在我们朝它前进的方向。寻找梦想，实现人生的目标，有时要顺流而下，有时又要逆风而行。因此，我们必须离开温暖安逸，把自己托付给未来，踏上未知的征程，去迎接新的挑战。

     带刺的巢窠，不仅是一种深沉的母爱，更是一种博大的智慧！

                                                     童年、老人、馋孩

                                                             （一）

      童年早远去了，留下的只是一点模糊的印象，但就是这些模糊的印象，像刀一般的刻在脑海中，许多年过去了，始终不曾遁去。

                                                             （二）

     爷爷是最疼我的老人了。因家里穷，他宁愿少抽一袋烟，也要省下几个零钱。好让它们变成我童年最可口的糖果与冰棒。 一天，我跑到爷爷家的后山去玩，后山就在公路旁，有棵很高的柿子树，上面挂着通红的柿子。我用石子扔柿子吃，终因力气太小无法如愿。就是我呆呆地望着柿子，希望能像鸟儿一般停在枝上啄吃那些诱人的柿子时，公路上来了辆卡车。于是我便有了让卡车赔我那些无法到口的柿子的想法，我悄悄地摸起快石头，躲在柿子树后面，在卡车快开到山下时，我狠狠地抛出石子。石子以彩虹般的弧线下坠。“啪”的一声正中正头。正当我得意地忘了那些柿子时，卡车“嘎”一声停了下来。恰好那时一个同村的小孩路过，于是一阵辱骂声钻入耳朵。 我怕了，赶紧溜下后山，跑回爷爷屋里。大概看到我想哭的样子，爷爷问我是不是被人欺负了，我咬着嘴唇一声不吭。爷爷心中大为不忍，摸出几毛钱说乖乖你拿去买糖果吃吧……。

                                                             (三)

     也记不得是小学几年级了，只记得当时思想品德课正在教要尊老爱幼的内容。恰好那时奶奶病了，犹豫了半天后，我从笔盒底下取出两毛钱，买了两块饼。兴冲冲的朝奶奶家奔去。奶奶真得病得不轻，饭都吃不下了。但她何尝又读不懂小孙子始终盯着那两块饼的眼神。她用颤抖的手抚摸着我的头，慈祥的双眸里散发着幸福的微笑。后来那两块饼不知啥得又进了我的肚子。做好事的红花虽然没戴着，但我也确实高兴了好几天。

                                                            （四）

      小时候，我挺乖，这当然是那些老人给我的评语，特别是阿婆，每当我甜甜地叫她声阿婆时，她总要说，大弟真乖，（大弟是我的小名，因为在家族中我是最大的小孩），我也差点没得意忘形。阿婆屋后有几棵桃树，自然的这成了我们小伙伴们夏天最喜欢的玩处。但是坐在走栏上纺线的阿婆总会不时抬头往屋后看看。所以我们只好站在树下，眼睁睁地望着与我们个头高不了多少的香喷喷的桃子， 盼望着能像牛顿一样，一不小心发现万有引力之类的。 那天，也该我们有口福吧，一只小松鼠跑上了桃树，于是我眼睛一亮，从暗处拿出早已藏好的竹子，朝沉得最低的桃枝打去。阿婆显然耳朵也不背，不一会就从屋檐下探出头来。我边打边大声喊：阿婆，树上有只松鼠，我在打松鼠嘞！阿婆见是我，微笑着说：是大弟啊！那好吧，你继续打吧……

                                                           （五）

      爷爷很早就过世了，在他入殓时，我还和小伙伴们趴在路边看汽车底下旋转的铁条。如今我已记不起爷爷的音容笑貌了，但我永远也忘不了爷爷给了我无数欢乐的那段年华。奶奶也在95年故去了，前年给她扫墓时，她坟上还只是长了几颗稀疏的小草。最让人惊讶的是，听村人说，阿婆是与奶奶同一天过世的，而且相差不到几个时辰。以至我还曾为奶奶感到高兴：奶奶真幸福，去天堂的路上还能有个伴。

                                                           （六）

      老人们都已故去了，童年也如过眼云烟消失殆尽了。唯留下当初的顽孩如今还为生计忙碌奔波着，每当想起这些疼我爱我的老人时，我便要暗下决心：现在我要抓紧时间多做几件自己想做的事，比如教小孩读读书，给他们讲讲自编的故事等。

                                          你，总会被人想起的

                                                文/布衣

     一小时之前还是阳光明媚，这会儿，突然就下雨了，同学们大都没带雨具，不过因为有朋友送伞，没过多久，教室里只剩下她一人了。

     她年幼时，父母双亡，长得也不好看，在别人眼里属于透明的那种，校园里满是欢笑的情侣，而她永远是这笑声中的一声叹息。没有任何抱怨，她只是默默地坚守着自己的孤独与平凡。

     望着窗外的雨，她有一种被遗弃的感觉，接着有一股想淋雨的冲动，但是没成功，因为她一转身，发现有个男孩提着伞对她说：“一起走吧。” 她很诧异，竟然有人愿给她打伞，而且是男生。

    “可我们又不认识。”

    “帮个小忙，还需要先认识？噢，我可没有居心不良。”

     她不担心这个，因为她太“国泰民安”了。只是有些受宠若惊，有些感动。

    于是，他们同撑一把伞，一路上，认识她的同学，投以惊奇的目光，他调侃：“她们都在看我们，是我太帅还是你太靓？”

    她想笑，因为他一点也不帅，而她更谈不上靓。 到了女生宿舍楼下，她说谢谢。他问，你帮过别人吗？她点点头。他说那么你总会被别人想起的，然后转身走了。

    几天后，她才懂得他的话，因为她走在路上，总是下意识地寻找他的影子，看电视，只要有雨的镜头，都会想起他。这不是爱恋，却是怀念，然后想到自己，自己也帮助过好多陌生人，他们也在想我吧！

    渐渐地，她的脸上有了笑容。她明白了，虽然她是个孤儿，虽然她貌惊人，但无数的善举使她总会被人想起，就像她常常想起他一样，她不孤单。

     你现在读着这些文字，而你无从知道，其实此时此刻，你正在被别人想起。因为我相信这个世界上的人，无论怎么悲惨，怎么忧郁，乃至绝望，他都做过至少一件好事。那么请相信，你，没有被遗忘；你，总会被人想起的

There is a vitality and life force, an energy, a quickening that is translated through you into action. And because there in only one of you in all the time, this expression is unique.

                                                         -----------Martha Graham

 生命中有一种活力，一种精力，一种脉动通过你的行为表现出来。 因为世界上只有一个你，所以这种表达是独一无二的。

                                                        ----------玛莎。格雷厄姆

                                                    I never write right

                                                                By Linda Stafford

 When I was fifteen, I announced to my English class that I was going to write and illustrate my own books. Half the students sneered, the rest nearly fell out of their chairs laughing. “Don’t be silly, only geniuses can become writers,” the English teacher said smugly. “And you are getting a D this semester.” I was so humiliated I burst into tears.

That night I wrote a short sad poem about broken dreams and mailed it to the Capri’s Weekly newspaper. To my astonishment, they published it and sent me two dollars. I was a published and paid writer. I showed my teacher and fellow students. They laughed, “just plain dumb luck.” The teacher said. I tasted success. I’d sold the first thing I’d ever written. That was more than any of them had done and if it was just dumb luck, that was fine with me.

During the next two years I sold dozens of poems, letters, jokes and recipes. By the time I graduated from high school, with a C minus average, I had scrapbooks filled with my published work. I never mentioned my writing to my teacher, friends or my family again. They were dream killers and if people must choose between their friends and their dreams, they must always choose their dreams.

 I had four children at the time, and the oldest wa only four. White the children napped. I typed on my ancient typewriter. I wrote what I felt. It took nine months, just like a baby. I choose a pblisher at random and put the manuscript in an empty Pampers diapers package, the only boxes. The letter I enclosed read, “I wrote this book myself, I hope you like it. I also do the illustrations. Chapter six and twelve are my favorites. Thank you.” I tied a string around the diaper box and mailed it without a self addressed stamped envelop and without making a copy of the manuscript.

A month later I received a contract, an advance on royalties, and a request to start working on another book. Crying wind, the title of my book, became a best seller, was translated into fifteen languages and Braille and sold worldwide. I appeared on TV talk shows during the day and changed diapers at night. I traveled from New York to California and Canada on promotional tours. My first book also became required reading in native American schools in Canada.

The worst year I ever had as a writer I earned two dollars. I was fifteen, remember? In my best year I earned 36,000 dollars. Most years I earned between five thousand and ten thousand. No, it isn’t enough to live on, but it’s still more than I’d make working part time and it’s five thousand to ten thousand more than I’d make if I didn’t write at all. People ask what college I attended, what degrees I had and what qualifications I have to a writer. The answer is: “None.” I just write. I’m not a genius. I’s not gifted and I don’t write right. I’m lazy, undisciplined, and spend more time with my children and friends than I do writing, I didn’t own a thesaurus until four years ago and I use a small Webster’s dictionary that I’d bought at K-Mart for 89 cents. I use an electric typewriter that I paid a hundred and twenty nine dollars for six years ago. I’ve never used a word precessor. I do all the cooking, cheaning and laundry for a family of six and fit my writing in a few minutes her and there. I write everything in longhand on yellow tablets while sitting on the sofa with my four kids eating pizza and watching TV. When the book is finished, I type written eight books. Four have been published and three are still out with the published. One stinks. To all those who dream of writing, I’m shouting at you:”yes you can. Don’t listen to them.” I don’t write right but I’ve beaten the odds. Writing is easy, it’s fun and anyone can do it. Of course, a little dumb luck doesn’t hurt.

                                                Subtle emotion subtle me 　　　　　　　　　

　                                             淡淡的心情，淡淡的我。

I like the subtle fresh green budding from the branches of tree -----the herald of spring , ushering in the dawn .

我喜欢看树枝上那淡淡的嫩绿，它是春天的使者，它是一天清晨的开始。

　＾-＾-＾-＾-＾-＾-＾-＾-＾-＾-＾-＾-＾ I like the subtle flow of cloud that makes the sky seem even more vast, azure and immense.

我喜欢天空中那淡淡的云，它将天空衬得更高更蓝更宽。 　

*-**-**-**-**-**-**-**-* I like the subtle wind . In spring, it steals a kiss on my cheek ; in autumn, it caresses my face; in summer, it bring in cool sweet smell; in winter, it carries a crisp chilliness.

我喜欢淡淡的风。春风轻吻你的脸颊，秋风抚面温柔，夏天的风送来凉爽，冬天的风带来清凉。

 - = - = - = - = - = - = - = - = - = - = - = - = - I like the subtle friendship that doesn’t hold people together. Instead, an occasional greeting spreads our longing far beyond.

我喜欢追求淡淡的友谊。彼此间不需要天天在一起，偶尔一句:你好吗？思念就像发芽一样蔓延开来。　

^^--^^--^^--^^--^^--^^--^^--^^--^^ I like the subtle longing for a friend, when I sink deeply in a couch, mind wandering in memories of the past.

我喜欢淡淡地思念一个人，静静地将自已包围在沙发之中，任思绪在回忆里飘荡。

----------^^^^^^^^----------********----------^^^^^^^^^----------*********------------ Subtle friendship is true; subtle greetings are enough;; subtle love is bender; subtle longing is deep; subtle loneliness is soft;; subtle wishes come from the bottom of your heart.

淡淡的一点友谊很真；淡淡的一点问候很醇；淡淡的一点依恋很清；淡淡的一点思念很深；淡淡的一点孤独很美；淡淡的一点祝福最真。

To be strong that nothing can disturb your peace of mind.

To talk health,happiness, and prosperity to every person you meet.

To make all your friends feel that there is something special in them.

To look at the sunny side of everything and make your optimism come true.

To think only of the best, to work only for the best, and to expect only the best.

To be just as enthusiastic about the success of others as you are about your own..

To forget the mistakes of the past and press on to the greater achievements of the future.

To wear a cheerful countenance at all times and give every living creature your meet a smile.

To give so much time to the imporvement of yourself that you have no time to criticize others.

To be too large for worry, too noble for anger, too strong for fear, and too happy to permit the presence of trouble.

A long time ago, there was a huge apple tree. A little boy loved to come and lay around it every day. He climbed to the tree top, ate the apples, took a nap under the shadow... He loved the tree and the tree loved to play with him.

Time went by... the little boy had grown up and he no longer played around the tree every day. One day, the boy came back to the tree and he looked sad. “Come and play with me,” the tree asked the boy. “I am no longer a kid, I don’t play around trees anymore.” The boy replied, “I want toys. I need money to buy them.” “Sorry, but I don’t have money...but you can pick all my apples and sell them. So, you will have money.” The boy was so excited. He grabbed all the apples on the tree and left happily.

The boy never came back after he picked the apples. The tree was sad. One day, the boy returned and the tree was so excited. “Come and play with me,” the tree said. “I don’t have time to play. I have to work for my family. We need a house for shelter. Can you help me?” “Sorry, but I don’t have a house. But you can chop off my branches to build your house.” So the boy cut all the branches off the tree and left happily. The tree was glad to see him happy but the boy never came back since then. The tree was again lonely and sad.

One hot summer day, the boy returned and the tree was delighted. “Come and play with me!” the tree said. “I am sad and getting old. I want to go sailing to relax myself. Can you give me a boat?” “Use my trunk to build your boat. You can sail far away and be happy.” So the boy cut the tree trunk to make a boat. He went sailing and never showed up for a long time. The tree was happy, but it was not true.

Finally, the boy returned after he left for so many years. “Sorry, my boy. But I don’t have anything for you anymore. No more apples for you...” the tree said. “I don’t have teeth to bite,” the boy replied. “No more trunk for you to climb on.” “I am too old for that now,” the boy said. “I really can’t give you anything... the only thing left is my dying roots,” the tree said with tears. “I don’t need much now, just a place to rest. I am tired after all these years.” The boy replied. “Good! Old tree roots is the best place to lean on and rest. Come, Come sit down with me and rest.” The boy sat down and the tree was glad and smiled with tears...

This is a story of everyone. The tree is our parent. When we were young, we loved to play with Mom and Dad... When we grown up, we left them, and only came to them when we need something or when we are in trouble. No matter what, parents will always be there and give everything they could to make you happy. You may think that the boy is cruel to the tree but that’s how all of us are treating our parents. Take time out during the day for quiet time to listen to your inner voice. You may want to use your quiet time to meditate or pray. However you use this time, the key is to shut out all of the noise around you by focusing deep within yourself. Breathing deeply during quiet time will also help you focus. I know it’s hard to find quiet time during a particularly busy day, but it’s so important — even if it’s just 10 minutes a day and you have to sneak away to get it. Quiet time can really make a difference in your life. It enables you to hear God s peaking to your heart reminding you of His perfect love for you.

 Be the honest with yourself by paying attention to your actions. Actions speak louder than words, and they always tell the truth. What do your actions say about you? If you say you love your job, but your actions say otherwise, which do you think is more true — your words or your actions? On the other hand, if you say you’re not good at a certain job, but your actions say otherwise, that’s also important. What do you do with this insight? You can use it to make more beneficia l choices in your life. By being honest with yourself based on your previous actions, your actions moving forward will be based on truth instead of just what you tell yourself. Despite what your subconscious may be telling you, you can have love with no limits. The key is to unconditionally love yourself first.

When I was growing up. I had an old neighbor named Dr. Gibbs. He didn’t look like any doctor I’d ever known. He never yelled at us for playing in his yard. I remember him as someone who was a lot nicer than circumstances warranted.

When Dr. Gibbs wasn’t saving lives, he was planting trees. His house sat on ten acres, and his life’s goal was to make it a forest.

The good doctor had some interesting theories concerning plant husbandry. He came from the “No pain, no gain” school of horticulture. He never watered his new trees, which flew in the face of conventional wisdom. Once I asked why. He said that watering plants spoiled them, and that if you water them, each successive tree generation will grow weaker and weaker. So you have to make things rough for them and weed out the weenie trees early on.

 He talked about how watering trees made for shallow roots, and how trees that weren’t watered had to grow deep roots in search of moisture. I took him to mean that deep roots were to be treasured.

So he never watered his trees. He’d plant an oak and, instead of watering it every morning, he’d beat it will a rolled up newspaper. Smack! Slap! Pow! I asked him why he did that, and he said it was to get the tree’s attention.

 Dr. Gibbs went to glory a couple of years after I left home. Every now and again, I walked by his house and looked at the trees that I’d watched him plant some twenty-five years ago. They’re granite strong now. Big and robust. Those trees wake up in the morning and bear their chests and drink their coffee black.

 I planted a couple of trees a few years back. Carries water to them for a solid summer. Sprayed them. Prayed over them. The whole nine yards. Two years of coddling has resulted in trees that expect to be waited on hand and foot. Whenever a cold wind blows in, they tremble and chatter their branches. Sissy trees.

Funny things about those trees of Dr. Gibbs. Adversity and deprivation seemed to benefit them in ways comfort and ease never could.

Every night before I go to bed, I check on my two sons. I stand over them and watch their little bodies, the rising and falling of life within. I often pray for them. Mostly I pray that their lives will be easy. But lately I’ve been thinking that it’s time to change my prayer.

This change has to do with the inevitability of cold winds that hit us at the core. I know my children are going to encounter hardship, and I’m praying they won’t be naive. There’s always a cold wind blowing somewhere.

So I’m changing my prayer. Because life is tough, whether we want it to be or not. Too man times we pray for ease, but that’s a prayer seldom met. What we need to do is pray for roots that reach deep into the Eternal, so when the rains fall and the winds blow, we won’t be swept asunder.