In the months that followed； I tried out a variety of bedtime songs so that I could add the best ones to my repertoire。 I evaluated each tune according to Tessa’s personal rating system：She fussed and frowned when she didn’t like a song； and manded； “Again； Mama； ” when she did like one。
Not every song I auditioned made our lullaby hit parade。 I like Gershwin tunes； but Tessa is no jazz baby； so“Embraceable You” didn’t make the final cut。 On the other hand； I found that cowboy songs make surprisingly effective lullabies。 The lyrics are a bit melancholy； but the rolling rhythms of“Red River Valley； ”“I Ride an Old Paint； ”and“Down in the Valley” are soothing； like riding a gentle old pony into the sunset。 Likewise； the sentimental songs that were popular early in the last century—“Good Night； Ladies； ”“Let Me Call You Sweetheart； ” and “You Are My Sunshine”—are still lovely； even when they’re sung by a solo alto instead of a barbershop quartet。 And Tessa loved the folk songs my mother sang to me all those years ago； songs like“The Big Rock Candy Mountain。 ”“I’ve Been Working on the Railroad； ”and Tessa’s favorite。 “The Riddle Song； ”which she immediately dubbed“The Cherry Song”：
I gave my love a cherry that had no stone
I gave my love a chicken that had no bone
I gave my love a story that had no end
I gave my love a baby with no crying’。
After eleven or twelve songs； Tessa would relax her hold on the day； her bright eyes would close； and I’d hear her breathing grow deep and regular。 Carefully； I would lay her in her bed and creep from the room。 We had triumphed over wakefulness for one more day。
This was our routine for many nights； until finally Tessa learned that when I left her in her bed； I wasn’t leaving for long and that a cry of “Mama！”would always bring me back。
Tessa is six now； too big to hold across my lap； so I sing to her in bed。 It no longer takes a dozen songs to get her to sleep；usually one is enough。
“What do you want me to sing tonight？”I ask； stroking her hair。
“The Cherry Song； ”she always answers； with a sleepy smile。 And I sing her that sweet song of unending love。
A cherry when it’s bloomin’； it has no stone
A chicken when it’s pippin’； it has no bone
The story of “I love you； ” it has no end
A baby when it’s sleepin’； there’s no cryin’。
After she falls asleep； I linger a while。 I sit on the edge of her bed thinking how beautiful she is； with the light from the hall illuminating the curve of her cheek and shining like a moonbeam on her sleek black hair。 I wish the moment would never end； but no childhood lasts forever。 And so I try to make memories that will。
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谁是最爱你的人（1）
佚名
“谁是这个世界上最爱你的人？”我听见父亲用开玩笑的口吻问我。“妈妈。”尽管我知道是父亲，但我也用同样的口气回敬了他。在我的整个童年中，总是听到他日复一日地问我这个问题。父亲爱我至深，他不仅用其他成人的“典型”方式爱我，还用很多其他方式来表达他对我的爱。
父亲是个工作狂，有时过于卖力，但他总会在我需要的时候陪伴在我的身边。例如，如果某个周末我待在一个朋友家里（他那天要工作），就会给父亲打电话，问他能不能到朋友家来接我。“好的。”他总会这样说。
表达一个人的爱意最典型的方式就是直接说出来，或者买东西送给所爱之人，可是父亲不同。在我年幼时，经常嚷着叫父亲起床：“爸爸，我饿了，您能做点东西给我吃吗？”他会高兴地说：“当然，没问题。”接下来就会问：“一块牛排，几个鸡蛋好吗？”“哦，那样是不是太麻烦了？”我不顾饥肠辘辘的肚子说道。“没关系。”他会这样回答。晚上睡觉前，他可能会走进我的房间说：“嘿，睡觉前喝杯茶如何，本金引擎？”我向来讨厌他不叫我的真名本杰明而这样叫我，但现在回想起来，他并不是故意惹我生气，只是想用自己的方式表达他的爱。
在父亲唯一的休息日：星期六或星期日，他可能会走到我的面前说：“来玩板球好吗？”“太好了，爸爸。”我高兴地回答。有些日子，他太累不能玩了，但还是说：“当然可以，我们玩吧。”这时，母亲就会过来，把我叫到一旁解释说，父亲太累了，不能玩。他从不拒绝我，他总有时间陪我。
时光飞逝，我成长为少年，少年的心总是渴望独立，有关食物的游戏对我来说已经成了小孩子的游戏，变成了愚蠢的想法。父亲还是会到我的房间来说：“睡觉前来点高粱好吗？”我可能会气愤地回答：“不用了，谢谢。”他行为背后的关爱完全被我抛至脑后。
回想起来，我意识到自己对父亲的态度有些强硬，他不想使我感到心烦意乱，只是用自己的方式表达对我的爱。最近，我因情绪沮丧住进了医院。每天7点左右，他结束辛劳的工作后来看我，陪我三个多小时，10点左右才回家吃晚饭。“爸爸，你的陪伴让我很开心，可我知道您需要休息。” 我这样鼓励他。他愉悦地说：“没关系。”在不上班的日子里，他会过来陪我一整天。他会鼓励我说：“给爸爸一个微笑。”我说：“爸爸，这个时候，我笑不出来。”“来吧，我只要一个，再不会问你要了。”他戏说道。这样，我就不由自主地笑了。
我写这个是为了感谢世上所有的父亲，特别是感谢我的父亲——那个在我太累或太小而无法做饭时愿意在夜深时为我做饭的人；那个在我最需要的时候坐在我床边的人；那个从不拒绝儿子的人；那个叫我“本金引擎”的人。
Who Loves You the Best
Anonymous
“Who loves you the best in the world？” I would hear my dad say in a playful tone。“Mom does。” I would say jokingly knowing it was my dad who did。 That’s what I would hear my whole childhood day after day from the man who cared so much for me and showed love in so many other ways than the“typical” ways of other adults。
My dad is a man who works hard，sometimes too hard。 He’s always there for me when I need him。 For example if I’m at a friend’s house on a Sunday （which is a day that he works on） I would call up his mobile phone and ask him if he could pick me up from a friend’s house。 “Of course。 ” he would say。
The typical way of showing one’s love is expressing it by saying it，and by buying things for the person receiving the love。 My dad’s different。 In my earlier years I would wake my dad up and say，“dad； I’m hungry，could you make me something to eat？” “Sure； what a question。 ” he would say happily。 “How about a piece of steak and some eggs？” would be his next line。 “Well，I’m notsure about that dad； it would be too much trouble。 ” I would say without listening to my tummy rumbling。“Don’t worry about it。 ”would be his reply。 At night before going to sleep he would e into my room and say； “How about a cup of tea before you go to bed； hey Benjin the Engine？” I used to hate the way he would call me that instead of my real name Benjamin； but now thinking back he wasn’t just trying to make me irritated；he was just expressing his love the way he expresses it。 电子书 分享网站
谁是最爱你的人（2）
On Saturday or Sunday； my Dad’s only rest days； he would e up to me and say； “How about a game of cricket？”“Yes； dad； that will be great。 ” I would reply happily。 On the days that he was too tired to play he would say； “Yeah sure； I’ll play。 ”My Momwould e and call me to the side and explain that my dad was just too tired to play； but he could not say no to me。 He always had and has time for me。
As time flew by； I started to bee a teenager； and with ateenager e independence and what seemed to me as a childish game over food became a stupid idea。 He would e into my room and say； “How about a milo before you go to bed？” he would say。 “Thanks but no thanks。” I would reply angrily； not thinking about the thought behind his actions。
Thinking back I realized I was a bit tough with him。 He didn’t want to make me upset； he was just expressing his love the way he expresses it。 When I was sick in hospital recently for depression； he would e after a hard day’s work at about 7 o’clock and stay up to three hours with me； leaving at about 10 o’clock to go home for dinner。“Please dad； I love it when you stay with me but I know you need your sleep；” I would say encouragingly。 “Don’t worry about it。 ” he would say happily。 On the days he didn’t work； he would e and spend the whole day with me。 “Give dad a smile。 ” he would say encouragingly。 “Dad； at the moment I can’t smile。 ” I would say。 “Please just one smile and then I won’t ask again。 ” He would say playfully。 After that I couldn’t help smiling。
I wrote this to thank the entire fathers out there； but I especially wrote this to thank my dad。 The one who would make me food late at night when I was too tired to do so or unable to do。 The one who would sit by my bed in my time of greatest need。 The one who he couldn’t say no to his son。 The one who would call me “Benjin the Engine。 ”
我之所以教书（1）
惠特尼·L。 葛拉德
我很了解我的学生们。在我们乡村中学里，每天都会有一群七年级的学生，背着双肩背包，沿着走廊的瓷砖地板一边嚷嚷，一边慢悠悠地从一间教室走到另一间教室。我站在教室门口看着他们，就像一个将军在阅兵似的。我为能叫出他们每一个人的名字而感到高兴。
我知道他们的秘密以及他们的故事。多拉是一个懒散而害羞的女孩，我知道这是因为她在家的时候不愿太惹人注意，以免因闯祸而遭到继父的殴打。杰伊可以像一个十年级的学生那样投掷棒球，当他顶着一头金黄色的头发大摇大摆地走过时，所有女孩都欣喜若狂，但是我知道他对棒球根本没兴趣，只是不敢违抗父命而已，与女孩子出去约会也会让他感到害怕。孩子们都认为基思只是班上的小丑，但是我知道他梦想能成为一个宇航员，所以我把他推荐给了一个太空夏令营。我了解我的学生们，因为我是他们的写作老师。他们信任我，并告诉了我他们的故事，所以我有了与他们每一个人分享秘密的特权。
我教给我的学生们文字