站在父亲的肩膀上

liver411

楷文是国内一位朋友的孩子。十六岁到美国。朋友曾交待，帮我们照看照看。然而，山高皇帝远，等我们联系上的时候，时隔三年，楷文已经是伯克里大学的学生了。他懂事礼貌，认真刻苦，是天下所有父母梦想中的孩子。从中国来美国才短短一年，他便争取并成为他们市报的“高中记者”，给市报写稿。他的英语不能说十分地道，但真情实意充满其间，使得他从千万个native English speakers中脱颖而出，成为市报征文中的胜者。这篇文章讲述了一个忙碌的父亲在孩子成长过程中留下的烙印。

For eighteen years, I have dreamed that my family could sit at the dinner table together more often, but this happened so rarely that having dinner together seemed a celebration to me. My father, a businessman who travels all over the world, seldom has a chance to come home and play his role as a father. People say that my father and I are very much alike; we have similar features and the same hobby—basketball. I heard from my mom that my father was a wonderful point guard in college, and she always joked that this was the reason she married him. People who know my father all considered him a successful businessman and a caring person. But I doubted it; at least he was not a good father in my heart.

However, I think my father was trying hard. Every time he came home, he brought me fancy things, such as Michael Jordan’s signature basketball that I could show off to my friends. Every night when he was away, he called home, asked me how I did in school and basketball and said goodnight. But I knew I needed more than that. When I was little, I saw my friends playing games with their fathers; I prayed that someday I could have a chance to play basketball with my father. But it never happened because he was too busy, always. I was disappointed with my father and as I grew up, I lost my patience, and my disappointment shifted to hatred.

Cynicism began to pervade my mind. I started chatting on the Internet and found it a way to get rid of my disappointment. I became obsessed with it because there I had Goodman, the screen name of the person I constantly chatted with. I didn’t know how old he was or where he was; all I knew was that we both shared a love of basketball and, more importantly, he was trustworthy. We not only talked about basketball, but also about my feelings, and he always tried to diminish my hatred towards my father. He was like a big brother to me. It was he who helped me solve my homework problems; it was he who listened to the daily stories of my life; it was he who taught me how to be a responsible person; and, it was he who told me to be confident and motivated.

I became more interested in chatting with Goodman than sitting and waiting for my father’s call. Even when my father was at home, I wanted to chat with Goodman instead of cherishing the only time I could have been spending with my father.
It was more than lucky for me to have a friend like Goodman, and I considered him a gift from God to compensate for my lack of my father’s love. With his help and advice, I began to excel at school and became a well-rounded student.

One day, when I was expecting to chat with Goodman, my father came home after attending a meeting in England. I didn’t talk to him much because I was waiting for Goodman who was, unusually, a little late tonight. Finally he showed up; I knew he would. Unlike my father, Goodman never disappointed me. Goodman seemed a bit upset, which made me worried about him. Suddenly, my right arm pushed my cup, and it dropped from the desk with a shatter. While I was picking up pieces of glass, Goodman sent me a message: “Be careful, son.”

At that moment I realized the truth and tears flooded from my eyes. For such a long time under my misunderstanding, although he couldn’t physically be with me, in one way or another he was always trying to be with me, help me, support me, and cheer me up. In that moment, I transformed from a naïve little boy to a mature man

johnleee

welcome to e&E

it seems you hv so many articles to share with us
hehe