Slow and Steady Wins the Race!
UNSV英语学习频道 - Slow and steady wins the race!

AMERICAN STORIES - Survive In Adverse Seasons

作者:Berry Targon 发布日期:2-13-2010

Now, the weekly VOA Special English Program, American Stories. Our story today is called “Survive In Adverse Seasons”, it was written by Berry Targon, here is Shep O’Neal to tell you the story.

Abble Harnic was fifty-nine years old when his wife Estel died, her death was sudden and honest backdate, the kind of death you can not forget.

Abble Harnic burriede his wife, then he stopped doing anything. His work, the world, life and all it’s possibilities were no longer important to him. He had learned quickly that the laws about life he had trusted did not really igsist after all. For a year, Abble Harnic did nothing. But one morning, he decided to study Latin, he chose Latin because it was a deaf language. It would never be important or even useful to him in the years he had left to live, and so Abble Harnic entered a Latin class, talked by Silvy Awaring on Monday evenings.

Silvy Awaring was thin and small, her long straight hair was silver grey. She smiled esily at everything like a young person, she had taught Latin for 23 years at the local high school. When she was 53, the school stopped offering Latin. Latin was not useful in a world excited by technology and space travel. Silvy Awaring retired, now she spent her time painting, taking pictures, playing the piano and visiting with her friends. She also taught Latin to a doubts at a local high school in the evening. She had never married or even been in love, she wondered about this more than anything else about her life. Men had found her good-looking, and still dead, but no one had come alone, ever.

During the first Latin class that night, a storm dark in the sky. After class, Abble Harnic walked with Silvy Waring to the door near the school parking lot, they stood near the open door, watching the storm. “It’s a bad night to be out.” He said.

She nodded, “But it can’t rain this hard for long.” She said. She held her books tightly to her body, and disappeared into the rain.

When Abble Harnic left the building a few minutes later, he saw her bending over the engine of her car.

“It won’t start.” She said.

He looked at the engine, after a moment, he found the problem. “It’s the radio stead at the pressor.” He said, “Try it now.”

The car started at once.

“Wait!” he said, “You might still have problems brfore you get home, stop at m house, and I’ll fix it for you.”

He drove home slowly and put his car into the large garage connected to his house. Silvy Awaring drove in after him.

Abble Harnic ’s garage was really a work shop, here, he had all the tools and equipment he needed to create or repair anything. In less than 5 minutes, he fixed her car. There he said, “Better than new. Um, would you like a cup of coffee?” She walked with him that the door connected with the garage to the house. Abble Harnic moved his fingers over a metal square on the door, and it opened. “What are you, Mr.Harnic, a magician?” Silvy Awaring laughed excitedly.

“I’m retired,” he said, “but I was an inventor. I understood how things worked, and I found ways to make them better.” He told her about the work he have done, he had not spoken so much to some-one for a long time.

The folloing Monday evening, Abble Harnic went back to Silvy Awaring ’s Latin class, and he returned every Monday night. They got to know each other better, Silvy Awaring introduced him to her closest friend, Milldraid Lathen , who taught biology and collected rare butterflies.

One afternoon, the three of them met for coffee. “I think you be interested in insects, Mr.Harnic.” Milldraid Lathen told him, “They are a lot like machines, they are fast nating because they are perfectly perdictable, you always know what they will do.” “I’m too busy.” Abble Harnic said sharply, “My head is too full of Latin.” He finished his coffee, said good-bye and left.

Half way home from Milldraid Lathen ’s house, he turned around and drove to a local public library, he wanted to find out if he is right when she saids insects were perfectly perdictable.

In one book called The Life Of Insects, he learned about diapause. He read:

This conditions is means for surrive in adverse seasons, the insect enteres a deep sleep, all grouth stoppes and it’s body lautions slow down. The state of diappose can last two or three years or even longer. But finally, it ends, and the insect awakes to coninue with normal life.

Abble Harnic closed the book. His days filled up, he studied Latin, visited his daughter and her family once a week. He met with Silvy Awaring and Milldraid Lathen for dinner often, and when April came, he went with them into the country. The experience as new to Abble Harnic , he knew about engines and machines, but the woods, the rivers, the anmials, the insects of the fields belonged to another world. He watched Milldraid Lathen and Silvy Awaring as they explored a head of him. Silvy jumped on a wide, flat rock, troing over her arms to the sky, she began reciting Latin portry to the ild flowers and the blue sky.

Abble Harnic smiled and loked up at the sky himself, when he looked down, she was gone. Milldraid Lathen was running to the rock, he stood up quickly and hurried down the side of the hill to them. Silvea was lying very still on the ground when he reached her, Milldraid Lathen was by her side, crying softly.

At the hospital, the doctoe asked them, “Are you her family?”

“No,” Milldraid Lathen said, “There is no family, we are her friends.”

They were sitting in a small office where thay had been waiting for hours. “We don’t have all the tests back yet.” The dctoe continue, “But it looks like a form of Flupers Amazana Molpis .”

“What’s that?” Abble Harnic asked.

The doctoe explained, “It was a blood disease that cause the body to its own tishues in time, it killed.”

“How much time?” Abble Harnic asked.

“It’s not predictable,” the doctor said, “The disease suddenly goes away. And then, just as suddenly, returns, with lompos you never know.”

Abble Harnic did not sleep well, he oke up at in the morning, got dressed, and drove to the university three hours away. At the university, he went to the library. He took the Latin that he knew, and used it to make a gift for her. He wanted to say what he wanted her to know in language than better than his own. So, he worked his way trough books of Latin forturea and stores. When he found a sentence he wanted, he hold it down in Latin.

From the creatures he wrote,

like children trembling in the dark.

We sit and our afraid,

and all are fears are empty,

like the things children imagine in the dark.

From horris,

the ice mealts,

and spring comes,

followed by summer,

soon to die.

For after her comes often,

and then back to winter,

when nothing moves.

From can tell us,

her favorite poet,

he copied.

If a wish for thing and a thing past hopinph for

should come to a man,

will he welcome at the more.

Therefor, it is more welcome to me than gold,

at least be a bring back mind disaerabla.

Then he picked up his fen to write to her in his own words.

All of this means we like the insects must died.

Death must come to all living creatures,

if there is come for anywhere,

it is in the truth,

and in the act of these words.

Milldraid Lathen was with her whe he came into the hospital room, he ended Silvy Awaring the paper. She rad it and cried. Then she dried her eyes. She looked up at him, smiling and nodded once. And toghther, they settled down to wait for the long night soon to come.

You have just heard the story Surrive In Adverse Seasons, written by Berry Targon. It was adapted by Special English by Dona Desantis, permission was given Baidy Oter for dabretation. This story is copy-writed, all writes reserved. Your story teller was Shep O’Neal , the derecter was Lawang Davis . For VOA Special English, this is Sherly Griffet .

作者:Frank Suen
8-23-2011 23:2:6
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