第1章

Please send this message to those people who mean something to you, to those who have touched your life in one way or another, to those who make you smile when you really need it, to those that make you see the brighter side of things when you are really down, to those who you want to let them know that you appreciate their friendship.

请把这些语言送给那些你所关心的人，那些在生活中以这样或那样的方式同自己打交道的人，那些需要时能给你带来微笑的人，那些在逆境中依然能使你看到光明的人，那些你想让他们知道你珍视与他们的友谊的人。

PREFACE

If No Encounter in This Life

If there is no encounter in this life,

You will have no idea about the feeling of solicitude,

And the taste of mutual concern.

When walking lonely in the unfamiliar city,

You won't realize there is certain quiet yearning,

From afar every day.

If there is no encounter in this life,

You will find the world is big,

Big enough to offer new world that we never know before;

You will also think the world is so small,

That every corner is stamped by familiar footprints,

Just like that little repeating secret thought.

If there is no encounter in this life,

I don? t know where I should stare at,

And the softness in your eyes will also not be oriented toward my direction.

I will watch sunrise and sunset, listen to the singing of the insects and birds,

With the accompany of tenuous cloud and gentle breeze,

Standing all by myself, body and shadow comforting each other.

If there is no encounter in this life,

The melody of the story won? t be so euphonious and undulatory,

Some backward glances keep drifting away from the face,

Some happy appearances can only blossom out in unfamiliarity,

Some thoughtful ideas can? t be fully developed,

Some words will be sealed in winter.

If there is no encounter in this life,

Those sensations known as love are still wandering,

Those tender feelings once gently called are also roaming around,

Those glances in dreams will be wrapped by trivial days,

Those little bits of mutual concern won? t converge into a sea.

If there is no encounter in this life,

The ordinary years won? t be woven by bright colors which form a gorgeous picture,

The plain lives will gradually decreased like rests in a movement.

假如人生不曾相遇，

你不会知道挂念的感觉，

不会知道世界上还有一种滋味叫做彼此关心。

行走在孤独而陌生的城市里，

不会知道在每一个日子里，

还会有一份来自远方的安静的牵挂。

假如人生不曾相遇，

你会发现世界很大，

大到还有许多我们不曾知晓的地方；

也会发现世界很小，

小到每一个经过的角落都刻下了熟悉的足迹，

熟悉如那段翻来覆去不断重播的秘密心事。

假如人生不曾相遇，

我不会知道该往何处凝视，

你也不会朝着我的方向凝眸。

每天只在风轻云淡里，

看日出日落，听虫鸣鸟叫，

冷暖自知，与自己的影子彼此安慰。

假如人生不曾相遇，

故事的旋律不会如此悠扬跌宕，

一些回眸始终游荡在脸庞之外，

一些欢颜也只绽放在陌生之中，

一些心意无法演绎成饱满篇章，

一些话语也将在冬季凝结成冰。

假如人生不曾相遇，

那些被人称为爱的感觉还在徘徊流浪，

那些轻声呼唤过的柔情也在四处漂泊，

那些梦里的眼神将被琐碎的日子裹藏，

那些点滴流过的相思也不会汇聚成海。

假如人生不曾相遇，

平凡的岁月不会被编织成斑斓的明亮色彩，

简单的生命会逐渐单调成乐章里的休止符。

When Love Beckons You

Happiness is not about being immortal nor having food or rights in one's hand. It's about having each tiny wish come true, or having something to eat when you are hungry, or having someone's love when you need love.

In Life We Are Happiest When...

By Stuart

A man and his girlfriend were married. It was a large celebration.

All of their friends and family came to see the lovely ceremony and to partake of the festivities and celebrations. All had a wonderful time.

The bride was gorgeous in her white wedding gown, and the groom was very dashing in his black tuxedo. Everyone could tell that the love they had for each other was true.

A few months later, the wife came to the husband with a proposal, I read in a magazine, a while ago, about how we can strengthen our marriage. she offered. Each of us will write a list of the things that we find a bit annoying with the other person. Then, we can talk about how we can fix them together and make our lives happier together.

The husband agreed. So each of them went to a separate room in the house and thought of the things that annoyed them about the other. They thought about this question for the rest of the day and wrote down what they came up with.

The next morning, at the breakfast table, they decided that they would go over their lists.

I'll start. offered the wife. She took out her list. It had many items on it, enough to fill 3 pages. In fact, as she started reading the list of the little annoyances, she noticed that tears were starting to appear in her husband's eyes.

What's wrong 'she asked. Nothing, the husband replied, keep reading your list.

The wife continued to read until she had read all three pages to her husband. She neatly placed her list on the table and folded her hands over the top of it.

Now, you read your list and then we'll talk about the things on both of our lists. she said happily.

Quietly the husband stated, I don't have anything on my list. I think that you are perfect the way that you are. I don't want you to change anything for me. You are lovely and wonderful and I wouldn't want to try and change anything about you.

The wife, touched by his honesty and the depth of his love for her and his acceptance of her, turned her head and wept.

In life, there are enough times when we are disappointed, depressed and annoyed. We don't really have to go looking for them. We have a wonderful world that is full of beauty, light and promise. Why waste time in this world looking for the bad, disappointing or annoying when we can look around us, and see the wondrous things before us?

Annoying is made from yourself, so abandon it.

Hungry for Your Love

By Barbara DeAngelis, Ph. D.

It is cold, so bitter cold, on this dark, winter day in 1942. But it is not different from any other day in this Nazi concentration camp. I stand shiveringly in my thin rags, still in disbelief that this nightmare is happening. I am just a young boy. I should be playing with friends; I should be going to school; I should be looking forward to a future, to growing up and marrying, and having a family of my own. But those dreams are for the living, and I am no longer one of them. Instead, I am almost dead, surviving from day to day, from hour to hour, ever since I was taken from my home and brought here with tens of thousands of other Jews. Will I still be alive tomorrow? Will I be taken to the gas chamber tonight?

Back and forth I walk next to the barbed wire fence, trying to keep my emaciated body warm. I am hungry, but I have been hungry for longer than I want to remember. I am always hungry. Edible food seems like a dream. Each day as more of us disappear, the happy past seems like a mere dream, and I sink deeper and deeper into despair. Suddenly, I notice a young girl walking past on the other side of the barbed wire. She stops and looks at me with sad eyes, eyes that seem to say that she understands. That she, too, cannot fathom why I am here. I want to look away, oddly ashamed for this stranger to see me like this, but I cannot tear my eyes from hers.

Then she reaches into her pocket, and pulls out a red apple. A beautiful, shiny red apple. Oh, how long it has been since I have seen one! She looks cautiously to the left and to the right, and then with a smile of triumph, quickly throws the apple over the fence. I run to pick it up, holding it in my trembling, frozen fingers. In my world of death, this apple is an expression of life, of love. I glance up in time to see the girl disappearing into the distance.

The next day, I cannot help myself 'I am drawn at the same time to that spot near the fence. Am I crazy for hoping she will come again? Of course. But in here, I cling to any tiny scrap of hope. She has given me hope and I must hold tightly to it.

And again, she comes. And again, she brings me an apple, flinging it over the fence with that same sweet smile.

This time I catch it, and hold it up for her to see. Her eyes twinkle. Does she pity me? Perhaps. I do not care, though. I am just so happy to gaze at her. And for the first time in so long, I feel my heart move with emotion.

For seven months, we meet like this. Sometimes we exchange a few words. Sometimes, just an apple. But she is feeding more than my belly, this angel from heaven. She is feeding my soul. And somehow, I know I am feeding hers as well.

One day, I hear frightening news: we are being shipped to another camp. This could mean the end for me. And it definitely means the end for me and my friend.

The next day when I greet her, my heart is breaking, and I can barely speak as I say what must be said, Do not bring me an apple tomorrow, I tell her. I am being sent to another camp. We will never see each other again. Turning before I lose all control, I run away from the fence. I cannot bear to look back. If I did, I know she would see me standing there, with tears streaming down my face.

Months pass and the nightmare continues. But the memory of this girl sustains me through the terror, the pain, the hopelessness. Over and over in my mind, I see her face, her kind eyes, I hear her gentle words, and I taste those apples.

And then one day, just like that, the nightmare is over. The war has ended. Those of us who are still alive are freed. I have lost everything that was precious to me, including my family. But I still have the memory of this girl, a memory I carry in my heart and gives me the will to go on as I move to America to start a new life.

Years pass. It is 1957. I am living in New York City. A friend convinces me to go on a blind date with a lady friend of his. Reluctantly, I agree. But she is nice, this woman named Roma. And like me, she is an immigrant, so we have at least that in common.

Where were you during the war 'Roma asks me gently, in that delicate way immigrants ask one another questions about those years.

I was in a concentration camp in Germany. I reply.

Roma gets a far away look in her eyes, as if she is remembering something painful yet sweet.

What is it 'I ask.

I am just thinking about something from my past, Herman, Roma explains in a voice suddenly very soft. You see, when I was a young girl, I lived near a concentration camp. There was a boy there, a prisoner, and for a long while, I used to visit him every day. I remember I used to bring him apples. I would throw the apple over the fence, and he would be so happy.