if i were a boy again, i would school myself into a habit of attention; i would let nothing come between me and the subject in hand. i would remember that a good skater never tries to skate in two directions at once.
the habit of attention becomes part of our life, if we begin early enough. i often hear grown up people say, “i could not fix my attention on the sermon or book, although i wished to do so”, and the reason is, the habit was not formed in youth.
if i were to live my life over again, i would pay more attention to the cultivation of the memory. i wou
ld strengthen that faculty by every possible means, and on every possible occasion. it takes a little hard work at first to remember things accurately; but memory soon helps itself, and gives very little trouble. it only needs early cultivation to become a power.
if i were a boy again, i would cultivate courage. “nothing is so mild and gentle as courage, nothing so cruel and pitiless as cowardice,” says a wise author.
we too often borrow trouble, and anticipate that may never appear.” the fear of ill exceeds the ill we fear.” dangers will arise in any career, but presence of mind will often conquer the worst of them. be prepared for any fate, and there is no harm to be feared.
if i were a boy again, i would look on the cheerful side. life is very much like a mirror: if you smile upon it, i smiles back upon you; but if you frown and look doubtful on it, you will get a similar look in return.
inner sunshine warms
not only the heart of the owner, but of all that come in contact with it. “who shuts love out, in turn shall be shut out from love.”
importance of learning very early in life to gain that point where a young boy can stand erect, and decline.
if i were a boy again, i would school myself to say no more often. i might write pages on the doing an unworthy act because it is unworthy.
if i were a boy again, i would demand of myself more courtesy towards my companions and friends, and indeed towards strangers as well. the smallest courtesies along the rough roads of life are like the little birds that sing to us all winter long, and make that season of ice and snow more endurable.
finally, instead of trying hard to be happy, as if that were the sole purpose of life, i would, if i were a boy again, i would still try harder to make others happy.
我信步于居民区内。现在正是晚饭时间,空气中弥漫着饭菜的香味。我的嗅觉并不是很灵敏,但对于吃的总是要敏感一些的:这家吃红烧肉,这家有咖喱土豆,嘿,这家的糖醋叉扁鱼闻起来真不错……我沉浸在了这些美妙的香味中,然后想到了自己的晚餐,真是糟透了。我家那位老太太确实年纪大了,耳聋眼花,原本不错的厨艺也日益退步:鱼是血淋淋的\',汤里忘了放盐,饭也是夹生……不过,今晚我还是吃下了这顿有史以来最糟的晚饭,没有抱怨。因为我了解她心情很坏,坏到有些失魂落魄了。今天是老太太的80岁生日,她一大早就忙活开了:打扫房间,买菜……忙得不可开交,脸上却异乎寻常的泛着红晕。我知道她在期盼什么,她觉得她儿子一定会来。儿子似乎是她这辈子最大的骄傲,逢人便提,他很有出息,生意做得很大,忙得从来没有回来看过老母亲,只是偶尔来两个电话,所以连我都没见过他。但今天毕竟是老太太的80大寿啊,我也觉得她儿子怎么得也会来的。不过,他终究还是没来,取而代之的是一张高额支票。老太太没有任何表情,我在一旁眼睁睁地看着她用颤抖的双手把支票撕得粉碎,漫天的碎纸片像断了翅膀的鸟儿。我又能做什么呢?
我一边想一边走,不知不觉走到了七桃家,决定去看看他。七桃是我的朋友,一只得了自闭症的猫。他从前也是像所有的猫一样活泼可爱,讨主人欢心的,因为身上有七个桃子形状的花纹而得名七桃,主人也因那奇特的花纹而特别宠爱他,我又能做什么呢?
可后来他也像所有的猫一样很快的老了,毛皮失去了年轻时的光泽,叫声变得凄凉,身手也不再敏捷,无法再精准地跳到主任怀里。于是主人不在喜欢他了,渐渐地他成了可有可无的角色,后来干脆被关在了楼底下的车库里,那里终年没有阳光。从此以后他便不再和别人交流了,只有我常去看他,不管怎样,他还是一个很好的听众。今天,我照例爬上车库高高的铁窗,望向里面。直到眼睛习惯了黑暗才看见七桃趴在一只破竹篮里,身体因为寒冷而瑟瑟地发着抖,他怀里抱着一团塑料袋,爪子轻轻地抚摸着它。“七桃!”我唤他,但他没有抬头,眼睛仍呆滞地注视着那团塑料袋。我没有再叫,心里一阵酸痛,我又能做什么呢?
我继续走着,天已经黑透了,但我还是决定去老王那儿吃顿夜宵。老王是一家大饭店的厨师,记得一年前的一个晚上,我因为经不起食物香味的诱惑而误打误撞地闯进了他们的厨房,老王并没有像其他厨师那样嫌恶地赶我走,而是给了我许多好吃的,从此我便常去他那里。老王不爱说话,我也不曾看见他笑,他只会用油腻的大手摸我的头。不烧菜的时候,他就靠在窗边抽烟,被油烟熏红了的眼睛茫然地望着远方。可今天我来到厨房却没见到他,我开始有些不安,到处去找,最后远远的看见他站在一张餐桌旁,桌边坐着一个胖男人,趾高气昂地说着什么,满脸的横肉不停的抖动,老王在一边点头哈腰的像是在道歉。听到两个服务生的闲聊才得知是客人抱怨鱼子酱不新鲜,硬是要找厨师来。谁都知道那些有钱人只是生活空虚,借故发挥。可怜的老王!可我又能做什么呢?
从饭店出来,夜深了。我抬起头,望着满天的星斗,从未有过的悲哀。“喵~”我能做什么呢?我真的又能做什么呢?
我只是一只猫啊。
(点评:本文用猫的眼睛来反映生活中的三个方面:子女如何尽孝,如何对待动物,如何尊敬他人,构思独特,颇具匠心,最后才点出“我”是一只猫,似在意料之外,却又在情理中。)
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