What Did You Love？ 你爱的是什么？
John was waiting for the girl whose heart he knew， but whose face he has not known， the girl with the rose. Thirteen months ago， in a Florida library he took a book off the shelf and found himself intrigued with the notes in the margin. The soft handwriting re flected a thoughtful soul and insightful mind.
In front of the book， he discovered the previous owner's name， Miss Hollis Maynell. With time and effort he located her address. He wrote her a letter introducing himself and inviting her to correspond.
During the next year and one month the two grew to know each other through the mail. A romance was budding. John requested a photograph， but she refused. She felt that if he really cared， it wouldn't matter what she looked like. Later they scheduled their first meeting-7：00 p. m. at Grand Central Station in New York.
"You'll recognize me，" she wrote， "by the red rose I'll be wearing on my lapel." So at 7：00 he was in the station looking for the girl with the red rose.
A young woman in a green suit was coming toward him， her figure long and slim and her eyes were blue as flowers. Almost uncontrollably he made one step closer to her， and just at this moment he saw Hollis Maynell-a woman well past 40.The girl was walking quickly away. He felt as though he split in two， so keen was his desire to follow her， and yet so deep was his longing for the woman whose spirit had truly companioned him and upheld his own.
He did not hesitate. He squared his shoulders and said， "I'm John， and you must be Miss Maynell. I am so glad you could meet me； may I take you to dinner？"
The woman smiled. "I don't know what this is about， son，" she answered， "but the young lady in the green suit begged me to wear this rose on my coat. And she said if you were to ask me out to dinner， I should tell you that she is waiting for you in the restaurant across the street. She said it was some kind of test！"
intrigue v. 引起好奇心
correspond v. 通信
lapel n. （西服上衣的）翻领
keen adj. 强烈的
约翰正在等一个相知却未谋面的女孩，一个戴着一朵玫瑰的女孩。13个月前，他从佛罗里达一家图书馆的书架上拿下一本书，被页边上的批注吸引了。从柔和的字迹中可以看出，这出自一个有思想、有见解的人。
他在书前找到了这本书原主人的名字——霍利里斯·玛尼尔小姐。他费了一些时间和力气终于找到了她的地址，给她写了一封信，介绍了自己，并请她和自己通信。
随后的一年零一个月里，两个人通过写信加深了对彼此的了解。一段浪漫故事渐渐萌芽。约翰想要一张照片，但她却拒绝了。她觉得如果他真的喜欢她，就不会介意外貌。后来他们安排了第一次见面——晚上7点钟在纽约中央火车站。
“你会认出我的，”她写道，“我会把一朵红玫瑰别在衣领上。”于是那天晚上7点他就在车站寻找那位戴着红玫瑰的女孩。
一个穿着绿色套装的女孩向他走来，她高挑又苗条，蓝眼睛像花一样迷人。他几乎是不由自主地向她迈了一步。就在这时，他看见了霍利斯·玛尼尔——一个年过40的女人。女孩很快地走远了。他感觉自己裂成了两半，他是多想跟上那女孩，却又深深向往这个在精神上陪伴他、鼓舞他的女人。
他没有迟疑，挺起胸膛，说道：“我是约翰，你一定是玛尼尔小姐吧。我很高兴你来见我，我能请你吃饭吗？”
女人笑了笑。“孩子，我不知道这是怎么回事，”她回答，“但是那个穿绿色套装的女孩请求我把这朵玫瑰别在我的外套上。她说如果你邀请我吃饭的话，就让我告诉你，她在马路对面的餐厅等你。她说这是个考验！”
The Happy Door 快乐是一扇门
Happiness is like a pebble dropped into a pool to set in motion an ever-widening circle of ripples. As Stevenson has said， being happy is a duty.
There is no exact de finition of the word happiness. Happy people are happy for all sorts of reasons. The key of happiness is not wealth or physical well-being， since we find beggars， invalids and so-called failures， who are extremely happy.
Being happy is a sort of unexpected dividend. But staying happy is an accomplishment， a triumph of soul and character. It is not sel fish to strive for it. It is， indeed， a duty to ourselves and others.
Being unhappy is like an infectious disease. It causes people to shrink away from the sufferer. He soon finds himself alone， miserable and embittered. There is， however， a cure so simple as to seem， at first glance， ridiculous： if you don't feel happy， pretend to be！
It works. Before long you will find that instead of repelling people， you attract them. You discover how deeply rewarding it is to be the center of wider and wider circles of good will.
Then the make-believe becomes a reality. You possess the secret of peace of mind， and can forget yourself in being of service to others.
Being happy， once it is realized as a duty and established as a habit， opens doors into unimaginable gardens thronged with grateful friends.
invalid n. 残疾人，病人
dividend n. 红利
make-believe n. 假装
快乐就像一颗石子，丢进池塘会激起阵阵涟漪。正如史蒂文森所说，快乐是一种责任。
快乐这个词没有确切的定义。快乐的人有很多理由感觉快乐。快乐的关键并不是财富或健康，因为我们发现有些乞丐、残疾人和所谓的失败者也非常快乐。
快乐是一种意外的收获，但保持快乐却是一种成就、一种心灵与性格的胜利。追求快乐并不自私。实际上，这是我们对自己和他人的责任。
不快乐就像传染病，让人们远离被感染者。他很快就会发现自己处于孤独、悲惨、痛苦的境地。然而，有一种简单得乍看上去似乎荒谬的处方：如果你不快乐，就假装快乐！
这很有效。不久你就会发现，别人不再躲着你，相反你开始吸引他们。你会发现以你为中心不断扩大的善意将给你带来多大的回报。
然后假装就变成了现实。你拥有了心灵平静的秘诀，并能够忘我地帮助他人。
一旦你认识到快乐是一种责任，并使快乐成为你的习惯，通向不可思议的花园的大门就会向你敞开，那里满是对你心怀感激的朋友。
A Cab Ride 出租车上
"Penn Station，" I told the cab driver. The young， heavyset man peered at me through his sunglasses and motioned me to get in.
"I've got to get to JFK airport by 2：30 p. m. You think I'll be able to get there via LIRR (Long Island Rail Road) or should I cab it all the way？" I asked him， as I got comfortable in the back seat.
"Hmmm. You should be okay. Yeah， you'll make it. It will be much cheaper to take the train，" he replied in a mild South Asian accent.
"Thanks，" I told him. Given his engaging nature， we naturally started a conversation， which went from the weather and quickly veered into the struggles of a cab driver's life.
"How long have you been driving cabs？"
"Three years."
"You like it？"
"It's really hard work. Not all people are so nice. I get tired， but what can you do？ You have to pay the bills."
"I hear you."
Like most New York cab drivers， he accelerated constantly and braked often， zoomed through red lights， almost nicked a couple of cars and still， never broke a sweat.
"What do you do？" he asked curiously.
"I help a nonprofit organization trying to bring some goodness in the world，" I responded.
"Do they pay you well？"
"Well， no， but I get by. I don't have many material things in life， the IRS would consider me poor， but you know， I've realized that I don't need all that to keep me happy. If I die tomorrow， I want to go out knowing that I've made a few people smile."
The young cab driver， perhaps in his late thirties， looked back through the sliding glass as if extending his hand for a hand shake- "Man， it is nice to meet you. It is really nice to meet you." Although we were strangers， both of us felt deeply connected as human beings. And by now， 7 minutes into our ride， we were on a first-name basis. He even spelled his name for me： B-e-r-n-s-t-e-i-n.
Bernstein and I talked a bit about simple acts of generosity， the power of a pay-it-forward mindset and how that can promote trust and connection in our communities. He understood the idea， but it seemed very abstract and foreign to him， so I gave him the example of a New Yerk restaurant I knew about： "So， you walk into this restaurant and you get a meal without paying for it. Then your check says$0.00-someone before you has paid for your meal， and you can pay-forward for the person after you. You pay whatever you want for someone you don't know."
"So who comes to this restaurant？"
"It's not like a soup-kitchen for the homeless； it's a place where everyone comes in."
"Wow， really？ That is something."
Our conversation was one of those lively， happy conversations. We were both laughing it up and sharing stories， when he turned to me and said， "Can I keep in touch with you？ I want to help. I want to be associated with this."
Perhaps it broke protocol for a cab driver to ask for the business card of his customer， but Bernstein and I felt like old friends. "Sure thing， buddy." We traded e-mail addresses as he informed me that he had a laptop at home from which he could check e-mails once every couple of days.
"You know what you could do， Bernstein？" I suggested in a conspiring tone. "You could give free ride to people every so often， and see how they respond. Imagine the dinner conversation that they will have with their family that night."
"Wow. Yeah. I will do it. Every week， I can give away a $5 cab ride." After a re flective pause， he added， "Man， I'm moved."
We arrived at Penn Station. "$14. 15" was the total. I gave him$15， and was looking through my wallet for more when he immediately planted a dollar bill into my hands and insisted that I don't tip him- "No， no. Please." It was 15 cents， but in his heart， Bernstein was giving me a free ride and I was blessed to receive it.
As I was heading out， I turned to him and said， "Bernstein， you know how we talked about this pay-it-forward idea； well， here's a $20. Whenever you feel like it， you give a ride to people and tell them that someone before them has paid for their fare. See what happens."
Hearing this， Bernstein was visibly moved. "Really？ Are you sure？"
"Absolutely."
"I will give them your e-mail address too."
"No， no. This is not about you or I. Ask them to just pay it forward. And here， give them this card，" I said as I handed him a couple of Smile Cards.
Standing on the street， I looked in through the back window and said， "Alright， my friend， be well."
Almost speechless， he repeated one last time： "Man， I'm moved."
So was I.
veer v. （突然）转向
zoom v. 疾行
protocol n. 礼仪
“宾州车站。”我对出租车司机说。这个敦实的年轻人隔着太阳镜瞟了我一眼，然后示意我上车。
“我得在下午两点半之前到肯尼迪机场。你觉得我该坐长岛线去，还是一直坐着出租车去？”我在后座上坐定后问他。
“嗯，你应该没问题。对，你会赶上的。坐火车会便宜很多。”他回答道，带着少许南亚口音。
“谢谢。”我说。他性格讨喜，我们很自然地开始聊起来，话题从天气转到出租车司机生活的艰难。
“你开出租车多久了？”
“三年。”
“你喜欢这差事吗？”
“这活儿很辛苦。并不是所有人都和善。我厌倦了，但是能怎么办呢？你得付账单啊。”
“我理解。”
像大多数纽约出租车司机一样，他频频加速，也频频刹车，速度飞快地闯红灯，差点儿跟几辆车撞上，却仍然镇定自若。
“你是做什么的？”他好奇地问。
“我在一家非营利机构工作，尽力为这个世界做点好事。”我答道。
“他们给你的薪水高吗？”
“嗯，不多，但我也过得去。我没有很多的财产，国税局会认定我是穷人，但是你知道，我发觉我并不需要有很多财产才觉得幸福。如果我明天会死，我想在出门的时候知道自己曾经让一些人微笑过。”
年轻的出租车司机（可能不到40岁）扭头透过滑动隔窗看了看我，好像要和我握手似的——“伙计，很高兴见到你。真的很高兴见到你。”虽然我们互不相识，却感觉彼此十分投缘。这会儿车开了七分钟，我们已经互称名字了。他甚至给我拼出了他的名字：B-e-r-n-s-t-e-i-n。
伯恩斯坦和我聊了聊简单易行的慷慨之举，“为下一个人付款”的理念有怎样的力量，它可以加强社区中人与人之间的联系和信任。他明白这个理念，但这在他看来既抽象又陌生，于是我给他讲了我知道的一家纽约餐厅的例子：“就这样，你走进这家餐厅，吃完饭不用给钱，你的账单上是零美元——之前来的某个人已经给你付了账，而你可以给后来的人付账。你可以给不认识的人付账，多少都行。”
“那谁来这家餐厅吃饭呢？”
“那里和给无家可归者提供饮食的地方不一样，任何人都可以去。”
“哇，真的吗？真不错。”
我们聊得相当起劲又愉快。我俩开怀大笑，给对方讲故事，突然他扭头跟我说：“我能跟你保持联系吗？我也想帮点儿忙。我想参与这件事。”
也许出租车司机向乘客要名片不合规矩，但是伯恩斯坦和我感觉就像老朋友。“当然，伙计。”我们还交换了电子邮箱地址，他告诉我他家里有笔记本电脑，他隔几天就会查查邮箱。
“你知道你能做什么吗，伯恩斯坦？”我用同党的语气建议道。“你可以不时让乘客免费搭车，看看他们有什么反应。想象一下晚上他们会在饭桌上和家人怎么说。”
“哇。对啊。我就这么做。每周我可以送出五美元车费。”他想了想，又说，“老兄，我被感动了。”
我们到了宾州车站。车费总共是14.15美元，我给了他15美元，然后又在钱包里翻找，他立刻拿1块钱塞到了我手里，而且坚持让我不用给他小费——“不用，不用。求你了。”虽然只少算了15美分，但是在伯恩斯坦心里，他是免费载了我，我很高兴地接受了。
下车时，我转向他说：“伯恩斯坦，你明白我们说的那个‘为下一个人付款’的主意吧；好，这是20美元。当你想的时候，你就免费载客，告诉他们之前有人已经给他们付了车费。看看会发生什么。”
听到这个，伯恩斯坦明显感动了。“真的吗？你确定？”
“非常确定。”
“我会把你的邮箱地址也给他们。”
“不，不用。这不是你或我的事，就请他们也为下一个人付款。还有这个，把这个卡片给他们。”我说着，递给他几张笑脸卡。
我站在街道上，看着车子的后窗说：“好啦，我的朋友，保重。”
他几乎不知道说什么，最后又重复了一遍：“朋友，我很感动。”
我也是。
A Fairy Tale Night 童话之夜
Malia， a senior in high school， had wanted so badly for her dream to come true like Cinderella's dream came ture. She wanted to have at least one night with Prince Charming. Malia had never had a boyfriend in her life， and most of the girls at her age have had many， many boyfriends. So she was very jealous. Although she was popular， Malia was very picky on who she wanted to be with， which is why she never had a boyfriend. Many guys liked her， but none of them had ever told her they did because they were too worried they would get turned down. They had no clue that she cried herself to sleep every night， wanting a boyfriend to hold her and tell her all of her troubles were going to be over soon. None of the boys were courageous enough to tell her how they felt about her， so she would lay in agony every night thinking she was too ugly to have a boyfriend. Her girl friends always told her not to worry about guys because they were nothing but trouble， and that she was too pretty for a boyfriend anyway. Her friends'advice never helped her out very much， so she kept being scared of the future， thinking she'd be lonely for the rest of her life.
As the school dance coming up， Malia told one of her better guy friends that she'd go with him. She went with him because they were close friends. Her best friend was taking the guy that she really wanted to take. It was an awkward situation because her friend wanted to go with who she was taking， and she wanted to take who her friend was taking.
The big dance came up， and when the girls got there， Malia made all the boys stare because of her beauty. After her date and she got their table， her date left to dance with her best friend. Malia sat at her table and watched her best friend dance with her date. She was sad that her date had left her for her best friend.
About twenty minutes passed and she hadn't seen her best friend's date. She wondered if he left， and she got the idea to leave herself. As she grabbed her coat and purse， and walked down the steps of the dance hall， she felt something pull on her dress. When she turned around， she saw the handsome face of her friend's date looking at her in shock.
"Why are you leaving the dance？" he asked her. He looked at her as though he didn't want her to leave.
"My date is dancing with my friend，" she answered with a face as though it upset her， but she accepted her friend's decision.
"Won't you stay and talk with me for a while？" He asked with fear of rejection.
