小鸟为你带来快乐(A Sandpiper To Bring You Joy)
she was six years old when i first met her on the beach near where i live. i drive to this beach, a distance of three or four miles, whenever the world begins to clo in on me. she was building a sandcastle or something and looked up, her eyes as blue as the a.
"hello," she said. i answered with a nod, not really in the mood to bother with a small child. "i'm building," she said.
"i e that. what is it?" i asked, not caring.
"oh, i don't know, i just like the feel of sand.
"that sounds good, i thought, and slipped off my shoes. a sandpiper glided by.
旅游景观
"that's a joy," the child said.
钢铁是怎么炼成的好词好句"it's a what?"
魂不附体
"it's a joy. my mama says sandpipers come to bring us joy." the bird went glissading down the beach. "good-bye joy," i muttered to mylf, "hello pain," and turned to walk on. i was depresd; my life emed completely out of balance.
"what's your name?" she wouldn't give up.
"ruth," i answered. "i'm ruth peterson."
"mine' i'm six."
"hi, wendy."
互相帮助的作文she giggled. "you're funny," she said. in spite of my gloom i laughed too and walked on. her musical giggle followed me.
"come again, mrs. p," she called. "we'll have another happy day."四物汤的作用
the days and weeks that followed belong to others: a group of unruly boy scouts, pta meetings, and ailing mother. the sun was shining one morning as i took my hands out of t
he dishwater. "i need a sandpiper," i said to mylf, gathering up my coat. the ever-changing balm of the ashore awaited me.
the breeze was chilly, but i strode along, trying to recapture the renity i needed. i had forgotten the child and was startled when she appeared.
"hello, mrs. p," she said. "do you want to play?"
"what did you have in mind?" i asked, with a twinge of annoyance.
"i don't know, you say."
"how about charades?" i asked sarcastically.
the tinkling laughter burst forth again. "i don't know what that is."
"then let's just walk." looking at her, i noticed the delicate fairness
of her face. "where do you live?" i asked.
"over there." she pointed toward a row of summer cottages. strange, i thought, in winter.
"where do you go to school?"
"i don't go to school. mommy says we're on vacation." she chattered little girl talk as we strolled up the beach, but my mind was on other things. when i left for home, wendy said it had been a happy day.
feeling surprisingly better, i smiled at her and agreed. three weeks later, i rushed to my beach in a state of near panic. i was in no mood to even greet wendy. i thought i saw her mother on the porch and felt like demanding she keep her child at home.
"look, if you don't mind," i said crossly when wendy caught up with me, "i'd rather be alone today."
夸女孩子的话she ems unusually pale and out of breath.
"why?" she asked.
i turned to her and shouted, "becau my mother died!" and thought, my god, why was i saying this to a little child?
为什么要树立正确的人生观
"oh," she said quietly, "then this is a bad day."
"yes, and yesterday and the day before and-oh, go away!"
"did it hurt? "
"did what hurt?" i was exasperated with her, with mylf.
"when she died?" "of cour it hurt!" i snapped, misunderstanding, wrapped up in mylf. i strode off.
a month or so after that, when i next went to the beach, she wasn't there. feeling guilty, ashamed and admitting to mylf i misd her, i went up to the cottage after my walk and knocked at the door. a drawn looking young woman with honey-colored hair opened the door.
"hello," i said. "i'm ruth peterson. i misd your little girl today and wondered where she was."
"oh yes, mrs. peterson, plea come in" "wendy talked of you so much.
i'm afraid i allowed her to bother you. if she was a nuisance, plea, accept my apologies."
"not at all-she's a delightful child," i said, suddenly realizing that i meant it. "where is she?"
画小仙女
"wendy died last week, mrs. peterson. she had leukemia. maybe she didn't tell you." struck dumb, i groped for a chair. my breath caught.
"she loved this beach; so when she asked to come, we couldn't say no.
she emed so much better here and had a lot of what she called happy days. but the last few weeks, she " her voice faltered.
"she left something if only i can find it. could you wait a moment while i look?"
i nodded stupidly, my mind racing for something, anything, to say to this lovely young woman. she handed me a smeared envelope, with mrs. p printed in bold, childish letters. inside was a drawing in bright crayon hues-a yellow beach, a blue a, and a brown bird. underneath was carefully printed: a sandpiper to bring you joy
