It was a cold night in Washington, D.C., and I was heading back to the hotel when a man approached me. He asked if I would give him some money so he could get something to eat. I'd read the signs: "Don't give money to panhandlers ." So I shook my head and kept walking.
那是華盛頓一個(gè)寒冷的夜晚,我正往旅館走,這時(shí)一個(gè)男子走近我。他問我能否給他些錢,以便能買些吃的。我看過警示牌“不要給乞丐錢”,于是我搖了搖頭,繼續(xù)走。
I wasn't prepared for a reply, but with resignation, he said, "I really am homeless and I really am hungry! You can come with me and watch me eat!" But I kept on walking.
我沒打算回答,那個(gè)男人卑微地說(shuō)道“我真的無(wú)家可歸,而且我真的很餓,你可以和我一起來(lái),看著我吃!”但我只是繼續(xù)走路。
The incident bothered me for the rest of the week. I had money in my pocket and it wouldn't have killed me to hand over a buck or two even if he had been lying. On a frigid , cold night, no less, I assumed the worst of a fellow human being.
那件事在余下來(lái)的一周一直困擾著我,我兜里有錢,即使他在說(shuō)謊,給他一、兩美元也不會(huì)影響到我。而且我總是想著,在一個(gè)寒冷的晚上,一個(gè)饑餓的人可能會(huì)遭遇的事。
Flying back to Anchorage, I couldn't help thinking of him. I tried to rationalize my failure to help by assuming government agencies, churches and charities were there to feed him. Besides, you're not supposed to give money to panhandlers.
回到安克雷奇,我禁不住想到他。我試著給自己沒幫助他找借口,比如給乞丐提供食物是政府機(jī)構(gòu),教堂還有慈善組織的事。而且,你不應(yīng)該給乞丐錢。
Somewhere over Seattle, I started to write my weekly garden column for The Anchorage Daily News. Out of the blue, I came up with an idea. Bean's Cafe, the soup kitchen in Anchorage, feeds hundreds of hungry Alaskans every day. Why not try to get all my readers to plant one row in their gardens dedicated to Bean's? Dedicate a row and take it down to Bean's. Clean and simple.
在西雅圖,我開始為《安克雷奇每日新聞報(bào)》每周園藝欄目寫稿。突然間,我想到一個(gè)點(diǎn)子:Bean's Café,安克雷奇的施舍處,每天都為成百饑餓的阿拉斯加州人提供食物。為什么不讓我的讀者們?cè)趫@子里種一壟豆子,然后把它捐給Bean's Café。這樣做簡(jiǎn)單可行。
We didn't keep records back then, but the idea began to take off. Folks would fax me or call when they took something in. Those who only grew flowers donated them. Food for the spirit. And salve for my conscience.
我們那時(shí)并沒有做記錄,但是這個(gè)點(diǎn)子開始流傳開來(lái)。當(dāng)人們捐獻(xiàn)東西,他們會(huì)給我發(fā)傳真或打電話。種花的人捐獻(xiàn)花,那是精神食糧,那使我得到了慰藉了。
Next year, the Garden Writers Association of America held their annual convention in Anchorage and after learning of Anchorage's program, Plant a Row for Bean's became Plant a Row For The Hungry. The original idea was to have every member of the Garden Writers Association of America write or talk about planting a row for the hungry sometime during the month of April.
第二年,美國(guó)園藝作家協(xié)會(huì)在了安克雷奇舉辦年會(huì),在了解安克雷奇為窮人種植一壟豆子的計(jì)劃后,起初的想法是讓美國(guó)園藝作家協(xié)會(huì)每位成員,寫或談?wù)?ldquo;在四月為饑餓的人種一壟豆子”。
As more and more people started working with the Plant a Row concept, new variations cropped up, if you will pardon the pun. Many companies gave free seed to customers and displayed the logo, which also appeared in national gardening publications.
隨著越來(lái)越多的人參與這一計(jì)劃,各種新的變化隨之出現(xiàn)。許多公司將種子免費(fèi)發(fā)給顧客,并展示捐助行動(dòng)的標(biāo)志,那些標(biāo)志也會(huì)刊登在國(guó)家園藝出版物上。
Garden editor raised more than 30,000 pounds of fruits and vegetables her first year, and showed GWAA how the program could really work.
園藝刊物編輯第一年籌集了3千鎊的水果和蔬菜,并向GWAA展示這項(xiàng)計(jì)劃是如何真正發(fā)揮作用的。
Texas fruit farms donated food to their local food bank after being inspired by Plant a Row. Today the program continues to thrive and grow.
受這一項(xiàng)目啟發(fā),德克薩斯水果農(nóng)場(chǎng)想當(dāng)?shù)氐乃麕?kù)捐獻(xiàn)了食物。如今這項(xiàng)計(jì)劃還在擴(kuò)展。
I am stunned that millions of Americans are threatened by hunger. If every gardener in America - and we're seventy million strong - plants one row for the hungry, we can make quite a dent in the number of neighbors who don't have enough to eat. Maybe then I will stop feeling guilty about abandoning a hungry man I could have helped.
得知有數(shù)百萬(wàn)美國(guó)人受到饑餓威脅我感到很吃驚。如果每個(gè)種園子的人——我們有7百萬(wàn)這樣的人——為饑餓的人種一壟豆子,那些沒有足夠食物吃的人數(shù)量會(huì)大幅減少,也許那時(shí)我就不必為本可以幫助一個(gè)饑餓的人但卻沒去做而感到愧疚。