学习啦【英语文摘】 编辑：韦彦 发布时间：2016-08-30 11:16:00
仙女的新年礼物 The Fairy's New Year Gift
The Fairy's New Year Gift 仙女的新年礼物 by Emilie Poulsson，这个故事告诉大家，时间在溜走，看似抓不着，但是他在某处记满了你此生所做的事，好事，坏事。珍惜时间，用心灵谱写自己的人生
Two little boys were at play one day when a Fairy suddenly appeared before them and said, "I have been sent to give you New Year presents."She handed to each child a package, and in an instant was gone.
Carl and Philip opened the packages and found in them two beautiful books, with pages as pure and white as the snow when it first falls.
Many months passed and the Fairy came again to the boys. "I have brought you each another book?" said she, "and will take the first ones back to Father Time who sent them to you."
"May I not keep mine a little longer?" asked Philip. "I have hardly thought about it lately. I'd like to paint something on the last leaf that lies open."
"No," said the Fairy; "I must take it just as it is."
"I wish that I could look through mine just once," said Carl; "I have only seen one page at a time, for when the leaf turns over it sticks fast, and I can never open the book at more than one place each day."
"You shall look at your book," said the Fairy, "and Philip, at his." And she lit for them two little silver lamps, by the light of which they saw the pages as she turned them.
The boys looked in wonder. Could it be that these were the same fair books she had given them a year ago? Where were the clean, white pages, as pure and beautiful as the snow when it first falls? Here was a page with ugly, black spots and scratches upon it; while the very next page showed a lovely little picture. Some pages were decorated with gold and silver and gorgeous colors, others with beautiful flowers, and still others with a rainbow of softest, most delicate brightness. Yet even on the most beautiful of the pages there were ugly blots and scratches.
Carl and Philip looked up at the Fairy at last.
"Who did this?" they asked. "Every page was white and fair as we opened to it; yet now there is not a single blank place in the whole book!"
"Shall I explain some of the pictures to you?" said the Fairy, smiling at the two little boys.
"See, Philip, the spray of roses blossomed on this page when you let the baby have your playthings; and this pretty bird, that looks as if it were singing with all its might, would never have been on this page if you had not tried to be kind and pleasant the other day, instead of quarreling."
"But what makes this blot?" asked Philip.
"That," said the Fairy sadly; "that came when you told an untruth one day, and this when you did not mind mamma. All these blots and scratches that look so ugly, both in your book and in Carl's, were made when you were naughty. Each pretty thing in your books came on its page when you were good."
"Oh, if we could only have the books again!" said Carl and Philip.
"That cannot be," said the Fairy. "See! they are dated for this year, and they must now go back into Father Time's bookcase, but I have brought you each a new one. Perhaps you can make these more beautiful than the others."
So saying, she vanished, and the boys were left alone, but each held in his hand a new book open at the first page.
And on the back of this book was written in letters of gold, "For the New Year."
There once were two poor woodsmen who made a living by collecting woods in the mountain. One day, they happened to discover two large bag of cotton in the mountain and felt surprisingly happy. The cotton was light but valuable, so they carried it on their back and went back home.
When they were walking home, one of the woodsmen spotted a large bundle of cloth beside the road. So he discussed with his partner whether to discard the cotton and take the cloth instead. But his partner held a different view that since he had carried the cotton for such a long way, he would not change it with cloth because all his previous effort would turn out to be in vain. Therefore, the other woodsman abandoned the cotton and carried the cloth on his back. After walking for a while, the woodsman who carried the cloth spotted several jars of gold disseminated on the ground not far away. He felt so thrilled that he was going to be a wealthy man. So he gave up the cloth and used his carrying pole to carry two jars of gold, while his partner was still reluctant to abandon the cotton and wondering whether the gold was real or not.
However, when they just went down to the foot of the mountain, it began to rain all of a sudden. Both of them were wet from head to toes. More unfortunately, the woodsman who carried the cotton found that his cotton had absorbed tons of water and became so heavy that he could no longer go on carrying it. Desperately, he had to abandon the cotton and went back home empty-handed with his partner carrying gold.
This story implies that we should deliberately utilize our wisdom and intelligence to make the right choice in face of every critical point in our life. Meantime, we should not forget to review all the choices we have carefully and adjust our goal accordingly. We should learn to view a certain issue from different angles and avoid being stubborn. By opening your mind to the right choice, you will be guided to a smoother way to success.
Is Here For The Sake of Other Men 人是为了别人而活着
Strange is our situation here upon earth. Each of us comes for a short visit, not knowing why, yet sometimes seeming to divine a purpose.
From the standpoint of daily life, however, there is one thing we do know that man is here for the sake of other men --- above all for those upon whose smile and well-being our own happiness depends, and also for the countless unknown souls with whose fate we are connected by a bond of sympathy. Many times a day I realize how much my own outer and inner life is built upon the labors of my fellow men, both living and dead, and how earnestly I must exert myself in order to give in return as much as I have received. My peace of mind is often troubled by the depressing sense that I have borrowed too heavily from the work of other men.
To ponder interminably over the reason for one’s own existence or the meaning of life in general seems to me, from an objective point of view, to be sheer folly. And yet everyone holds certain ideals by which he guides his aspiration and his judgment. The ideals which have always shone before me and filled me with the joy of living are goodness, beauty, and truth. To make a goal of comfort and happiness has never appealed to me; a system of ethics built on this basis would be sufficient only for a herd of cattle.