Prose
更正：昨天推送的美文和以前的重复了，还有我的个人微信也竟然错了,私人微信号是xuetang100。向读者表示歉意。
The Miracle of Change
BY PATTI DIMICELI
As a child, I knew I was chosen. Decades would pass until I would learn why.
The summer of 1979 was hot, humid, and full of hope. As a single mother, I worked construction to support my four-year-old daughter, Amber, and myself. It was strenuous and challenging, but the pay was good and my life was finally looking up — until I looked down and saw the lump behind Amber’s right ear. “Oh my God! Cancer!” I silently screamed, then heard a voice. “It’s not you; it’s Amber.” The premonition I had at her birth — that I would die before she was six — was wrong.
Several months passed as I searched for a doctor who would look further. By the time they did, the diagnosis was bleak: “Rhabdomyosarcoma, third stage.” The media spread our story around the world as we searched for all cancer therapies, not just chemotherapy and radiation. We chose an immunotherapy researching center in Freeport, Bahamas.
Amber responded to the immunotherapy, but after that she came down with tonsillitis, and then a new tumor grew. Having left the United States, we couldn’t find a surgeon to help us “debulk” the growing tumor. Dr. Burton sent us to the Children’s Hospital in Montreal, to see if Canadian surgeons could help.
Test after test was performed. In the end, the Canadians could not help her either. We left the hospital and set off to fulfill Amber’s dreams. “Mom, I want to be a ballerina,” she said with childlike joy. We found a dance shop in Old Montreal and left with a complete outfit: tutu, tights, ballet slippers, and real toe shoes.
Settling into our hotel room, I gave Amber a bath and tucked her into bed. I went into the bathroom to take the longest shower of my life. The hot water went on forever and my thoughts began to flow: “Cancer… the tumor… my little girl …my baby. How can I bear this, God? I am so human… so weak. Are you here? Are you listening???”
I sat on the floor and put my head on my knees, then I heard: “I’m here. Don’t look ahead. Take each decision as it is presented, no sooner. You will be my arrow, but I will point the way.”
“Okay, God, show me! I need to see you to know you exist!” I lay down on the floor and cried until I couldn’t anymore.
I emerged from the bathroom and saw my miracle sleeping. I stood there transfixed. Amber lay on her back like an angel with her tutu on, her toe shoes poking up through the blankets, and her arms around her ballerina slipper bag. My eyes looked for her wings, but only my soul could see them. “Embrace the angel. Love her completely. Don’t ever leave her. Don’t ever let her go.”
We returned to the United States and desperately searched for a surgeon to help us… to help Amber live. I found Dr. Bernie Siegel. From the moment he walked into the room, I knew he was different. He shook Amber’s hand and began talking with her, not me. He agreed to admit her to St. Raphael’s to see if he could operate. “What about the publicity, the controversy?” I asked, knowing Amber’s journey through cancer had been followed by the media from the start. After exhausting the traditional treatments, I’d decided to go outside of the “medical establishment” for alternative therapies. It was a decision that was not only highly controversial but might prompt the traditional doctors to file legal action to call me “unfit,” take Amber away from me, and force her to undergo the cancer treatments they saw fit.
“I don’t have to be a doctor,” he said with such confidence that I instantly felt thankful and willing to give up control. “I’ll treat her as my own,” he assured me.
At that moment, nothing mattered more to Bernie than doing what he could to save Amber — not other doctors, or what treating her might do to his reputation, or the controversy swirling around the issue of alternative cancer treatment.
While Amber was undergoing tests, I went to the hospital gift shop. As I stood in line, I heard a voice. “Turn around.” I spotted a large, shiny brass key. “Give this to Amber. It is the Key to Heaven. Tell her she won’t have to knock. She can open the Golden Gates herself.” I knew it was time to let her go.
Bernie began to teach us how to help her cross over, to make the transition between life and death, between this world and the one beyond. Using “Spontaneous Drawings,” he encouraged Amber to draw, and interpreted their meaning for us. She was ready, and now I was, too.
With Bernie’s support and a supply of morphine, I left the hospital and brought Amber home to die. The next few weeks I kept the tape recorder on. I didn’t want to miss a word of her wisdom. She was sent to teach me and to teach all of us about life and about death. “Mom, I know I’m here to help a lot of people,” she said. And the wisdom kept coming.
One day, she called me to her side and gave me the gift that changed my life forever. “Mom, when I die, I’ll still be Amber, I’ll just be different.” I now know that we do not “pass away” and that I haven’t “lost a child.” Death is simply change.
At 12:05 AM, on my twenty-seventh birthday, Amber slipped into a coma. I dressed her in the outfit she picked to “die and go to Heaven,” laid her on the sofa, and stayed at her side. Her breathing was labored. She sounded tired, weary of the pain and ready to be free.
A tear fell from her eye. And then another. And another. “Amber, it’s okay. Don’t cry. I’ll be all right. I promise. I love you.” She could hear me. “Go, now, Amber. Be with God. Be with God, Amber.” As I finished these words, she stopped breathing. Her face lit up and glowed like an angel. My body began to tingle from head to toe as I physically felt God! The only words I could utter slipped out: “Thank you, God. Thank you.”
Amber’s death was my miracle. She didn’t leave me; she changed. I see her in the dance of a leaf as it falls to the ground, the butterflies that visit my butterfly garden, Annie’s (our Jack Russell terrier’s) humorous antics, the things that she left behind. My heart is not broken — it is open to the possibility of seeing her and the many small ways she still says, “Hi, Mom! I’m here!”
Vive La Paris
我是女生，我叫巴黎
[美] 爱斯米 ·科德尔 （Esmé Raji Codell）
巴黎，是一个很普通的小女孩。和其他小女孩一样，她善良、无知、任性、虚荣，想要快点长大，对世界充满好奇。她在学钢琴的时候，遇到了诺森太太。诺森太太为她打开了一扇真实世界的窗户，让她意识到什么是真正的勇气，应该怎样用自己的眼睛来看待这个真实的世界，怎样学会相处，学会宽容。
When I came to school the next day，I no longer cared about being a polite person. It’s just like Django and Debergerac say:
1.1. If you’re likely to get in trouble for doing nothing you might as well get in trouble for doing something.
2.2. When a fight’s coming，throw the first punch because then no matter what happens at least you’ll know you got a good one in， and
3.3. Don’t put your thumb inside your fist when you fight，because you can break it that way.
So when there were only a couple of minutes until recess，I said to Tanaeja，“Guess what，I hope you got some nice ones in on my brother yesterday，because that’s the last day you’re going to get to do that.”
“You and your brother，”hissed Tanaeja.“You always flaunting him，walking with all your brothers around town. You think you all that.”
What she is saying to me doesn’t make sense，but I am wise now，I know things don’t have to make sense，just that I have to take her down because This Cannot Continue.“Why do you beat on my brother?”
“What’s it to you? He can defend hisself，”she said.“Why he gotta be like that? It’s wrong.”
“Like what? He never did anything to anybody. He wouldn’t even know your name if you weren’t up in his face.”I felt myself winding up，like one of Debergerac’s toy cars that has a little coil that twists tighter and tighter before it spins so fast it smells like metal melting.“That’s not right，Tanaeja，he can’t hit you back because you’re a girl.”
“So is he，”said Tanaeja.“He keep acting like that，he going to die.”
You must strive to find your own voice I didn’t even feel myself leave my seat. All I hear is the screech of desks sliding and girls screaming. I feel my fingernails digging into the braids against her head. I feel her teeth wet against my cheek，trying to bite down. I feel people pulling us apart，but we’re like Velcro，little barbs of a long，long anger hooked into each other.“Stop it，stop it!”Miss Pointy was shouting. Luz ran to the intercom button，chest heaving and big worried eyes，looking for Miss Pointy to tell her to buzz the office. But the recess bell had rung.
“You want to tell me what’s going on?”Miss Pointy demanded，checking my cheek for cuts，checking Tanaeja’s scalp for blood.
“Not really.”Tanaeja crossed her arms. “I’ll tell you，”said Darrell.“Tanaeja’s been pushing Paris’s brother around at recess.” “Be quiet，”warned Tanaeja.“You-all better mind your business.” “Oh，yeah? What you gone do about it?”asked Darrell. “Bring it，Miss Dark and Lovely，just don’t expect me to stand here and take it. I’m the man.”
“Oh，don’t start up，Darrell.”Miss Pointy rolled her eyes.
“It’s true! My brother has bruises all over his back，Miss Pointy? I told. I told!”
“No he doesn’t!”Tanaeja exploded.
“How would you know?”I felt my head reel around on my neck in a nasty way.“You think it’s not gone come around，well I got news for you.”
“I’ll take you right here，Minnie Mouse.”Tanaeja faced me.
“Ooo，”said the class.
“What are you people still doing here?”Miss Pointy’s voice rose.“Usually you can’t get to recess fast enough. Trust me，nobody’s bringing anything or taking anybody”The class gave us a wide berth as they filed out.
Miss Pointy looked back and forth between Tanaeja and me. “I’m very disappointed in you both. How do you expect there to be peace in the world if we can’t even have peace in this classroom?”
“I don’t expect it，”I blurted.
For the second time，Miss Pointy looked at me and didn’t seem to recognize who I was. It took her a beat or two before she could speak.“You think your mother needs this right now?”Miss Pointy asked Tanaeja.
“No，ma’am”said Tanaeja，rubbing her head with her forearm. I tried to hide my wondering about what Momma would do if she were called in a second time，but Miss Pointy didn’t seem to wonder if my mother needed this. Tanaeja started looking that same miserable way she uses in church. You’re kid-ding，right? Girl，you have got to be kidding.
Then Miss Pointy told Tanaeja to go and cool off in the art teacher’s room，and Tanaeja didn’t need to be asked twice. Not fair，not fair!
“How come she gets to go?”I demanded，but then politeness set in.“I mean，you don’t have to work on me first.” “I think I do.”Miss Pointy pulled up a chair so I would sit right beside her. Then there was a long minute with just me and Miss Pointy.“This has been going on a while，huh? A lot going on，”she said，finally.
You must strive to find your own voice My mouth was doing a crazy twitchy thing，turning down at the corners，and I could not look at her at all for what seemed like forever，but when I looked up，there she was，looking at me with the most concerned，sad expression I have ever seen. I burst out crying so hard that I put my head down on her desk. I could feel her patting me on the place where if I had wings，they would sprout. “I’m trying to be brave，”I finally said. I wanted her to say，
1.1. Poor Paris，
2.2. You are brave，
3. I know you are a polite person and that you would never behave this way if you weren’t pushed.
Instead，she said，“So is Tanaeja.”
“Who cares about Tanaeja?”I snorted “I want to tell you something，”said Miss Pointy，“and even though you are angry，I hope you will hear me. Sometimes people become our enemies not because they are so different，but because there is something in them that is so much the same，it hurts us to look at it.” “There’s nothing about me that is the same as Tanaeja，” I insisted.
“Maybe there’s something about Tanaeja that is the same as you. Maybe you have something that she also has. Maybe you have something she is about to lose.”
“What?”I asked.
Miss Pointy looked a little torn，like there was something she wanted to tell me but she couldn’t.“Let’s just say maybe there’s something that you share that you don’t know you share. That’s not to say she can beat on your brother.”Miss Pointy straightened.“That’s going to stop.”
“Miss Pointy，it can’t seem like I was the one to stop it.”It was so hard to explain.“He’s got to stand up for himself.”
“It’s hard to stand up when someone is beating you down，” said Miss Pointy.“Sometimes a person needs a little help. I’d even say usually，Paris. There’s no shame in that.”
“There isn’t?”I asked，because 1.I felt ashamed so there must be some shame in it，and 2. Louis says some teachers were never kids and maybe she is one of them.
“But don’t worry. It will look like I’m stopping it，because I’m the one who is. Got that?”I nodded.“Paris，I’ll tell you something else. My best friend when I was a little girl started out as my enemy.”
Luz is already my best friend，I thought，I don’t need Goliath for a friend. But I just said，“Really?”
“It’s true. She used to try to copy from my math test in class. I thought，She’s sneaky，she’s a cheat，she’s going to get me in trouble，and I didn’t want to have anything to do with her. In time，though，I saw that she wanted to do well in school， just like me，and I started helping her with her math before the test. She still calls me，Paris，we’re still friends，twenty years later. But I haven’t really learned my lesson. Even now，there are women I meet，and I’m still so quick to think，Oh，we don’t have anything in common，but it always turns out we have something in common， or they have something about them that is interesting. Maybe not enough to be the best of friends，but it’s enough to have a really good time together. But I wouldn’t know that if I didn’t push the doubts and prejudices aside so there is a little space in my heart for them.”
You must strive to find your own voice The bell rang. Miss Pointy looked at the clock and sighed.
“That space is where peace lives，Paris. That little spot in our hearts that has room for other people，that place where we try to find our common ground. Maybe it’s all the peace we can expect，Paris. But let’s try to keep expecting that much.”
“Yes ma’am.”I gulped.“I’ll try.”
I felt like I needed to wash my face. But I didn’t want to go into the bathroom by myself. I still wasn’t prepared to expect that much peace.
第二天去学校的时候，我再也不关心自己是不是一个有教养的人了。就像迪金格和德贝拉克说的那样：
1.1. 如果你什么都没做也会惹来麻烦的话，那么最好还是做点什么吧。
2.2. 打架的时候，一定要先出第一拳，不管怎么样，你至少知道自己还是打出了一拳的。
3.3. 打架的时候千万不要把大拇指缩在拳头里，那样很容易受伤。
离课间休息还有几分钟的时候，我对塔娜佳说：“你昨天打我哥哥的时候打得很痛快吧，不过你以后再也没机会这么做了。”
“你和你哥哥，”塔娜佳不屑地说，“你就只会拉着他到处炫耀，你就只会拉着你所有的哥哥们到处走来走去。”我弄不明白她到底在说什么，不过我现在变聪明了，我知道有些事情没必要搞明白，我只知道我必须打倒她，因为我不会允许这样的事情再发生了。“你为什么要打我哥哥？”
“这跟你有什么关系？他自己可以还手，”她说，“他为什么要那么做？是他不对。”
“他做什么了？他从来没有对任何人做过任何不好的事。你要是不欺负他的话，他甚至连你叫什么都不知道。”我感到自己气得快爆炸了，就像德贝拉克的玩具车上的小转盘转得越来越紧，几乎都能闻到金属融化的味道了。“这不公平，塔娜佳，就因为你是女孩他才不还手的。”
“他才是女孩，”塔娜佳说，“他如果还是这样的话，死了活该。”
我觉得自己好像并没有离开座位，但是我听到课桌倒地的声音、女孩子们尖叫的声音；我感觉到我的指甲嵌进她的辫子里；我感觉到她的牙齿抵着我的脸颊，很显然她想咬我；我感觉到其他人在把我们拉开，可是我们像维可牢尼龙搭扣一样，这么长时间以来的愤怒像鱼钩一样咬得紧紧的，谁也没法拉开。“住手，住手！”波迪小姐大叫道。露兹跑到内部电话机旁，胸部一起一伏的，焦急地等待波迪小姐示意她给办公室打电话。这时下课铃响了。
“你们想告诉我到底出了什么事吗？”波迪小姐边问边察看我脸上有没有伤口，塔娜佳头上有没有出血。
“没事。”塔娜佳双手抱在胸前说道。
“让我告诉你吧，”德里说，“塔娜佳在课间休息的时候老是欺负巴黎的哥哥。” “安静一点。”塔娜佳警告他。“你最好别管闲事。” “哦，是吗？你想怎么样？”德里问道。“出手吧，塔娜佳小姐，不过你可别指望我一动不动地站在这儿。我可不是那么好欺负的。”
“噢，德里，你就别挑事了。”波迪小姐瞪着他说。
“他说的是实话！波迪小姐，我哥的背上被撞得青一块紫一块的。”我终于说出来了！我说出来了！
“不，他没有受伤！”塔娜佳大叫道。
“你怎么知道？”我感觉我的脑袋用一种想要恐吓人的方式转了转。“你以为你能一直这么下去吗？我会给你点颜色瞧瞧的。”
“我现在就可以把你打趴下，米妮鼠。”塔娜佳对着我嚷道。
“Ooooooo。”同学们炸开了锅。
“你们还待在这儿做什么？”波迪小姐抬高声音说，“课间休息的时候，你们不是希望跑得越远越好吗？相信我，谁也不会给谁颜色看，谁也不会把谁打趴下的。”他们离开以后，教室里空出了一大块。
波迪小姐看看塔娜佳，又看看我。“我对你们两个感到很失望。如果连教室里都找不到和平的话，你们还指望在这个世界的哪个地方能找到和平？”
“我一点都不指望世界上能有和平。”我大声说。
这是第二次，波迪小姐用一种好像根本就不认识我的表情看着我了。她半天说不出一句话来。“你认为你妈妈现在需要知道这件事吗？”波迪小姐问塔娜佳。
“不，波迪小姐。”塔娜佳边说边揉着她的额头。我不想让她们看出我的担忧，我很担心要是我妈第二次被叫到学校来她会怎么样，可是波迪小姐并没有问我。塔娜佳又开始表现出在教堂里的那副悲惨样子来。你在开玩笑，是吗？你一定是在开玩笑。
波迪小姐要塔娜佳去美术老师的办公室冷静一下，老师只问了她一次要不要请家长。这太不公平啦！ “她怎么能先走呢？”我追问道，我感到自己有点太不礼貌了。“我的意思是，你不一定先要从我开始问起。”
“我想先和你谈谈。”波迪小姐拉过一张椅子让我坐在她的对面。接下来是一段长时间的沉默。“这件事有一段时间了，是吗？发生了很多事是吗？”她最后开口道。
我低下头看着角落，不想回答。可是当我抬起头，看到她用最关注最悲伤的眼神看着我时，我忍不住趴在桌子上放声大哭起来。我感觉到她在轻轻拍着我的肩膀，如果我有翅膀的话，那里就是长出翅膀的地方。
“我一直想勇敢一些的。”我最后开口说。我希望她能这么回答我：
1.1.可怜的巴黎，
2.2.你很勇敢，
3.3.我知道你是个有教养的孩子，如果不是忍无可忍的话，你是绝对不会动手的。
可是，她却说：“塔娜佳也是这样。”
“我才不管塔娜佳呢 ! ”我不屑地说。
“我想告诉你一些事，”波迪小姐说，“虽然你现在很生气，我还是希望你能听我说下去。有时候有些人成为我们的敌人，并不是因为他们和我们不同，而是因为他们有些地方和我们太一样了，只是我们不想看到这些了。”
“我和塔娜佳没有任何相同的地方。”我坚持道。
“也许塔娜佳身上有些东西和你一样。也许你也有些东西和她一样。也许你有一些她就要失去的东西。”
“什么？”我问。
波迪小姐看起来欲言又止的样子。“这么说吧，也许你拥有一些连你自己都没有意识到的东西。不过，那并不代表她就可以欺负你哥哥。”波迪小姐坚定地说，“这件事不会再发生了。”
“波迪小姐，这件事不应该由我来插手的。”这件事解释起来实在太困难了。“我哥哥应该靠他自己来解决。”
“一个人被别人打倒时，很难靠自己的力量站起来。”波迪小姐说，“有时候，人们需要其他人的帮助才能站起来，其实我想说的是，大多数情况下人们都需要其他人的帮助才能站起来。人们不应该为此感到羞耻。”
“不会感到羞耻吗？”我这么问的原因是：
1. 我感到很羞耻，所以这里一定有让人感到羞耻的地方。
2. 路易斯说有些老师永远都是小孩，也许她就是那些老师中的一个。
“不过别担心，看起来我已经解决这件事了。这是我应该做的，你明白吗？”我点点头。“巴黎，我想告诉你一些别的事情。当我还是个小女孩的时候，我最好的朋友一开始却是我的敌人。”
我心想，露兹已经是我最好的朋友了，我可不想再有一个魔鬼做我的好朋友。可我嘴上只说了句 “真的吗？”
“是真的，她经常在班上抄我的数学试卷。我当时想，她太卑鄙了，她是个骗子，她想把我拖下水，我不想和她有任何关系。后来我看到她其实只是想做个好学生，就像我一样，所以我开始在考试之前教她数学。她现在经常给我打电话，巴黎，我们仍然是好朋友，二十多年的好朋友了。但是我并没有吸取经验，直到现在，当我遇到一些女人的时候，我第一感觉还是不好，我想我们不会有任何相同的地方，可是后来我发现其实我们也有相同的地方，她们也有很多优点。我们之间可能不一定成为最好的朋友，但彼此之间相处得很愉快就已经足够了。我不知道，如果我不把疑问和偏见扔掉的话，我心里是否还有地方能接受和容纳她们。”
上课铃响了。波迪小姐看了眼钟表，叹了口气说：“巴黎，那个地方就是和平居住的地方。我们心里那个小小的空间可以包容很多人，在那里我们将尽力找到与其他人的相同之处。巴黎，也许这就是我们能够期待的和平，让我们期待这样的和平尽快出现好吗？
“好的，波迪小姐。”我抽噎着说。“我会试试看的。”我觉得自己该去洗洗脸，但是我不想一个人去卫生间。我还没准备好去迎接和平的到来。
BBC news - The science of sleep can be fuzzy and confusing at times. Researchers are still not sure what our brains are up to, why we dream, or what those dreams even mean.
But there are some intriguing things we’ve learnt in recent years about our mind’s journey to the Land of Nod.
Here are 10 surprising facts from the BBC Future archive that shed some light on why we need a restful night’s sleep.
Familiar smells can help to form memories in your sleeping brain, improving your performance at simple learning tasks.
The body shudders people report as you fall asleep are surprisingly common, and harmless – they’re called hypnic jerks.
One small study proposed that learning the didgeridoo aids sleep, perhaps because it strengthens breathing muscles.
The most natural time to nap, based on our circadian rhythms, is between 2 and 4pm. But while napping later in the day is more restorative, getting some shuteye earlier on is more likely to boost your creativity.
A mutation in a gene called DEC2 might allow some people to sleep consistently for only four hours a night with no adverse physical effects….
However, that’s probably not you. Less than 5% of people are natural short sleepers. Most people need eight hours, but around 30% of us get fewer than six per night.
If you go 12 consecutive nights on six hours’ sleep, it’s equivalent to a blood alcohol of 0.1%, which is marked by slurred speech, poor balance, and impaired memory. In other words, you’re drunk.
One theory for why we need sleep is that our brains use the opportunity to consolidate memories from that day. We might also deal with the memory of unpleasant or traumatic events during sleep.
Some researchers have used people’s brain activity to reconstruct YouTube videos they were watching. It’s thought a similar technique could one day be used to recreate our dreams.
Military researchers have found that if you save up sleep in advance by having early nights, sleep deprivation won’t hit you as hard.
(原文选自BBC新闻)
睡眠科学或许让人“雾里看花”，甚或令人糊涂。研究人员依然不确切知道：睡眠时大脑在干什么？我们为何会做梦？这些梦是什么意思？
但近年来，关于大脑是怎样走进梦乡的，我们知道了一些引人入胜的事。
本文是取自“BBC未来”节目档案的10个令人惊奇的事实，有助于揭示我们为什么需要一夜安睡。
熟悉的气味，有助于睡眠中的大脑形成记忆，从而改善你在（睡眠中）完成简单学习任务的表现。
有些人报告，入睡时身体有战栗现象。这是非常常见、且无害的现象 – 叫“入睡抽搐。”
一项小型研究提出：学习吹奏“狄洁丽嘟”- 一种澳大利亚土著的木质乐管 – 有助于睡眠，可能是因为强化呼吸肌肉所致。
根据我们的生理节奏，最自然的午睡时间，是下午2到4点。但是，稍晚一点打盹休息，更能恢复体力；更早一点闭目养神，则更能增强你的创造力。
基因DEC2若发生变异，可能让有些人长期每天仅睡4小时，也不会对身体有副作用……
但是，这很可能不是你哦。这样的“短睡者”只有不到5%的人。大多数人需要8小时睡眠，但大约30%的人每晚只睡不到6小时。
如果你连续12个晚上仅睡6小时，这相当于0.1%的血液酒精浓度 – 特征是口齿不清、平衡不良、记忆受损。换言之，你已经“醉了”。
关于我们为何需要睡眠，有一个理论说，我们的大脑要借此机会整固这一天的记忆。我们也可能是在睡眠中处理不愉快的、带给我们创伤的记忆。
有研究人员已经用人类大脑活动重建了他们看过的“优视网视频”。有人认为，终有一天，类似的技术将被用于重建我们的梦境。
军方的研究人员发现：如果你通过早睡，“事先储存睡眠”，之后被“剥夺睡眠”对你就不会那么难受。
(原文选自BBC新闻）