¿ÎÎÄB
The joy of a prideful tradition ¹âÈÙ´«Í³´øÀ´µÄ¿ìÀÖ
I first met him in 1965, when I rushed into his little shop to have the heels of my shoes repaired. He greeted me with a cheerful smile and instant hospitality. \
µÚÒ»´Î¼ûËûÊÇÔÚ 1965 Ä꣬µ±Ê±ÎÒ´Ò´Ò½øÈëËûµÄСµêÈ¥ÐÞÎÒµÄЬ¸ú¡£Ëû¶³ö¿ªÐĵÄЦÈÝ£¬ÂíÉÏÈÈÇ鵨ÕкôÎÒ£¬¡°Äã¸Õ°áµ½Õ⸽½ü£¬ÊÇÂ𣿡± Indeed, I had moved into a house at the end of the street only a week before.
µÄÈ·£¬Ò»ÖÜǰÎÒ²Å¸Õ°á½ø½ÖµÀ¾¡Í·µÄÄǶ°·¿×Ó¡£ \¡°ÕâÒ»´øÍ¦ºÃµÄ£¬¡±Ëû˵£¬¡°ÄãÉú»îÔÚÕâ¶ù»á¿ªÐĵġ£¡±
I sat there with my shoes off, watching as he got ready to stitch up my shoes I'd entrusted to him. He looked sadly at the leather covering the mount of the heel. It was worn through because I had failed to have the shoes patched a month ago. I grew a little impatient, for I was rushing to meet a friend. \
ÎÒÍÑÁËÐ¬×øÔÚÄǶù£¬¿´×ÅËû×¼±¸¶¯ÊÖ·ì²¹ÎÒ½»¸øËûµÄЬ¡£ËûÍïϧµØ¿´×ŰüЬ¸úµ×µÄƤ¸ï¡£Ò»¸öÔÂǰЬ¾Í¸Ã²¹ÁË£¬ÏÖÔÚÄÇ¿éÆ¤ÒѾĥ´©ÁË¡£ÒòΪ»¹Òª¼±×ÅÈ¥¼ûһλÅóÓÑ£¬ÎÒÓе㲻ÄÍ·³ÁË¡£¡°Çë¿ìµã¶ù£¬¡±ÎÒÇëÇóµÀ¡£ He looked at me over his spectacles. \This handicraft is my specialty and I want to do a good job.\moment. \
Ëû´ÓÑÛ¾µÉÏ·½¿´ÁË¿´ÎÒ¡£¡°±ð¼±£¬Òª²»Á˶à¾ÃµÄ¡£ÕâÊÖÒÕÊÇÎÒ×îÄÃÊֵģ¬ÎÒÏë×öºÃµã¡£¡±Ëû³ÁĬÁËÒ»»á¶ù¡£¡°ÄãÖªµÀ£¬ÎÒµÃ×ñÊØ´«Í³¡£¡± A tradition? In this simplistic little shop that was no different from so many other shoe-repair shops on the residential side streets of Washington? The thought seemed a bit absurd.
´«Í³£¿¾ÍÕâ¼ÒºÍ»ªÊ¢¶Ù×¡Õ¬ÇøÄÇô¶à½Ö±ßÐÞЬµêÃ»Ê²Ã´Çø±ðµÄ¼òªСÆÌ×Ó£¿ÕâÏë·¨ºÃÏñÓеã»ÄÌÆ¡£
He must have sensed my bias, for he smiled with a gleam in his eyes as he went on. \the best job on every shoe that comes into the shop, and be proud of your fine work. If you work with dedication, you'll always have happiness and money.
Ëû×¼ÊǾõ²ìµ½ÁËÎҵIJ»Ð¼£¬ÒòΪËûÁ½ÑÛÉÁ˸׏ââ£¬Î¢Ð¦×żÌÐøËµµÀ£º¡°Êǵģ¬ÎҼ̳ÐÁËÒ»¸ö´«Í³¡£ÎÒ¸¸Ç××ܶÔÎÒ˵£º?¶ù×Ó£¬Ã¿Ö»Äõ½µêÀïµÄЬ¶¼ÒªÐÞµ½×îºÃ£¬²¢ÇÒΪ×Ô¼ºµÄϸ»î½¾°Á¡£Èç¹ûÄ㾡ÐŤ×÷£¬¾Í×Ü»áÓµÓпìÀֺͽðÇ®¡£?¡±
As he handed me the finished shoes, he said, \time. I've utilized good leather,
°ÑÐ޺õÄЬµÝ¸øÎÒʱ£¬Ëû˵£º¡°ÕâЬÄÜ´©ºÜ³¤Ê±¼ä£¬ÎÒÓõÄÊÇºÃÆ¤ÁÏ¡£¡± I left in a hurry but I had a warm and grateful feeling. On my way home I passed the little shop again. There he was, sitting amongst his tools, still working. He saw me, and he waved and smiled, as cordial as could be. That was the beginning of our friendship, a fellowship that came to mean more and more to me as time passed.
ÎÒ¼±´Ò´ÒµØÀ뿪ÁË£¬µ«¾õµÃ¼ÈÎÂůÓָм¤¡£»Ø¼Ò;ÖÐÎÒÓÖ¾¹ýÄǼÒСµê£¬Ëû×øÔÚ¹¤¾ßÖм䣬»¹ÔÚ¹¤×÷¡£¿´¼ûÎÒ£¬ËûÈȳÏÓѺõػÓÊÖ΢ЦÖÂÒâ¡£´Ó´ËÎÒÃǵÄÓÑÒê¾Í¿ªÊ¼ÁË£¬ÕâÊÇÒ»¶ÎËæ×Åʱ¼äÁ÷ÊŶÔÎÒÔ½À´Ô½ÖØÒªµÄ½»Çé¡£
Thereafter, we waved to each other in a friendly greeting when I passed his shop every day. At first I went in only when I had repair work to be done. Then I found myself lingering in his store or dropping in every few days, just to chat with him for the joy he would impart.
´ÓÄÇÒÔºó£¬ÎÒÿÌì¾¹ýËûµÄµêµÄʱºò£¬ÎÒÃǶ¼ÓѺõر˴˻ÓÊÖÎʺ᣸տªÊ¼ÎÒÖ»ÊÇÔÚÓж«Î÷ÒªÐÞµÄʱºò²Å½øÈ¥£¬ºóÀ´ÎÒ·¢ÏÖ×Ô¼º´ôÔÚËûµÄµêÀï»ò¸ô¼¸ÌìÈ¥°Ý·ÃÒ»ÏÂÍêÈ«ÊÇΪÁ˺ÍËûÁÄÌ죬ÏíÊÜËû´øÀ´µÄ¿ìÀÖ¡£ He was a tall man, bent from long years of work. What little hair he had was gray; his face was deeply lined. His personality was clear, but never stern. And, I remember best his fine dark eyes, alive with his charitable, carefree, and humorous spirit.
ËûÉí²Ä¸ß´ó£¬¶àÄ깤×÷ŪµÃÓеãÍÕ±³£¬²»¶àµÄÍ··¢ÒѾ»Ò°×£¬Á³ÉÏÖåÎÆ×ݺᡣËû¸öÐÔÏÊÃ÷£¬µ«´Ó²»ÑÏ¿Á¡£´ËÍ⣬ÎÒÓÈÆä¼ÇµÃËûÄÇË«¶¯È˵ĺÚÑÛ¾¦£¬ÑóÒçןÍÉÆ¡¢¿ìÀÖÓëÓÄĬ¡£
He was the happiest man I've ever known. Often, as he stood in front of his door overseeing the street, working at a pair of shoes, he sang a beautiful melody in a high, clear voice. Neighbors nicknamed him \
cobbler\work to referee arguments or give out candy. He had no patience for bullying and would insist the children play fair in front of his store.
ËûÊÇÎÒ¼û¹ýµÄ×î¿ìÀÖµÄÈË¡£¾³££¬ËûÕ¾ÔÚµêÃſڣ¬³¯×Å´ó½Ö£¬Ò»±ßÐÞÀíЬ×Ó£¬Ò»±ß¸ßÉùÇåÎúµØ³ª×Ŷ¯ÌýµÄÇú×Ó¡£½Ö·»ÃÇÏ·³ÆËûΪ¡°Ð¬½³¸èÊÖ¡±¡£Öܱߵĺ¢×Ó¶¼Ï²»¶Ëû£¬Ëûʱ²»Ê±»áͣϹ¤×÷È¥µ÷½âÕù³³»òÕß·Ö·¢Ìǹû¡£Ëû²»ÄÜÈÝÈÌÆÛÁèÈõС£¬¼á³ÖÈú¢×ÓÃÇÔÚËûµêÇ°Ãæ¹«Æ½ÓÎÏ·¡£ One day, I came away from my house filled with fury because of a poor job some painters had done on my house. My friend waved to me as I walked by, so I went into his shop to vent my frustration. He let me speak angrily about the poor work and carelessness of present-day workmen. 'They had no pride in their work,\doing nothing! The undutiful attitude these days is almost a sin.\
ÓÐÒ»Ì죬ÒòΪ¼¸¸öÓÍÆá½³°ÑÎҵķ¿×ÓŪµÃ²»ÏñÑù×Ó£¬ÎÒÅÆø³å³åµØ´Ó¼ÒÀï³öÀ´¡£Â·¹ýËûµÄСµêʱ£¬ÒÑÊÇÅóÓѵÄËû³åÎÒÕÐÊÖ£¬ÎÒ±ã×ß½øËûµÄµêÀ﷢йÓôÃÆ¡£ËûÌýÎÒÆø·ßµØËß˵ÏÖ½ñ¹¤È˹¤×÷Ôã¸â£¬´ÖÐÄÂí»¢¡£¡°Ëû
ÃǶÔ×Ô¼ºµÄ¹¤×÷ûÓÐÈÙÓþ¸Ð£¬¡±ÎÒ˵£¬¡°ËûÃÇÖ»ÏëÕõǮȴ²»Ïë×öÊ¡£Èç½ñÕâÖÖ²»¸ºÔðµÄ̬¶È¼òÖ±¾ÍÊÇÒ»ÖÖ×ï¹ý¡£¡±
He consoled me, saying, \we should not blame them too rashly. Maybe their parents had no pride in their work. That's hard on a child. It keeps a child from learning what's important.\
Ëû°²Î¿ÎÒ˵£º¡°Éí±ßÓÐÐí¶àÄÇÑùµÄÈË£¬²»¹ýÎÒÃÇ»òÐí²»ÒªÌ«¼±ÓÚ¹Ö×ïËûÃÇ¡£¿ÉÄÜËûÃǵĸ¸Ä¸¾Í¶Ô×Ô¼ºµÄ¹¤×÷ûÓÐ×ÔºÀ¸Ð¡£Õâ¶Ôº¢×ÓÀ´ËµºÜ²»ºÃ£¬ÈÃËûÃÇû·¨ÖªµÀʲô¶«Î÷²ÅÊÇÖØÒªµÄ¡£¡±
\¡°¶Ô´ËÎÒÃÇÄÜ×öÊ²Ã´ÄØ£¿¡±ÎÒÎÊ¡£
He pondered that for a minute before answering. Then he looked at me seriously. \
inherited a prideful tradition must start building one. In this country, each of us can make our own contribution to the fabric of society, and we must endeavor to make it a good one. No matter what sort of work a person does, if we give it our best each day, we're starting a tradition for our children to live up to. When a person amends their ways and learns to take pride in their work, a lifetime of happiness will ensue.\
»Ø´ð֮ǰËûÏëÁËÒ»»á¶ù£¬È»ºóÈÏÕæµØ¿´×ÅÎÒ£¬¡°Ö»ÓÐÒ»¸ö°ì·¨¡£Ò»¸öÈËÈç¹ûûÓйâÈÙ´«Í³¿ÉÒԼ̳У¬ÄÇËû/Ëý¾Í±ØÐ뿪ʼȥ½¨Á¢Ò»¸ö¡£ÔÚÕâ¸ö¹ú¼Ò£¬ÎÒÃÇÿ¸öÈ˶¼ÄÜΪÉç»á½¨Éè×ö³ö×Ô¼ºµÄ¹±Ï×£¬ÎÒÃDZØÐëŬÁ¦°ÑËü×öºÃ¡£²»¹ÜÒ»¸öÈË×öʲôÑùµÄ¹¤×÷£¬Ö»ÒªÎÒÃÇÿÌì¶¼°ÑËü×öµ½×îºÃ£¬ÎÒÃǾÍÔÚΪ×Ô¼ºµÄº¢×Ó½¨Á¢Ò»¸ö¿É×ñѵĴ«Í³¡£µ±Ò»¸öÈËÐÞÕý×Ô¼ºµÄ·½Ê½²¢Ñ§»áÒÔ×Ô¼ºµÄ¹¤×÷ΪÈÙʱ£¬¿ìÀÖµÄÒ»Éú¾Í»áËæÖ®¶øÀ´¡£¡± I traveled for a few months on business, and shortly after my return, I walked down the street, looking forward to seeing my friend again. Yet when I arrived, I found the door closed. There was a little sign: \shoes at shop next door.\