雙語短文 · 生命中必修的人生法則

Rules of Life　生命中必修的人生法則

◎ Lillian Bueno Mccue


What do I believe? What laws do I live by? There are so many answers—work, beauty, truth, love—and I hope I do live by them.
But in everyday things I live by the light of a supplementary set of laws. I’d better call them rules of thumb. Rules of thumb aren’t very grand, but they do make the wheels go round.
My father and mother sent me to good schools, but the finest thing they did for my education was to have seven children. I was the oldest, and my brothers and sisters were my best teachers.
I learned first to pull my own weight in the boat. Kids making a bob-sled have no use for the loafer who wants a free ride. Neither has the world. I learned to make the bed I slept in, and wash the glass I used, and mend what I broke, and mop up where I spilled. And if I was too lazy or too dainty or too busy, and left it for someone else, somebody else soon taught me different.
Then, the same way, I learned that anger is a waste. It hurts nobody but me. A fit of the sullens got short shrift in our house. It wasn’t pulling my weight in the boat. It was spoiling sport. And among seven children it got me nowhere. It might reduce four o’cat to three o’cat, but the game went on just the same, and where was I? Out of it. Better go in and join the group around the piano and forget my grievance. Better still, next time don’t fling down my bat in a tantrum; keep my temper, and stay in the game.
Here’s a rule thumb that’s important, and the older I get, the more important I think it is. When I can do something, and somebody wants me to do it, I have to do it. The great tragedy of life is not to be needed. As long as you are able and willing to do things for people, you will be needed. Of course you are able; and if so, you can’t say no. My mother is seventy-seven. In seventy-seven years she has never said no. Today she is so much in demand by thirteen grandchildren and countless neighbors that her presence is eagerly contended for. When I want to see her I have to pretend emergency.
Then there’s the rule of curiosity. Your body would die if you stopped feeling hunger and thirst, and your mind will die if you lose your curiosity. This I learned from my father. My father was a naturalist. He could see the beetle under the bark, and draw it forth unharmed for us to squint at through the magnifying glass. He sampled the taste of thirty-three different caterpillars. Fired by his example, once, my sister ate an ant. In case you are wondering, caterpillars taste like the green leaves they eat, and ants taste of lemon. I personally haven’t tasted any entomological specimens lately, but I am still rejoicing in the limitless curiosity, the draws me to books and people and places. I hope I never lose it. It would be like pulling down the blind.
Finally, there is the rule of happiness. Happiness is a habit. I was taught to cultivate it. A big stomachache, or a big heartache, can interrupt happiness, but neither can destroy it unless I permit. My mother simply wouldn’t have unhappy faces moping about the place. If it was stomachache, she does it. If it was heartache, she administered love and understanding and lots of interesting things to do, and soon the sun came out again. Even the heartbreaks that can’t really be mended, even those seem to yield to the habit of finding happiness in doing things, in love and in the memory of love. I hope I never lose that habit either. It would be like putting out the light.
So I learned to live, by the great laws, and these little rules of thumb. I wouldn’t take a million dollars for any one of them, or a million times that for the years at home that taught them to me.



我該相信什么？我遵循什么原則？答案是多樣的，比如工作、美好、真諦、愛意，我也真誠希望我確實(shí)是遵循了這些而活。
但生活中的瑣事，讓我有另外一個(gè)原則去遵從。我稱之為拇指規(guī)則（雖然它聽起來并不響亮，但卻很實(shí)用）。
我父母把我送到一所好的學(xué)校讀書，但是對(duì)我最好的教育卻是他們養(yǎng)育了7個(gè)孩子。我是年齡最大的，弟弟妹妹們是我最好的老師。
我首先學(xué)會(huì)了作為長(zhǎng)女的責(zé)任。對(duì)一個(gè)想搭順風(fēng)車的浪子來說，會(huì)做雪橇的孩子毫無用處。我學(xué)會(huì)整理被子，洗自己用過的杯子，修補(bǔ)自己弄壞的東西，擦拭我潑灑弄臟的地方。如果我太懶，太忙或太講究，而讓別人去做，馬上就會(huì)有人叫我別這么做。
所以同樣地，我發(fā)現(xiàn)憤怒簡(jiǎn)直于事無補(bǔ)。它只會(huì)傷到我自己。在我們家里，悶悶不樂是不會(huì)有人搭理你的。盡管那不是我的責(zé)任，但卻會(huì)讓人很掃興。更何況在7個(gè)孩子里，生悶氣對(duì)我沒好處。沒有我，“4只小貓”的游戲變成“3只小貓”，一樣可以玩得很好。而我在哪呢？我被排除在外。最好的辦法是，加入他們，圍在鋼琴邊，然后忘記我的委屈。但要記得，下次不要生氣地扔掉我的球拍。我控制自己，繼續(xù)游戲。
拇指原則中有一條很重要，我年歲越大，越發(fā)現(xiàn)它的重要性。當(dāng)某人需要我做某事，而我也有能力去完成時(shí)，我就不得不去做。生活的悲劇就是你不被需要。只要你可以并且愿意為別人做某事，你就會(huì)被需要。當(dāng)然是你力所能及的，否則你不能拒絕。我母親今年77歲，在她77年的生活中，從沒有拒絕幫助別人?，F(xiàn)在13個(gè)孫子孫女和無數(shù)的鄰居都熱切地需要她的幫助，所以連和她見面都很難。當(dāng)我想見她時(shí)，只能假裝是有急事。
還有好奇心的原則。如果你感覺不到饑餓和口渴，你的身體會(huì)死；如果你失去了好奇心，你的腦袋會(huì)死。這是我在父親那里學(xué)到的。他是個(gè)自然學(xué)家，可以觀察到樹皮下的甲蟲，然后毫發(fā)無傷地拿起它，讓我們用放大鏡研究。父親嘗了33種不同毛蟲標(biāo)本的味道，以這個(gè)為榜樣，有一次我的妹妹吃了螞蟻。為了消除你們的好奇心，毛蟲的味道就像它們吃的綠葉，螞蟻的味道比較偏向檸檬。我個(gè)人還沒有嘗試過任何昆蟲標(biāo)本的味道，但我還是擁有無止境的好奇，然后我會(huì)去翻書，和人們交流，去滿足我無限的好奇心。真希望我永遠(yuǎn)不要喪失好奇心，否則就會(huì)像牽引一個(gè)盲人一樣無趣。
最后就是幸福原則。幸福是一種習(xí)慣，我要學(xué)會(huì)培養(yǎng)這個(gè)習(xí)慣。胃疼心臟疼會(huì)影響我，但絕不會(huì)摧毀我的幸福，除非我自己樂意。我母親不會(huì)輕易擺出一副郁悶的面孔。如果胃疼，她會(huì)給他吃藥；如果是心疼，她會(huì)用愛和理解，還有其他有趣的方法來處理，而且不久他就會(huì)重新快樂起來。即使是那些再也無法修補(bǔ)的破碎的心，也會(huì)屈服在愛中，在愛的記憶中找尋快樂。我同樣不希望丟棄愛，否則就像自己關(guān)掉了整個(gè)世界的燈。
遵照這些原則，我學(xué)著去生活。其中的每一項(xiàng)我都不愿意交換，哪怕是百萬美元，也同樣換不走這些年家庭教給我的點(diǎn)點(diǎn)滴滴。