勵志雙語散文閱讀

在散文的短小篇幅中,雖然沒有像小說一樣複雜的故事情節和細緻的人物刻畫,也沒有像戲劇一樣大起大落的矛盾衝突,但散文憑藉精巧的謀篇佈局,巧妙的措辭選景,來渲染氣氛,創造意境,從而體現出它獨特的風格。下面本站小編爲大家帶來勵志雙語散文閱讀，歡迎大家閱讀!

　勵志雙語散文：天使的照片

Golden sunlight danced in the treetops, and children's laughter filled the park. The smell of popcorn played on the breeze, and life seemed good. It was one of the happiest Saturday mornings I had spent with my little daughter, Gigi.

That is, until two strangers threw her into their car and sped away. It seemed like a bad dream. I could barely whisper when the police questioned me. For hours we waited, but there was no word on the whereabouts of the car. Tears would start to come. Then nothing. I was numb with fear.

"Go home, Ma'am," the sergeant said. "I'll have an officer drive you. We'll also want to monitor your telephone. The kidnappers might call, and we'll want to get a trace. Trust me, these guys can't get far." After what had just happened, it was hard for me to trust anything.

My friend Gloria came over that afternoon. "I heard about Gigi on the radio," she said. "Everyone is looking for the car. The interstates are all blocked." She took my hand.

"Look here," Gloria said. "I want you have this picture, and I want you to pray with me."

It was a picture of a little girl sound asleep in her bed. Standing by the bed was a tall, blond angel. His hand was touching the girl's shoulder as he smiled down at her.

My nerves were frazzled. "You know I don't believe in that kind of thing!" I snapped. "I'm too exhausted for any hocus-pocus right now, Gloria! I want my daughter home!" I started to shake, and then I began sobbing.

Gloria placed the photo on our mantle and knelt down beside me. "Just pray with me," she said, holding my hand.

I had no strength left, so we prayed and waited what seemed an eternity. Together, we waited by the phone until sundown. The phone never rang.

Suddenly, the front door swung open. I looked up and screamed.

There stood Gigi. "Gigi! Thank God!" I cried, throwing my arms around her. "Where did those men take you? How did you get home? Did the police find you?"

"No Mommy!" said Gigi. "I was real scared because those men said they were taking me far away. We were going real fast on an old rock road I'd never seen before. But then a tall man walked out in front of the car, and they ran off the road and hit a tree.

Then the tall man ran up and opened the car door and pulled me out. He was real nice, and said I would be okay now, and that those men couldn't hurt me. I must have gone to sleep, because then I woke up here in front of our house. He must have brought me home."

"But who … how did he know … where to bring you?" My voice broke and trailed to a whisper.

"I don't know, Mommy," Gigi said. "But he was real friendly, and I wasn't scared of him at all."

Just then Gigi noticed Gloria's picture on the mantle. "That's him!" She squealed, pointing at the picture. "Mommy, the tall blond man dressed like an angel. That's the man that pulled me out of the car!"

I felt chill-bumps across my neck and arms. Gloria turned pale. "Are you sure that's the man?" Gloria asked.

"Yeah, that's him okay. Except he didn't have wings, and he was wearing blue jeans and a tee shirt. But that's him exactly. I'd remember him anywhere!"

Later that night, the police found the injured kidnappers in their wrecked car fifty miles from our home. When questioned, the driver remembered swerving to avoid hitting a tall blond man. The backseat door that Gigi sat by had been completely torn off its hinges.

Twenty years have gone by. We have never heard from anyone claiming to have rescued Gigi. There have been no logical explanations for Gigi's miraculous escape and return home from a wreck so far away.

There have always been things that people can't explain. But, from that day forward, I've never doubted that many of those things are divine miracles. I believe that all experiences, positive and negative, are given to us for our strengthening and learning.

Gigi now takes her little girl to the park on Saturdays. They enjoy the sunlight as it dances in the treetops, the smell of popcorn, and the laughter of children. She keeps Gloria's picture on her mantle, and she re- members her angelic friend. And, like my daughter, I have a faith that has carried me through many trials since that day many years ago.

金色的陽光在樹梢上舞蹈，公園中充滿了孩子們的歡笑，微風中飄蕩着爆米花的味道。生活看起來是如此的美好。這是我和我的小女兒Gigi所度過的一個最幸福的週六上午。

然而，當兩個陌生人把她抓進汽車裏飛快地離開了後，一切便結束了。那就像個噩夢一樣。當警察問我的時候，我幾乎說不出一句話了。我等了幾個小時，但就沒有車開向哪裏的消息。我欲哭無淚，心中充滿了恐慌。

“回家吧，女士，” 警官說。“我會派一位警官開車送你的。我們想監控你的電話，綁架者可能會打電話的，我們想掌握一些線索。相信我，那些傢伙不可能跑遠的。” 經歷過剛纔的事情，我已經很難相信任何東西了。

那天下午，我的朋友Gloria過來了。“我在廣播上聽到Gigi的消息的，”她說。“每個人都在尋找那輛車，所有的州公路也都封鎖了。” 她握着我的手。

“看這，”Gloria說。“我想你有這張照片，我想要你和我一起祈禱。”

這是一張小女孩的照片，她正在牀上熟睡。站在牀旁邊的是一位身材高挑的，頭髮金黃的天使。天使微笑着望着小女孩，手放在她的肩膀上。

我的神經一下崩潰了。“你知道我是不相信那種事的!”我聲音嚴厲地說。“我現在沒有任何幻想了，Gloria!我想要我的女兒回家!”我開始顫抖，接着是抽噎。

Gloria把照片放在了我的披風上，跪在我的旁邊。“和我一起祈禱，”她握着我手說。

我沒有力氣掙脫，只好與她一起祈禱，但是，等待確實那麼漫長。我們在一起在電話機旁等到太陽落山，可電話也沒有響。

突然，前門開了，我擡頭一望尖叫了起來。

是Gigi站在那兒，“Gigi!感謝上帝!”我跑去擁抱着她喊道。“那些男人把你帶到哪裏去了?你是怎麼回家的?是警察找到你的嗎?”

“不是，媽媽!” Gigi說。“那些人說要把我帶到很遠的地方，我真的很害怕。我們在一條舊的岩石路上開得非常快，但是之後，有個高個男人在車的前面走出來，那些人就趕快逃開撞到一棵樹上了。

後來，那個高個子的男人跑上來，打開車門把我從車裏拉出來。他人非常好，並且說我現在沒事了，那些人不會再傷害我了。我想我當時一定是睡着了，因爲後來我在我們房子前面醒來了。他一定是把我帶到家了。

“但是……他怎麼知道……把你帶到哪裏去呢?” 我的嗓子啞了，只能小聲地說。

“我不知道，媽媽，”Gigi說。“但是他確實非常友善，我都根本不怕他。”

正在這時，Gigi注意到了披風上Gloria的照片，“就是他!”她指着那張照片尖叫道。“媽媽，那個高個子的金頭男人穿的衣服就和這位天使一樣，就是他把我從車裏拉出來的!”

我感到在我的脖子和手臂上有寒氣襲來。Gloria臉色蒼白地說：“你確定是那個人?”

“是的，就是他。只不過他沒有翅膀，他穿的是藍色的牛仔褲和體恤。但絕對就是他，無論如何我都會記住他的!”

那天晚上，警察在離我們家約50英里遠的地方發現他們的汽車殘骸和受傷的綁匪。在審訊的時候，開車的綁匪說當時轉向是爲了想避開一個高個子的金髮男人。Gigi坐在後座上，後座的車門已經完全被撕了下來。

20年已經過去了，從來沒有人宣佈曾經救過Gigi。沒有任何邏輯能夠解釋Gigi神奇逃脫並從離家那麼遠的殘骸回家的原因了。

世上總有一些人們無法解釋的事情，但是，自從那天之後，我便深信那些事是神旨的功勞。我相信所有的經歷，樂觀的也好，悲觀的也好，這些都給了我們力量和教導。

Gigi現在每個週六都會帶她的小女兒去公園玩，享受生活的歡樂。陽光在樹梢上舞蹈，爆米花的香味，孩子們的笑聲。她把Gloria的照片放在披風上，她懷念她的天使朋友。像我的女兒一樣，從那之後，這種信念也一直幫我克服諸多困難。

　勵志雙語散文：白色的信封

It’s just a small, white envelope stuck among the branches of our Christmas tree. No name, no identification, no inscription. It has peeked through the branches of our tree for the past 10 years or so.

It all began because my husband Mike hated Christmas — oh, not the true meaning of Christmas, but the commercial aspects of it — overspending the frantic running around at the last minute to get a tie for Uncle Harry and the dusting powder for Grandma — the gifts given in desperation because you couldn’t think of anything else.

Knowing he felt this way, I decided one year to bypass the usual shirts, sweaters, ties and so forth. I reached for something special just for Mike. The inspiration came in an unusual way.

Our son Kevin, who was 12 that year, was wrestling at the junior level at the school he attended; and shortly before Christmas, there was a non-league match against a team sponsored by an inner-city church. These youngsters, dressed in sneakers so ragged that shoestrings seemed to be the only thing holding them together, presented a sharp contrast to our boys in their spiffy blue and gold uniforms and sparkling new wrestling shoes.

As the match began, I was alarmed to see that the other team was wrestling without headgear, a kind of light helmet designed to protect a wrestler’s ears. It was a luxury the ragtag team obviously could not afford. Well, we ended up walloping them. We took every weight class. And as each of their boys got up from the mat, he swaggered around in his tatters with false bravado, a kind of street pride that couldn’t acknowledge defeat.

Mike, seated beside me, shook his head sadly, “I wish just one of them could have won,” he said. “They have a lot of potential, but losing like this could take the heart right out of them.”

Mike loved kids — all kids — and he knew them, having coached little league football, baseball and lacrosse. That’s when the idea for his present came. That afternoon, I went to a local sporting goods store and bought an assortment of wrestling headgear and shoes and sent the anonymously to the inner-city church.

On Christmas Eve, I placed the envelope on the tree, the note inside telling Mike what I had done and that this was his gift from me. His smile was the brightest thing about Christmas that year and in succeeding years.

For each Christmas, I followed the tradition — one year sending a group of mentally handicapped youngsters to a hockey game, another year a check to a pair of elderly brothers whose home had burned to the ground the week before Christmas, and on and on.

The envelope became the highlight of our Christmas. It was always the last thing opened on Christmas morning and our children, ignoring their new toys, would stand with wide-eyed anticipation as their dad lifted the envelope from the tree to reveal its contents.

As the children grew, the toys gave way to more practical presents, but the envelope never lost its allure. The story doesn’t end there. You see, we lost Mike last year due to dreaded cancer. When Christmas rolled around, I was still so wrapped in grief that I barely got the tree up. But Christmas Eve found me placing an envelope on the tree, and in the morning, it was joined by three more.

Each of our children, unbeknownst to the others, had placed an envelope on the tree for their dad. The tradition has grown and someday will expand even further with our grandchildren standing around the tree with wide-eyed anticipation watching as their fathers take down the envelope. Mike’s spirit, like the Christmas spirit, will always be with us.

May we all remember the reason for the season, and the true Christmas spirit this year and always. God bless — pass this along to your friends and loved ones.

Happy Holidays!

December is one of my favorite months as it’s the month of lights, and the month of giving, and thanking. I received this mail from my friend Debra this evening, and wanted to share it. I really think it touches all of us in many ways. As it is said you can never give or receive too many mizvot (in Jewish it’s the act of giving) Maybe it could be your “WHITE ENVELOPE”.

卡在聖誕樹枝上的只是一個很小的白色信封，沒有姓名，沒有身份，也沒有留言。這封放在樹枝上的信已經有10多年曆史了。

事情的開始是由於丈夫邁克不喜歡聖誕節——哦，並不是真指聖誕節，而是它的商業化——超支了……爲了給哈利叔叔買領帶，給奶奶買爽身粉，他在聖誕來臨之際跑這跑那——只能送這些禮物，因爲根本也想不出別的東西。

有一年，我知道他也這麼想，就決定不再像以往那樣買襯衫、毛衣、領帶之類的東西。我靈感突現，想爲邁克準備一個特殊的禮物。

那年，兒子凱文12歲，正在學校裏練習初級摔跤。就在聖誕節前，他們有一項非組織性的比賽要舉行，他們的對手由市裏一家教堂贊助。那些少年穿的運動鞋破舊不堪，好像腳上就剩下鞋帶了。我們這邊的孩子一律身着金藍色的衣服和嶄新的摔跤鞋，着裝與和他們形成鮮明的對比。

比賽開始後，有人叫我去看看對方的情形，他們沒有戴那種旨在保護摔跤選手耳朵的淺色護頭。對他們這樣的隊伍來說那太奢侈了，很明顯他們買不起。因此，最終我們隊給了他們猛烈的打擊，並且也打敗了所有的舉重班。那些男孩從墊子上站起來時，還故意穿着破舊的衣服，虛張聲勢地走來走去，帶着一種不承認失敗的街頭傲慢。

邁克坐在我旁邊，悲傷地搖着頭，說：“我真希望他們能有人贏我們，他們很有潛力，但輸得這麼慘可能會使他們失去信心。”

邁克之所以會有這樣的想法，是因爲他喜歡小孩——所有的小孩他都喜歡——他了解他們，他曾經擔任過一些小團隊的教練，如：足球隊、壘球隊和長曲棍球隊。一天下午，我去附近的一家體育用品店買了一套摔跤護頭和鞋子，並匿名把東西送給市裏的教堂。

聖誕節前夕，我把信封放在了聖誕樹上，信的內容是告訴邁克我所做的事，就是我送給他的禮物。那年和接下來幾年的聖誕節，他的笑容是最燦爛的事了。

每年聖誕節，我都遵循這樣一個傳統——有一年是讓一些殘障少年參加曲棍球比賽，還有一年是看望了兩位老年兄弟，他們的房屋在聖誕節前被大火燒爲平地，等等。

信封成爲我們過聖誕節時最重要的事。聖誕節那天早上，信封總是最後一個被拆開 。孩子們也不顧他們的新玩具了，眼睛睜得大大的，站着那裏等期待着爸爸把信封從聖誕樹上摘下來，把裏面的內容讀給他們聽。

孩子們長大後，他們都要有用的禮物而不再要玩具了，不過，信封的吸引力依然沒變。故事並沒有在此結束，去年邁克患上可怕的癌症離開我們了。聖誕節來臨的時候，我們還沉浸在悲傷中，甚至都沒有裝飾聖誕樹。在聖誕前夕，我在樹上放了一封信，到了早上，信卻變成了三封。

我們的每個孩子，都趁大家不注意的時候，在聖誕樹上放了一封寫給爸爸的信。這個慣例一直延續着，有一天我們的孫子也會站在聖誕樹旁，眼睛睜得大大的，望着他們的爸爸取下信封。邁克的靈魂，就像聖誕節的精神一樣，永遠在我們身邊。

願我們都能牢記過這個節日的原因，永遠記住真正的聖誕節精神。願上帝保佑我們——把這篇文章也送給你的朋友和所愛的人。

節日快樂!

12月是我最喜歡的月份，因爲它是快樂的月份，是給予和感恩的月份。這是我的朋友德布拉今晚發給我的郵件，想和大家一起分享。我確實認爲它在很多方面都打動了我們，信上說你給予或者接受給予再多也不過分，或許它就是你的“白色信封”。