世界上最美丽的英文——情满人间 All That Is beautifuhLove 第一篇: A Sailor' s christmas ifit William J. Lederer Last year at Christmas time my wife, our three boys and I were in France on our way from Paris to Nice. For five wretched days everything had gone wrong. Our hotels were "tourist traps our rented car broke down; we were all restless and irritable in the crowded car. On Christmas Eve, when we checked into a dingy hotel in Nice, there was no Christmas spirit in our hearts It was raining and cold when we went out to eat. We found a drab little joint shoddily decorated for the holidays. It smelled greasy. Only five tables in the restaurant were occupied. There were two German couples, two French families and an American sailor, by himself. In the corner, a piano player listlessly played Christmas music. I was too stubborn and too tired and miserable to leave. I looked around the noticed that the other customers were eating in stony silence. The only person who seemed happy was the American sailor While eating he was writing a letter, and a half-smile covered his face My wife ordered our meal in French. The waiter brought us the wrong thing, so I scolded my wife for being stupid. She began to cry. The boys defended her, and I felt even worse. Then at the table with the French family, on our left, the father slapped one of the children for some minor infraction, and the boy began to cry On our right, the fat, blond German woman began berating her husband All of us were interrupted by an unpleasant blast of cold air. Through the front door came an old French flower woman. She wore a dripping tattered overcoat and shuffled in on wet, rundown shoes. Carrying her basket of flowers, she went from one table to the other Flowers, monsieur? Only one franc. No one bought any Wearily she sat down at a table between the sailor and us. To the waiter she said, "A bowl of soup I haven 't sold a flower afternoon. To the piano player she said hoarsely, "Can you imagine, Joseph, soup Christmas Eve?He pointed to his empty tipping plate The young sailor finished his meal and got up to leave. Putting on his coat, he walked over to the flower womans table. Happy Christmas! he said, smiling, and picking out two corsages, asked, How much are they?
世界上最美丽的英文——情满人间 All That Is Beautiful——Love 第一篇：A Sailor's Christmas Gift William J. Lederer Last year at Christmas time my wife, our three boys and I were in France on our way from Paris to Nice. For five wretched days everything had gone wrong. Our hotels were "tourist traps," our rented car broke down; we were all restless and irritable in the crowded car. On Christmas Eve, when we checked into a dingy hotel in Nice, there was no Christmas spirit in our hearts. It was raining and cold when we went out to eat. We found a drab little joint shoddily decorated for the holidays. It smelled greasy. Only five tables in the restaurant were occupied. There were two German couples, two French families and an American sailor, by himself. In the corner, a piano player listlessly played Christmas music. I was too stubborn and too tired and miserable to leave. I looked around the noticed that the other customers were eating in stony silence. The only person who seemed happy was the American sailor. While eating he was writing a letter, and a half-smile covered his face. My wife ordered our meal in French. The waiter brought us the wrong thing, so I scolded my wife for being stupid. She began to cry. The boys defended her, and I felt even worse. Then at the table with the French family, on our left, the father slapped one of the children for some minor infraction, and the boy began to cry. On our right, the fat, blond German woman began berating her husband. All of us were interrupted by an unpleasant blast of cold air. Through the front door came an old French flower woman. She wore a dripping, tattered overcoat and shuffled in on wet, rundown shoes. Carrying her basket of flowers, she went from one table to the other. "Flowers, monsieur? Only one franc." No one bought any. Wearily she sat down at a table between the sailor and us. To the waiter she said, "A bowl of soup. I haven't sold a flower all afternoon." To the piano player she said hoarsely, "Can you imagine, Joseph, soup on Christmas Eve?" He pointed to his empty tipping plate. The young sailor finished his meal and got up to leave. Putting on his coat, he walked over to the flower woman's table. "Happy Christmas!" he said, smiling, and picking out two corsages, asked, "How much are they?
"Two francs, monsieur. Pressing one of the small corsages flat, he put it into the letter he had written then handed the woman a 20-franc note I dont have change, monsieur, she said, " I'll get some from the waiter. No, ma'am, he said, leaning over and kissing the ancient cheek. This is my Christmas present to you. Straightening up, he came to our table holding the other corsage in front of him. "Sir, he said to me, "may I have permission to present these flowers to your beautiful wife? " In one quick motion, he gave my wife the corsage, wished us a Merry Christmas, and departed Everyone had stopped eating. Everyone was watching the sailor. Everyone was silent A few seconds later, Christmas exploded throughout the restaurant like a bomb The old flower woman jumped up, waving the 20-franc note Hobbling to the middle of the floor, she did a merry jig and shouted to the piano player, Joseph, my Christmas present, and you shall have half so you can have a feast too "The piano player began to beat out Good King Wenceslaus, hitting the keys with magic hands, nodding his head in rhythm My wife waved her corsage in time with the rhythm. She was radiant and appeared 20 years younger. The tears had left her eyes and the corners of her mouth turned up in laughter. She began to sing, and our three sons joined her, bellowing the song with uninhibited enthusiasm Gut, gut, " shouted the Germans. They jumped on their chairs and began singing in German The waiter embraced the flower woman. Waving their arms, they sang in French. The Frenchman who had slapped the boy beat rhythm with a fork against a bottle. The lad climbed on his lap, singing in a youthful soprano The Germans ordered wine for everyone. They delivered it themselves, hugging the other customers, bawling Christmas greetings. One of the French families ordered champagne and made the rounds, kissing each one of us on each cheek. The owner of the restaurant started singing"The First Noel, and we all joined in, half of us crying People crowded in from the street until many customers were standing. The walls shook as hands and feet kept time to the yuletide carols. A few hours earlier, a few people had been spending a miserable evening in a shoddy restaurant. It ended up being the happiest, the very best Christmas Eve they had ever spent This, Admiral McDonald, is what I am writing you about. As the top man in the Navy, you should know about the very special gift that the U.S. Navy gave to my family -to me and to the other people in that restaurant. Because your young sailor had the Christmas spirit in his soul, he released the love and joy that had been smothered within us by anger and disappointment. He gave us Christmas
"Two francs, monsieur." Pressing one of the small corsages flat, he put it into the letter he had written, then handed the woman a 20-franc note. "I don't have change, monsieur," she said, "I'll get some from the waiter." "No, ma'am," he said, leaning over and kissing the ancient cheek. "This is my Christmas present to you." Straightening up, he came to our table holding the other corsage in front of him. "Sir," he said to me, "may I have permission to present these flowers to your beautiful wife?" In one quick motion, he gave my wife the corsage, wished us a Merry Christmas, and departed. Everyone had stopped eating. Everyone was watching the sailor. Everyone was silent. A few seconds later, Christmas exploded throughout the restaurant like a bomb. The old flower woman jumped up, waving the 20-franc note. Hobbling to the middle of the floor, she did a merry jig and shouted to the piano player, "Joseph, my Christmas present, and you shall have half so you can have a feast too." The piano player began to beat out "Good King Wenceslaus," hitting the keys with magic hands, nodding his head in rhythm. My wife waved her corsage in time with the rhythm. She was radiant and appeared 20 years younger. The tears had left her eyes and the corners of her mouth turned up in laughter. She began to sing, and our three sons joined her, bellowing the song with uninhibited enthusiasm. "Gut, gut," shouted the Germans. They jumped on their chairs and began singing in German. The waiter embraced the flower woman. Waving their arms, they sang in French. The Frenchman who had slapped the boy beat rhythm with a fork against a bottle. The lad climbed on his lap, singing in a youthful soprano. The Germans ordered wine for everyone. They delivered it themselves, hugging the other customers, bawling Christmas greetings. One of the French families ordered champagne and made the rounds, kissing each one of us on each cheek. The owner of the restaurant started singing "The First Noel," and we all joined in, half of us crying. People crowded in from the street until many customers were standing. The walls shook as hands and feet kept time to the yuletide carols. A few hours earlier, a few people had been spending a miserable evening in a shoddy restaurant. It ended up being the happiest, the very best Christmas Eve they had ever spent. This, Admiral McDonald, is what I am writing you about. As the top man in the Navy, you should know about the very special gift that the U.S. Navy gave to my family - to me and to the other people in that restaurant. Because your young sailor had the Christmas spirit in his soul, he released the love and joy that had been smothered within us by anger and disappointment. He gave us Christmas
第二篇: It Doesn' t Have To Be Right N。w Hendy Irawan Maybe you have realized Everything behind what I saic Maybe you have know That now I am just alone It's maybe not how far And maybe not how old Or how long we have been Because it's just about us It doesn't have to be right now n tell m With all the romantic words Ive been dreaming every moment It doesnt have to be right now Or it could never be And all up to you No. it's not about it Not about him or her Because it's just about us And I'm in love whit you It doesn't have to be right now Cause I can wait till a time When you finally want me Cause I'm in love with you
第二篇：It Doesn't Have To Be Right Now Hendy Irawan Maybe you have realized Everything behind what I said Maybe you have know That now I am just alone It's maybe not how far And maybe not how old Or how long we have been Because it's just about us It doesn't have to be right now When you can tell me With all the romantic words I've been dreaming every moment It doesn't have to be right now Cause it could be someday Or it could never be And all up to you No, it's not about it Not about him or her Because it's just about us And I'm in love whit you It doesn't have to be right now Cause I can wait till a time When you finally want me Cause I'm in love with you
第三篇: The Red Mahogany Piano Many years ago, when I was a young man in my twenties, I worked as a salesman for a St Louis piano company We sold our pianos all over the state by advertising in small town newspapers and then, when we had received sufficient replies, we would load our little trucks, drive into and sell the pianos to those who had replied Every time we advertised in the cotton country of Southeast Missouri, we would receive a eply on a postcard, which said, in effect, Please bring me a new piano for my little granddaughter. It must be red mahogany. I can pay $10 a month with my egg money. "The old lady scrawled2 on and on and on that postcard until she filled it up then turned it over and even wrote on the front around and around the edges until there was barely room for the address Of course, we could not sell a new piano for $10 a month. No finance company would carry a contract with payments that small, so we ignored her postcards One day, however, I happened to be in that area calling on other replies, and out of curiosity decided to look the old lady up. I found pretty much what I expected: The old lady lived in a one-room sharecroppers3 cabin in the middle of a cotton field The cabin had a dirt floor and there were chickens in the house. Obviously, the old lady could not have qualified to purchase anything on credit no car, no phone, no real job othing but a roof over her head and not a very good one at that. I could see daylight through it in several places. Her little granddaughter was about 10, barefoot and wearing a feed sack dress I explained to the old lady that we could not sell a new piano for $10 a month and that she should stop writing to us every time she saw our ad I drove away heartsick, but my advice had no effect she still sent us the same postcard every six weeks. Always wanting a new piano, red mahogany, please, and swearing she would never miss a $10 payment. It was A couple of years later, I owned my own piano company, and when I advertised in that area the postcards started coming to me For months, I ignored them what else could I do? But then, one day when I was in the area something came over me. I had a red mahogany ly little truck. Despite knowing that I was about to make a terrible business decision, I delivered the piano to her and told her I would carry the contract myself at $10 a month with no interest, and that would mean 52 payments. I took the new piano in the house and placed it where I thought the roof would be least likely to rain on it. I admonished her
第三篇：The Red Mahogany Piano Many years ago, when I was a young man in my twenties, I worked as a salesman for a St. Louis piano company. We sold our pianos all over the state by advertising in small town newspapers and then, when we had received sufficient replies, we would load our little trucks, drive into the area and sell the pianos to those who had replied. Every time we advertised in the cotton country of Southeast Missouri, we would receive a reply on a postcard, which said, in effect, “ Please bring me a new piano for my little granddaughter. It must be red mahogany. I can pay $10 a month with my egg money.” The old lady scrawled2 on and on and on that postcard until she filled it up then turned it over and even wrote on the front around and around the edges until there was barely room for the address. Of course, we could not sell a new piano for $10 a month. No finance company would carry a contract with payments that small, so we ignored her postcards. One day, however, I happened to be in that area calling on other replies, and out of curiosity I decided to look the old lady up. I found pretty much what I expected: The old lady lived in a one-room sharecroppers3 cabin in the middle of a cotton field. The cabin had a dirt floor and there were chickens in the house. Obviously, the old lady could not have qualified to purchase anything on credit no car, no phone, no real job, nothing but a roof over her head and not a very good one at that. I could see daylight through it in several places. Her little granddaughter was about 10, barefoot and wearing a feed sack dress. I explained to the old lady that we could not sell a new piano for $10 a month and that she should stop writing to us every time she saw our ad. I drove away heartsick, but my advice had no effect she still sent us the same postcard every six weeks. Always wanting a new piano, red mahogany, please, and swearing she would never miss a $10 payment. It was sad. A couple of years later, I owned my own piano company, and when I advertised in that area, the postcards started coming to me. For months, I ignored them what else could I do? But then, one day when I was in the area something came over me. I had a red mahogany piano on my little truck. Despite knowing that I was about to make a terrible business decision, I delivered the piano to her and told her I would carry the contract myself at $10 a month with no interest, and that would mean 52 payments. I took the new piano in the house and placed it where I thought the roof would be least likely to rain on it. I admonished4 her
and the little girl to try to keep the chickens off it, and I left sure I had just thrown away a new ano But the payments came in, all 52 of them as agreed sometimes with coins taped to a 3x5 inch card in the envelope. It was incredible So, I put the incident out of my mind for 20 years Then one day I was in Memphis on other business, and after dinner at the Holiday Inn on the Levee, I went into the lounge. As I was sitting at the bar having an after dinner drink, I heard the most beautiful piano music behind me. I looked around, and there was a lovely young woman playing a very nice grand piano asked for requests, and when she took a break she sat down at my tabl Arent you the man who sold my grandma a piano a long time ago? It didn't ring a bell6, so I asked her to explain She started to tell me, and I suddenly remembered. My Lord, it was her! It was the little barefoot girl in the feed sack dress She told me her name was Elise and since her grandmother couldnt afford to pay for lessons, she had learned to play by listening to the radio. She said she had started to play in church where she and her grandmother had to walk over two miles, and that she had then played in school, had won many awards and a music scholarship. She had married an attorney in Memphis and he had bought her a grand piano Something else entered my mind. "Look, Elise, I asked, May I ask you what kind of wood is your first piano made of, the one your grandmother bought you? It's red mahogany, she said, Why? couldnt speak. Did she understand the significance of the red mahogany? The unbelievable audacity 7 of her grandmother insisting on a red mahogany piano when no one in his right mind would have sold her a piano of any kind? I think not And then did the old lady understand the marvelous accomplishment of that beautiful, terribly underprivileged8 child in the feed sack dress? No, I'm sure she didnt understand that either But I did, and my throat tightened
and the little girl to try to keep the chickens off it, and I left sure I had just thrown away a new piano. But the payments came in, all 52 of them as agreed sometimes with coins taped to a 3x5 inch card in the envelope. It was incredible! So, I put the incident out of my mind for 20 years. Then one day I was in Memphis on other business, and after dinner at the Holiday Inn on the Levee, I went into the lounge. As I was sitting at the bar having an after dinner drink, I heard the most beautiful piano music behind me. I looked around, and there was a lovely young woman playing a very nice grand piano. Being a pianist of some ability myself, I was stunned by her virtuosity5, and I picked up my drink and moved to a table beside her where I could listen and watch. She smiled at me, asked for requests, and when she took a break she sat down at my table. “Aren't you the man who sold my grandma a piano a long time ago?” It didn't ring a bell6, so I asked her to explain. She started to tell me, and I suddenly remembered. My Lord, it was her! It was the little barefoot girl in the feed sack dress! She told me her name was Elise and since her grandmother couldn't afford to pay for lessons, she had learned to play by listening to the radio. She said she had started to play in church where she and her grandmother had to walk over two miles, and that she had then played in school, had won many awards and a music scholarship. She had married an attorney in Memphis and he had bought her a grand piano. Something else entered my mind. “Look, Elise,” I asked, “ May I ask you what kind of wood is your first piano made of, the one your grandmother bought you?” “It's red mahogany,” she said, “Why?” I couldn't speak. Did she understand the significance of the red mahogany? The unbelievable audacity7 of her grandmother insisting on a red mahogany piano when no one in his right mind would have sold her a piano of any kind? I think not. And then did the old lady understand the marvelous accomplishment of that beautiful, terribly underprivileged8 child in the feed sack dress? No, I'm sure she didn't understand that either. But I did, and my throat tightened