Tuesday, October 28, 2008

the vixen and the lioness

 One morning when a vixen was taking her babies out of the lair, she saw a lioness and her cub.
  "Why do you have only one child, dear dame?" asked the vixen.
  "Look at my healthy and numerous children here, and imagine, if you are able, how a proud mother should feel."
  the lioness said calmly, "Yes, just look at that beautiful collection. What are they? Foxes! I've only one, but remember, that one is a lion."

Monday, October 6, 2008

Be there just to make up the number

  During the Warring States Period (475-221BC), the King of the State of Qi was very fond of listening to yu ensembles. He often got together 300 yu players to form a grand music. The king treated his musician very well. A man named Nanguo heard about that and he managed to become a member of the band, even though he wan not good at playing the instrument at all. Whenever the band played for the king, Nanguo just stood in the line and pretended to play. Nobody realized he was making no sound at all. As a result, he enjoyed his treatment just as the other musician did. When the king died, his son became the new ruler who also liked the music played on the yu. However, he preferred solos so that he ordered the musicians to play the yu one by one. Therefore, Nanguo had to run out of the palace.
  The idiom "Be there just to make up the number" is used to mock someone who passes for a specialist. You can also hear people saying it about themselves to show their modesty.
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Do not burn you house to get rid of a mouse

 There is a story in "Hanshu" telling of a rich man, who being a lover of s and had a large collection. Among them was a rare vase made of jade. The vase of exquisite workmanship and of historical value and he loved it dearly. One night he noticed a mouse passing near the precious vase. The mouse jumped into the vase and was trying to eat some food which the man had carelessly left there. The sigh infuriated the man and in a fit of rage he threw a stone at the mouse. For sure, the mouse was killed, but the precious vase was broken also. The loss of the vase pained the man and he deeply regretted his own thoughtlessness, which bought him this unrecoverable loss. He now realized that any one, who cares for the present and overlooks consequences is apt to bring disasters upon himself. So he exclaimed to warn people by saying do not burn you house to get rid of a mouse.
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A Roc's flight of ten thousand li-A bright future

In the Chinese classic 《Chuangtze》, there is a legend like this:
  Once upon a time, a gigantic fish named Kun lived in the northern sea. No one knew how large it actually was. This fish could change itself into the enormous bird called Peng (roc), measuring thousands of kilometers in length. When the bird was spreading its wings, it looked like huge clouds in the sky. It could, in one stretch, fly from the northern sea to the southern sea on the other side of the globe and soaring up to 90000 li (45000 kilometers) in the heaven.
  The bird can surely fly over a long distance without stop. Now people use this idiom to with others have a long career or a bright future.
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The horse which does harm to the herd-A black sheep

  It was about four thousand years ago. Huangdi (Yellow Emperor)-the first legendary ruler in China went to the countryside to visit an old friend with his entourage. They met a boy keeping watch over a herd of horses on their way.
  Huangdi asked the boy, "Do you know the way to my friend's village far away from here?"
  The boy said yes.
  Then the emperor asked, "Do you know my friend?"
  The answer was yes again.
  Huangdi thought the boy was broad-minded. So he asked him,"Do you know how to rule a country?"
  The boy said, "There is little difference between ruling a country and watching over a herd of horses. You simply have to drive the wild horses out of the herd."
  The emperor left, brooding over the boy's words.
  The idiom is taken from what the boy said and is used to describe anyone who has a bad influence on his peers.

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Bring the dying back to life

  Long long ago, there was a famous doctor named Bian Que who usually traveled everywhere to collect medicine to cure patients.
  One day, he heard about the sudden death of the prince of the State of Guo when he was passing the country. He inquired about the case of the prince from an official. Then he decided the prince wasn't dead, but was suffering a strange illness. He told the official he could save the prince and bring him back to life. He asked the official to take him to the capital. At first, the official rejected. But he was so insistent that the official to report it to the King. Since there was no any other way the King had to let Bian have a try. Bian used acupuncture therapy and the prince responded in no time. Then he continued to prescribe some medicine for a hot compress. Immediately, the prince sat up. Before he left, Bian gave 20 doses of medicine to the prince. And the prince recovered completely in 20 days.
  Later, people use the idiom to praise the excellent skill of a doctor.
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Sunday, October 5, 2008

Helen Keller

  All of us have read thrilling stories in which the hero had only a limited and specified time to live. Sometimes it was as long as a year; sometimes as short as twenty-four hours, but always we were interested in discovering just how the doomed man chose to spend his last days or his last hours. I speak, of course, of free men who have a choice, not condemned criminals whose sphere of activities is strictly delimited.
  Such stories set up thinking, wondering what we should do under similar circumstances. What associations should we crowd into those last hours as mortal beings? What happiness should we find in reviewing the past, what regrets?
   Sometimes I have thought it would be an excellent rule to live each day as if we should die tomorrow. Such an attitude would emphasize sharply the values of life. We should live each day with a gentleness, a vigor, and a keenness of appreciation which are often lost when time stretches before us in the constant panorama of more days and months and years to come. There are those, of course, who would adopt the epicurean motto of “Eat, drink, and be merry,” most people would be chastened by the certainty of impending death.

  Most of us take life for granted. We know that one day we must die, but usually we picture that day as far in the future, when we are in buoyant health, death is all but unimaginable. We seldom think of it. The days stretch out in an endless vista. So we go about our petty task, hardly aware of our listless attitude towards life.
  The same lethargy, I am afraid, characterizes the use of our faculties and senses. Only the deaf appreciate hearing, only the blind realize the manifold blessings that lie in sight. Particularly does this observation apply to those who have lost sight and hearing in adult life. But those who have never suffered impairment of sight or hearing seldom make the fullest use of these blessed faculties. Their eyes and ears take in all sights and sound hazily, without concentration, and with little appreciation. It is the same old story of not being grateful for what we conscious of health until we are ill.
  I have often thought it would be a blessing if each human being were stricken blind and deaf for a few days at some time during his early adult life. Darkness would make him more appreciative of sight; silence would teach him the joys of sound.
  Now and then I have tested my seeing friends to discover what they see. Recently I was visited by a very good friend who had just returned from a long walk in the woods, and I asked her what she had observed. “Nothing in particular,” she replied. I might have been incredulous had I not been accustomed to such responses, for long ago I became convinced that the seeing see little.

  How was it possible, I asked myself, to walk for an hour through the woods and see nothing worthy of note? I who cannot see find hundreds of things to interest me through mere touch. I feel the delicate symmetry of a leaf. I pass my hands lovingly about the smooth skin of a silver birch, or the rough shaggy bark of a pine. In spring I touch the branches of trees hopefully in search of a bud, the first sign of awakening Nature after her winter’s sleep I feel the delightful, velvety texture of a flower, and discover its remarkable convolutions; and something of the miracle of Nature is revealed to me. Occasionally, if I am very fortunate, I place my hand gently in a small tree and feel the happy quiver of a bird in full song. I am delighted to have cool waters of a brook rush through my open fingers. To me a lush carpet of pine needles or spongy grass is more welcome than the most luxurious Persian rug. To me the pageant of seasons is a thrilling and unending drama, the action of which streams through my finger tips. At times my heart cries out with longing to see all these things. If I can get so much pleasure from mere touch, how much more beauty must be revealed by sight. Yet, those who have eyes apparently see little. The panorama of color and action fill the world is taken for granted. It is human, perhaps, to appreciate little that which we have and to long for that which we have not, but it is a great pity that in the world of light and the gift of sight is used only as mere convenience rather that as a means of adding fullness to life.
  Oh, the things that I should see if I had the power of sight for three days!

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Beautiful Smile and Love

The poor are very wonderful people. One evening we went out and we picked up four people from the street. And one of them was in a most terrible condition,and I told the sisters: You take care of the other three. I take care of this one who looked worse. So I did for her all that my love can do. I put her in bed, and there was such a beautiful smile on her face. She took hold of my hand as she said just the words “thank you” and she died. I could not help but examine my conscience[良心]before her and I asked what would I say if I was in her place. And my answer was very simple. I would have tried to draw a little attention to myself. I would have said I am hungry, that I am dying, I am cold, I am in pain, or something, but she gave me much more-she gave me her grateful love. And she died with a smile on her face. As did that man whom we picked up from the drain[阴沟、下水道], half eaten with worms, and we brought him to the home. “I have lived like an animal in the street, but I am going to die like an angel, loved and cared for.” And it was so wonderful to see the greatness of that man who could speak like that, who could die like that without blaming anybody, without cursing anybody, without comparing anything. Like an angel-this is the greatness of our people. And that is why we believe what Jesus had said: I was hungry, I was naked, I was homeless, I was unwanted, unloved, uncared for, and you did it to me.


I believe that we are not real social workers. We may be doing social work in the eyes of the people, but we are really contemplatives[修行者、沉思冥想的人] in the heart of the world. For we are touching the body of Christ twenty-four hours…And I think that in our family we don’t need bombs and guns, to destroy, to bring peace, just get together, love one another, bring that peace, that joy, that strength of presence of each other in the home. And we will be able to overcome all the evil that is in the world.

And with this prize that I have received as a Prize of Peace, I am going to try to make the home for many people who have no home. Because I believe that love begins at home, and if we can create a home for the poor I think that more and more love will spread. And we will be able through this understanding love to bring peace be the good news to the poor. The poor in our own family first, in our country and in the world. To be able to do this, our Sisters, our lives have to be wove with prayer. They have to be woven with Christ to be able to understand, to be able to share. Because to be woven with Christ is to be able to understand, to be able to share. Because today there is so much suffering…When I pick up a person from the street, hungry, I give him a plate of rice, a piece of bread, I have satisfied. I have removed that hunger. But a person who is shut out, who feels unwanted, unloved, terrified, the person who has been thrown out from society-that poverty is so full of hurt and so unbearable…And so let us always meet each other with a smile, for the smile is the beginning of love, and once we begin to love each other naturally we want to do something.

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Water Pot --2

A water bearer in India had two large pots, each hung on each end of a pole which he carried across his neck. One of the pots had a crack in it, and while the other pot was perfect and always delivered a full portion of water at the end of the long walk from the stream to the master's house, the cracked pot arrived only half full.

For two years this went on daily, with the water bearer delivering one and one-half pots full of water to his masters house. Of course, the perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments, perfect to the end for which it was made. But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its own imperfection, and miserable that it was able to accomplish only half of what it had been made to do. After two years of what it had perceived to be bitter failure, it spoke one day to the water bearer by the stream.

"I am ashamed of myself, and I want to apologize to you."

"Why?" asked the bearer. "What are you ashamed of?"

"I have been able for these last two years to deliver only half my load, because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way back to your master's house. Because of my flaws, you have to do all this work, and you do not get full value for your efforts," the pot explained.

The water bearer felt sorry for the cracked pot, and in his compassion, he said, "As we return to the masters house, I want you to notice the beautiful flowers along the path." Indeed, as they went up the hill, the cracked pot took notice of the sun warming the beautiful wild flowers on the side of the path, and this cheered it some. But, at the end of the trail, it still felt bad because it had still leaked half of its load, and so again the pot apologized to the bearer for its failure. The bearer said to the pot: "Did you notice that there were flowers only on your side of the path, but not on the other pot's side? That is because I have always known about your flaw, and I took advantage of it. I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we walk back from the stream, you have watered them. For two years I have been able to pick those beautiful flowers to decorate my master's table. Without you being just the way you are, he would not have this beauty to grace his house."

Each of us has our own unique flaws. We are all cracked pots. But if we will allow it, the Lord will use our flaws to grace His Father's table. In God's great economy, nothing goes to waste. Don't be ashamed of your flaws.

Acknowledge them, and you too can be the cause of beauty. Know that in our weakness we find our strength.

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Water Pot --1

A water bearer in India had two large pots, each hung on each end of a pole which he carried across his neck. One of the pots had a crack in it, and while the other pot was perfect and always delivered a full portion of water at the end of the long walk from the stream to the master's house, the cracked pot arrived only half full.

For two years this went on daily, with the water bearer delivering one and one-half pots full of water to his masters house. Of course, the perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments, perfect to the end for which it was made. But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its own imperfection, and miserable that it was able to accomplish only half of what it had been made to do. After two years of what it had perceived to be bitter failure, it spoke one day to the water bearer by the stream.

"I am ashamed of myself, and I want to apologize to you."

"Why?" asked the bearer. "What are you ashamed of?"

"I have been able for these last two years to deliver only half my load, because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way back to your master's house. Because of my flaws, you have to do all this work, and you do not get full value for your efforts," the pot explained.

The water bearer felt sorry for the cracked pot, and in his compassion, he said, "As we return to the masters house, I want you to notice the beautiful flowers along the path." Indeed, as they went up the hill, the cracked pot took notice of the sun warming the beautiful wild flowers on the side of the path, and this cheered it some. But, at the end of the trail, it still felt bad because it had still leaked half of its load, and so again the pot apologized to the bearer for its failure. The bearer said to the pot: "Did you notice that there were flowers only on your side of the path, but not on the other pot's side? That is because I have always known about your flaw, and I took advantage of it. I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we walk back from the stream, you have watered them. For two years I have been able to pick those beautiful flowers to decorate my master's table. Without you being just the way you are, he would not have this beauty to grace his house."

Each of us has our own unique flaws. We are all cracked pots. But if we wll allow it, the Lord will use our flaws to grace His Father's table. In God's great economy, nothing goes to waste. Don't be ashamed of your flaws.

Acknowledge them, and you too can be the cause of beauty. Know that in our weakness we find our strength.

Note: Chinese-Online (http://www.chinesepal.cn/) is a place to Learn Chinese, and to find free Chinese Tutors to teach Chinese Lessons ,a place to learn mandarin! The fees is in the page(http://www.chinesepal.cn/class_type.html).The Site map of our site to learn Chinese language is the link(http://www.chinesepal.cn/sitemap.html).You can find something what you want to Learn Chinese Online! If you have interested Learn Mandarin Chinese Online ! Please click the link to study Chinese Language! Your Chinese Translation will begin to here! you can find Chinese characters, Chinese writing , Chinese dictionary and so on!

Three Peach Stones

Observe a child; any one will do. You will see that not a day passes in which he does not find something or other to make him happy, though he may be in tears the next moment. Then look at a man; any one of us will do. You will notice that weeks and months can pass in which day is greeted with nothing more than resignation1, and endure with every polite indifference. Indeed, most men are as miserable as sinners, though they are too bored to sin-perhaps their sin is their indifference2. But it is true that they so seldom smile that when they do we do not recognize their face, so distorted is it from the fixed mask we take for granted3. And even then a man can not smile like a child, for a child smiles with his eyes, whereas a man smiles with his lips alone. It is not a smile; but a grin; something to do with humor4, but little to do with happiness. And then, as anyone can see, there is a point (but who can define that point?) when a man becomes an old man, and then he will smile again.



It would seem that happiness is something to do with simplicity, and that it is the ability to extract pleasure form the simplest things-such as a peach stone, for instance.

It is obvious that it is nothing to do with success. For Sir Henry Stewart was certainly successful. It is twenty years ago since he came down to our village from London , and bought a couple of old cottages, which he had knocked into one. He used his house a s weekend refuge5. He was a barrister. And the village followed his brilliant career with something almost amounting to paternal pride.



I remember some ten years ago when he was made a King's Counsel6, Amos and I, seeing him get off the London train, went to congratulate him. We grinned with pleasure; he merely looked as miserable as though he'd received a penal sentence. It was the same when he was knighted; he never smiled a bit, he didn't even bother to celebrate with a round of drinks at the "Blue Fox"7. He took his success as a child does his medicine. And not one of his achievements brought even a ghost of a smile to his tired eyes.



I asked him one day, soon after he'd retired to potter about his garden,8 what is was like to achieve all one's ambitions. He looked down at his roses and went on watering them. Then he said "The only value in achieving one's ambition is that you then realize that they are not worth achieving." Quickly he moved the conversation on to a more practical level, and within a moment we were back to a safe discussion on the weather. That was two years ago.



I recall this incident, for yesterday, I was passing his house, and had drawn up my cart just outside his garden wall. I had pulled in from the road for no other reason than to let a bus pass me. As I set there filling my pipe, I suddenly heard a shout of sheer joy come from the other side of the wall.



I peered over. There stood Sir Henry doing nothing less than a tribal war dance9 of sheer unashamed ecstasy. Even when he observed my bewildered face staring over the wall he did not seem put out10 or embarrassed, but shouted for me to climb over.

"Come and see, Jan. Look! I have done it at last! I have done it at last!"

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There he was, holding a small box of earth in his had. I observed three tiny shoots out of it.



"And there were only three!" he said, his eyes laughing to heaven.



"Three what?" I asked.



"Peach stones", he replied. "I've always wanted to make peach stones grow, even since I was a child, when I used to take them home after a party, or as a man after a banquet. And I used to plant them, and then forgot where I planted them. But now at last I have done it, and, what's more, I had only three stones, and there you are, one, two, three shoots," he counted.



And Sir Henry ran off, calling for his wife to come and see his achievement-his achievement of simplicity.