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I began to cry from the pain in my foot; but I refused to let Miss Bell take off my shoe。 I could not bear for her and the others to see the hole in my faded red sock。 “e on; then。 Let’s go inside to the office。”
A trail of first graders followed after us until Miss Bell told them to stay on the playground。 I did my best to curb my tears。 Yet; each time the thing in my shoe stung me; I would let out a loud; “Oh; oh; oh!” Tears raced down my contorted3 face。
Mr。 Stewart; the principal; rushed into his office。
“What’s wrong?” he asked。
“Something is stinging her right foot; but she will not let me take off her shoe。 ”said Miss Bell。
Mr。 Stewart lifted me onto his desk。 “Let me take a look。” He just about had the shoe off when I saw the hole。 I grabbed the shoe and pulled it on and held it。 The stinging worsened the tighter I clasped4 the shoe。
“Why won’t you let us take off your shoe?” Mr。 Stewart asked as he looked from me to Miss BelI and back at me in puzzlement。 。。
食袜蚁(3)
Miss Womble; the fifth—grade teacher; came into the office。 “Can I help? I know her;she lives next door to me。 ”
“I suspect ants are in her shoes and stinging the living daylights out of her; but she won’t let us take off her shoes。” related Miss Bell。
Miss Womble was a great neighbor。 She had even played Annie—over with us on occasion。 She put both hands on my shaking shoulders and looked into my distressed; red eyes。
“Oh; yes;” she said; as if remembering a fact。“I had a bite from one of those ants。 Did you know they are sock eaters? By the time I got my shoe off; that ant had eaten almost the entire bottom off my sock。” She nodded her head up and down as she looked at the other two adults。 “Must be sock…eater ants。”
They returned the nod; as if they; too; had been bitten by sock…eating ants。
“Let me see here。” She freed my heel from the shoe。 “Just what I thought。 Those sock ants have eaten part of her sock。”
Miss Bell opened the medicine cabinet; got a cotton ball; and saturated it with alcohol。 Miss Womble slipped off my shoe and sock and shook both of them over the gray trash bucket。 Two red ants fell into the waiting container。 A stray one ran for the wall; but Mr。 Stewart’s shoe stopped him。
My swollen foot throbbed5。 My stomach hurt。 My head ached。
Stroking the alcohol ball across the angry bites; Miss Womble lifted her head and smiled at me。 “I think she’s going to be okay now;” she said; as she glanced toward the two adults。
The bell rang; ending the recess period。 “It’s class time。” Mr。 Stewart remarked; as he and Miss Belt hurried to their duties。
The alcohol felt cool on the savage welts。
“You were a pretty brave girl to take that many bites。 I think you should leave this shoe and sock off for a while。” She helped me off the desk。“Wait for me after school; and we’ll walk home together。”
Pride can be a wonderful; terrible thing。 I knew that Miss Womble had saved my pride with her sock…eating ant story。 She had seen that I would rather be stung to death than to let others see my poverty。 This kind; insightful teacher had taught me a lesson of passion that I have tried to apply in my thirty…seven years of teaching。
无声的爱
佚名
他们相爱在明媚的春日。她曾将苦涩洁白的樱花撒满樱树枝头,一片凄美的花瓣飘落,不经意间,装进了爱意浓浓的信封,对此他一无所知。长长的路途没有尽头,花瓣已经渐渐退色,只留下一股春天的芬芳。笑容溢满他的脸庞,像一个人陷入温柔的回忆里。他不知她曾经来过。
第二年夏天,因为浓浓的思念,她更靠近他了,他没有察觉。她把自己深藏在一只贝壳里.只将爱的召唤传递给他。在那只贝壳滚落到他的脚下之前,已被她握在手中好久,上面还有她的温度。犹豫的脚步在沙滩上留下忧郁的足迹,他在含着珍珠的贝壳前驻足。它是那样明亮,那样与众不同。于是,他笑了。他将它拣起,抛向大海,之后,久久地凝望,像是有过一段温柔的思绪。他不知她曾经来过。
他把她赶走后,忧郁的秋日随之而来。她躲在一棵树后,亲吻着一片飘落在自己发间的树叶,偷偷地望着他,而他没有察觉。她轻轻地将叶子放在如镜的湖面,让它接受九月秋风的抚摸。风吹向他,携带着那片叶子,上面满是她心中的温暖。他对停在脚下的叶子扬起微笑,却不明白为什么觉得应该拣起那片疲惫的树叶,放入怀中再给它温暖。他不知她曾经来过。
那个晚冬,她的生命走到了尽头,而他却毫不知情。一片丝绸和银片般柔软纯洁的雪花,飘落在他的睫毛上,他微笑地看着彩虹般的七彩水滴滑落,不知道为什么,甚至包括这微笑,他都想要落泪。他永远也不会知道,她曾经来过。
这是一个有些凄美的故事。爱,隐在深处,默默地付出,从来不考虑回报,为的只是让对方幸福、快乐。这就是爱,真爱,是一种奉献、一种实际行动。爱虽无声,却深深入心。
The Silent Love
Anonymous
That bright springtime; when they loved each other; she had scattered without him knowing it the branch full of bitter white of a cherry tree in bloom and a delicate petal had slipped; like randomly; in the envelope with the love letter。 The petal had faded away before reaching the end of the long way; leaving behind it only a little spring perfume that made him smile like one does to a mild memory。 And he didn’t know that she had been。
Next summer; when; for missing him too much; she had gotcloser without him knowing it。 She was hiding only to send to him the call of love in that shell she had so long warmed up in her hands before making it roll over; down to his feet。 The hesitating steps leaving melancholic traces on the sand had stopped near the pearly shell; brighter and so much different from all the others; and smiling; he had picked it up and thrown it in the sea watching long after it; as after a tender thought。 And he didn’t know that she had been。
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