Every night before I go to bed，I check on my two sons.I stand over them and watch their little bodies，the rising and falling of life within.I often pray for them.Mostly I pray that their lives will be easy.But lately I’ve been thinking that it’s time to change my prayer.
This change has to do with the inevitability of cold winds that hit us at the core.I know my children are going to encounter hardship，and I’m praying they won’t be naive.There’s always a cold wind blowing somewhere.
So I’m changing my prayer.Because life is tough，whether we want it to be or not.Too many times we pray for ease，but that’s a prayer seldom met.What we need to do is pray for roots that reach deep into the Eternal，so when the rains fall and the winds blow，we won’t be swept asunder.
生命的学堂
在我还是小孩子的时候，我有一个老邻居叫吉布斯医生。他不像我所认识的任何一个医生。我们在他的院子里玩耍，他从不对我们大喊大叫。我记得他是一个非常和蔼的人。
吉布斯医生不拯救人性命的时候就去种树。他的住所占地10英亩，他的人生目标就是将它变成一片森林。
这个好医生对于如何持家有一番有趣的理论。他来自一个“不劳无获”的园艺学校。他从不浇灌他新种的树，这显然与常理相悖。有一次我问为什么，他说浇水会毁了这些树，如果浇水，每一棵成活的树的后代会变得越来越娇弱。所以你得把它们的生长环境变得艰苦些，尽早淘汰那些弱不禁风的树。
他还告诉我用水浇灌的树的根是如何的浅，而那些没有浇水的树的根必须钻入深深的泥土获得水分。我将他的话理解为：深根是十分宝贵的。
所以他从不给他的树浇水。他种了一棵橡树，每天早上，他不是给它浇水，而是用一张卷起的报纸抽打它。“啪！噼！砰！”我问他为什么这样做，他说是为了引起树的注意。
在我离家两年后，吉布斯医生就去世了。我常常经过他的房子，看着那些25年前我曾看着他种下的那些树。如今它们已是像石头般硬朗了。枝繁叶茂、生气勃勃。这些树在早晨醒过来，拍打着胸脯，啜饮着苦难的汁水。
几年前我也种下两三棵树。整整一个夏天我都坚持为它们浇水。为它们喷杀虫剂，为它们祈祷。整整9平方码大的地方。两年的悉心呵护，结果两棵树弱不禁风。每当寒风吹起，它们就颤抖起来，枝叶直打战。娇里娇气的两棵树。
吉布斯医生的树真是有趣。逆境和折磨带给它们的益处似乎是舒适和安逸永远无法给予的。
每天晚上睡觉前，我都要看看两个儿子。我俯视着他们那幼小的身体，生命就在其中起落沉浮。我总是为他们祈祷，总是祈祷他们的生活能一帆风顺。但后来我想是该改变我的祈祷词的时候了。
这改变是因为将吹在我们要害的不可避免的寒风。我知道我的孩子们将遇到困难，我祈祷他们不会幼稚而脆弱。在某些地方总会有寒风吹过。
所以我改变了我的祈祷词。因为不管我们愿不愿意，生活总是艰难的。我们已祈祷了太多的安逸，但却少有实现。我们所需要做的是祈祷深植我们的信念之根，这样我们就不会被雨打风吹所伤害。
Father’s Words
He was 11years old and went fishing every chance he got from the dock at his family’s cabin on an island in the middle of a New Hampshire lake.
On the day before the bass season opened，he and his father were fishing early in the evening，catching sunfish and perch with worms.Then he tied on a small silver lure and practiced casting.The lure struck the water and caused colored ripples in the sunset，then silver ripples as the moon rose over the lake.
When his peapole doubled over，he knew something huge was on the other end.His father watched with admiration as the boy skillfully worked the fish alongside the dock.
Finally，he very gingerly lifted the exhausted fish from the water.It was the largest one he had ever seen，but it was a bass.
The boy and his father looked at the handsome fish，gills playing back and forth in the moonlight.The father lit a match and looked at his watch.It was 10p.m.—two hours before the season opened.He looked at the fish，then at the boy.
“You’ll have to put it back，son.”he said.
“Dad！”cried the boy.
“There will be other fish.”said his father.
“Not as big as this one.”cried the boy.
He looked around the lake.No other fishermen or boats were anywhere around in the moonlight.He looked again at his father.Even though no one had seen them，nor could anyone ever know what time he caught the fish，the boy could tell by the clarity of his father’s voice that the decision was not negotiable.He slowly worked the hook out of the lip of the huge bass and lowered it into the black water.
The creature swished its powerful body and disappeared.The boy suspected that he would never again see such a great fish.
That was 34years ago.Today，the boy is a successful architect in New York City.His father’s cabin is still there on the island in the middle of the lake.He takes his own son and daughters fishing from the same dock.
And he was right.He has never again caught such a magnificent fish as the one he landed that night long ago.But he does see that same fish —again and again —every time he comes up against a question of ethics.
For，as his father taught him，ethics are simple matters of right and wrong.It is only the practice of ethics that is difficult.Do we do right when no one is looking？Do we refuse to cut corners to get the design in on time？Or refuse to trade stocks based on information that we know we aren’t supposed to have？
We would if we were taught to put the fish back when we were young.For we would have learned the truth.The decision to do right lives fresh and fragrant in our memory.It is a story we will proudly tell our friends and grandchildren.Not about how we had a chance to beat the system and took it，but about how we did the right thing and were forever strengthened.
父亲的教诲
他11岁那时，只要一有机会，就会到他家在新汉普郡湖心岛上的小屋的码头上钓鱼。
鲈鱼季节开放的前一天晚上，他和父亲早早开始垂钓，用小虫作饵钓太阳鱼和鲈鱼。他系上鱼饵，练习如何抛线。鱼钩击在水面，在夕阳中漾起一片金色的涟漪，夜晚月亮升出湖面时，涟漪就成了银色。
当鱼等向下弯的时候，他知道线的另一端一定钓到了一条大鱼。父亲看着他技巧纯熟地在码头边沿和鱼周旋，眼神充满赞赏。
最后他小心翼翼地将筋疲力尽的鱼提出水面。这是他所见过的最大的一条，还是一条鲈鱼。
男孩和他父亲看着这条漂亮的鱼，它的鱼鳃在月光下一张一翕。父亲点燃一根火柴，看了看表。十点了——离开禁还有两个小时。他看了看鱼，又看了看男孩。
“你得把它放回去，孩子。”他说道。
“爸爸！”男孩叫道。
“还有其他的鱼嘛。”父亲说道。
“但没这么大。”男孩叫道。
他环视了一遍湖。月光下附近没有其他的渔民或船只。他又看了看他父亲。从父亲不可动摇的语气中，他知道这个决定没有商量余地，即使没有人看到他们，更无从得知他们何时钓到了鱼。他慢慢地将鱼钩从大鲈鱼的唇上取下，然后蹲下将鱼放回水中。
鱼儿摆动着它强健的身躯，消失在水中。男孩想，他可能再也看不到这么大的鱼了。
那是34年前的事了。现在，男孩是纽约的一个成功的建筑师。他父亲的小屋依然在湖心岛上，他带着自己的儿女仍然在同一个码头上钓鱼。
他猜得没错。自那次以后，他再也没有见过那么大的鱼了。但每次他面临道德难题而举棋不定的时候，他的眼前总是浮现出那条鱼。
他父亲曾告诉他，道德即是简单的对和错的问题，但要付诸行动却很难。在没人瞧见的时候，我们是否仍始终如一，一丝不苟？为了将图纸及时送到，我们是不是也会抄近路？或者在明知道不可以的情况下，仍将公司股份卖掉？
在我们还小的时候，如果有人要我们把鱼放回去，我们会这样做，因为我们还在学习真理。正确的决定在我们的记忆里变得深刻而清晰。这个故事我们可以骄傲地讲给朋友和子孙们听，不是关于如何攻击和战胜某种体制，而是如何做正确的决定，从而变得无比坚强。
