励志双语散文阅读

　　在散文的短小篇幅中,虽然没有像小说一样复杂的故事情节和细致的人物刻画,也没有像戏剧一样大起大落的矛盾冲突,但散文凭借精巧的谋篇布局,巧妙的措辞选景,来渲染气氛,创造意境,从而体现出它独特的风格。下面学习啦小编为大家带来励志双语散文阅读，欢迎大家阅读!

　　励志双语散文：天使的照片

　　Golden sunlight danced in the treetops, and children's laughter filled the park. The smell of popcorn played on the breeze, and life seemed good. It was one of the happiest Saturday mornings I had spent with my little daughter, Gigi.

　　That is, until two strangers threw her into their car and sped away. It seemed like a bad dream. I could barely whisper when the police questioned me. For hours we waited, but there was no word on the whereabouts of the car. Tears would start to come. Then nothing. I was numb with fear.

　　"Go home, Ma'am," the sergeant said. "I'll have an officer drive you. We'll also want to monitor your telephone. The kidnappers might call, and we'll want to get a trace. Trust me, these guys can't get far." After what had just happened, it was hard for me to trust anything.

　　My friend Gloria came over that afternoon. "I heard about Gigi on the radio," she said. "Everyone is looking for the car. The interstates are all blocked." She took my hand.

　　"Look here," Gloria said. "I want you have this picture, and I want you to pray with me."

　　It was a picture of a little girl sound asleep in her bed. Standing by the bed was a tall, blond angel. His hand was touching the girl's shoulder as he smiled down at her.

　　My nerves were frazzled. "You know I don't believe in that kind of thing!" I snapped. "I'm too exhausted for any hocus-pocus right now, Gloria! I want my daughter home!" I started to shake, and then I began sobbing.

　　Gloria placed the photo on our mantle and knelt down beside me. "Just pray with me," she said, holding my hand.

　　I had no strength left, so we prayed and waited what seemed an eternity. Together, we waited by the phone until sundown. The phone never rang.

　　Suddenly, the front door swung open. I looked up and screamed.

　　There stood Gigi. "Gigi! Thank God!" I cried, throwing my arms around her. "Where did those men take you? How did you get home? Did the police find you?"

　　"No Mommy!" said Gigi. "I was real scared because those men said they were taking me far away. We were going real fast on an old rock road I'd never seen before. But then a tall man walked out in front of the car, and they ran off the road and hit a tree.

　　Then the tall man ran up and opened the car door and pulled me out. He was real nice, and said I would be okay now, and that those men couldn't hurt me. I must have gone to sleep, because then I woke up here in front of our house. He must have brought me home."

　　"But who … how did he know … where to bring you?" My voice broke and trailed to a whisper.

　　"I don't know, Mommy," Gigi said. "But he was real friendly, and I wasn't scared of him at all."

　　Just then Gigi noticed Gloria's picture on the mantle. "That's him!" She squealed, pointing at the picture. "Mommy, the tall blond man dressed like an angel. That's the man that pulled me out of the car!"

　　I felt chill-bumps across my neck and arms. Gloria turned pale. "Are you sure that's the man?" Gloria asked.

　　"Yeah, that's him okay. Except he didn't have wings, and he was wearing blue jeans and a tee shirt. But that's him exactly. I'd remember him anywhere!"

　　Later that night, the police found the injured kidnappers in their wrecked car fifty miles from our home. When questioned, the driver remembered swerving to avoid hitting a tall blond man. The backseat door that Gigi sat by had been completely torn off its hinges.

　　Twenty years have gone by. We have never heard from anyone claiming to have rescued Gigi. There have been no logical explanations for Gigi's miraculous escape and return home from a wreck so far away.

　　There have always been things that people can't explain. But, from that day forward, I've never doubted that many of those things are divine miracles. I believe that all experiences, positive and negative, are given to us for our strengthening and learning.

　　Gigi now takes her little girl to the park on Saturdays. They enjoy the sunlight as it dances in the treetops, the smell of popcorn, and the laughter of children. She keeps Gloria's picture on her mantle, and she re- members her angelic friend. And, like my daughter, I have a faith that has carried me through many trials since that day many years ago.

　　金色的阳光在树梢上舞蹈，公园中充满了孩子们的欢笑，微风中飘荡着爆米花的味道。生活看起来是如此的美好。这是我和我的小女儿Gigi所度过的一个最幸福的周六上午。

　　然而，当两个陌生人把她抓进汽车里飞快地离开了后，一切便结束了。那就像个噩梦一样。当警察问我的时候，我几乎说不出一句话了。我等了几个小时，但就没有车开向哪里的消息。我欲哭无泪，心中充满了恐慌。

　　“回家吧，女士，” 警官说。“我会派一位警官开车送你的。我们想监控你的电话，绑架者可能会打电话的，我们想掌握一些线索。相信我，那些家伙不可能跑远的。” 经历过刚才的事情，我已经很难相信任何东西了。

　　那天下午，我的朋友Gloria过来了。“我在广播上听到Gigi的消息的，”她说。“每个人都在寻找那辆车，所有的州公路也都封锁了。” 她握着我的手。

　　“看这，”Gloria说。“我想你有这张照片，我想要你和我一起祈祷。”

　　这是一张小女孩的照片，她正在床上熟睡。站在床旁边的是一位身材高挑的，头发金黄的天使。天使微笑着望着小女孩，手放在她的肩膀上。

　　我的神经一下崩溃了。“你知道我是不相信那种事的!”我声音严厉地说。“我现在没有任何幻想了，Gloria!我想要我的女儿回家!”我开始颤抖，接着是抽噎。

　　Gloria把照片放在了我的披风上，跪在我的旁边。“和我一起祈祷，”她握着我手说。

　　我没有力气挣脱，只好与她一起祈祷，但是，等待确实那么漫长。我们在一起在电话机旁等到太阳落山，可电话也没有响。

　　突然，前门开了，我抬头一望尖叫了起来。

　　是Gigi站在那儿，“Gigi!感谢上帝!”我跑去拥抱着她喊道。“那些男人把你带到哪里去了?你是怎么回家的?是警察找到你的吗?”

　　“不是，妈妈!” Gigi说。“那些人说要把我带到很远的地方，我真的很害怕。我们在一条旧的岩石路上开得非常快，但是之后，有个高个男人在车的前面走出来，那些人就赶快逃开撞到一棵树上了。

　　后来，那个高个子的男人跑上来，打开车门把我从车里拉出来。他人非常好，并且说我现在没事了，那些人不会再伤害我了。我想我当时一定是睡着了，因为后来我在我们房子前面醒来了。他一定是把我带到家了。

　　“但是……他怎么知道……把你带到哪里去呢?” 我的嗓子哑了，只能小声地说。

　　“我不知道，妈妈，”Gigi说。“但是他确实非常友善，我都根本不怕他。”

　　正在这时，Gigi注意到了披风上Gloria的照片，“就是他!”她指着那张照片尖叫道。“妈妈，那个高个子的金头男人穿的衣服就和这位天使一样，就是他把我从车里拉出来的!”

　　我感到在我的脖子和手臂上有寒气袭来。Gloria脸色苍白地说：“你确定是那个人?”

　　“是的，就是他。只不过他没有翅膀，他穿的是蓝色的牛仔裤和体恤。但绝对就是他，无论如何我都会记住他的!”

　　那天晚上，警察在离我们家约50英里远的地方发现他们的汽车残骸和受伤的绑匪。在审讯的时候，开车的绑匪说当时转向是为了想避开一个高个子的金发男人。Gigi坐在后座上，后座的车门已经完全被撕了下来。

　　20年已经过去了，从来没有人宣布曾经救过Gigi。没有任何逻辑能够解释Gigi神奇逃脱并从离家那么远的残骸回家的原因了。

　　世上总有一些人们无法解释的事情，但是，自从那天之后，我便深信那些事是神旨的功劳。我相信所有的经历，乐观的也好，悲观的也好，这些都给了我们力量和教导。

　　Gigi现在每个周六都会带她的小女儿去公园玩，享受生活的欢乐。阳光在树梢上舞蹈，爆米花的香味，孩子们的笑声。她把Gloria的照片放在披风上，她怀念她的天使朋友。像我的女儿一样，从那之后，这种信念也一直帮我克服诸多困难。

　　励志双语散文：白色的信封

　　It’s just a small, white envelope stuck among the branches of our Christmas tree. No name, no identification, no inscription. It has peeked through the branches of our tree for the past 10 years or so.

　　It all began because my husband Mike hated Christmas — oh, not the true meaning of Christmas, but the commercial aspects of it — overspending the frantic running around at the last minute to get a tie for Uncle Harry and the dusting powder for Grandma — the gifts given in desperation because you couldn’t think of anything else.

　　Knowing he felt this way, I decided one year to bypass the usual shirts, sweaters, ties and so forth. I reached for something special just for Mike. The inspiration came in an unusual way.

　　Our son Kevin, who was 12 that year, was wrestling at the junior level at the school he attended; and shortly before Christmas, there was a non-league match against a team sponsored by an inner-city church. These youngsters, dressed in sneakers so ragged that shoestrings seemed to be the only thing holding them together, presented a sharp contrast to our boys in their spiffy blue and gold uniforms and sparkling new wrestling shoes.

　　As the match began, I was alarmed to see that the other team was wrestling without headgear, a kind of light helmet designed to protect a wrestler’s ears. It was a luxury the ragtag team obviously could not afford. Well, we ended up walloping them. We took every weight class. And as each of their boys got up from the mat, he swaggered around in his tatters with false bravado, a kind of street pride that couldn’t acknowledge defeat.

　　Mike, seated beside me, shook his head sadly, “I wish just one of them could have won,” he said. “They have a lot of potential, but losing like this could take the heart right out of them.”

　　Mike loved kids — all kids — and he knew them, having coached little league football, baseball and lacrosse. That’s when the idea for his present came. That afternoon, I went to a local sporting goods store and bought an assortment of wrestling headgear and shoes and sent the anonymously to the inner-city church.

　　On Christmas Eve, I placed the envelope on the tree, the note inside telling Mike what I had done and that this was his gift from me. His smile was the brightest thing about Christmas that year and in succeeding years.

　　For each Christmas, I followed the tradition — one year sending a group of mentally handicapped youngsters to a hockey game, another year a check to a pair of elderly brothers whose home had burned to the ground the week before Christmas, and on and on.

　　The envelope became the highlight of our Christmas. It was always the last thing opened on Christmas morning and our children, ignoring their new toys, would stand with wide-eyed anticipation as their dad lifted the envelope from the tree to reveal its contents.

　　As the children grew, the toys gave way to more practical presents, but the envelope never lost its allure. The story doesn’t end there. You see, we lost Mike last year due to dreaded cancer. When Christmas rolled around, I was still so wrapped in grief that I barely got the tree up. But Christmas Eve found me placing an envelope on the tree, and in the morning, it was joined by three more.

　　Each of our children, unbeknownst to the others, had placed an envelope on the tree for their dad. The tradition has grown and someday will expand even further with our grandchildren standing around the tree with wide-eyed anticipation watching as their fathers take down the envelope. Mike’s spirit, like the Christmas spirit, will always be with us.

　　May we all remember the reason for the season, and the true Christmas spirit this year and always. God bless — pass this along to your friends and loved ones.

　　Happy Holidays!

　　December is one of my favorite months as it’s the month of lights, and the month of giving, and thanking. I received this mail from my friend Debra this evening, and wanted to share it. I really think it touches all of us in many ways. As it is said you can never give or receive too many mizvot (in Jewish it’s the act of giving) Maybe it could be your “WHITE ENVELOPE”.

　　卡在圣诞树枝上的只是一个很小的白色信封，没有姓名，没有身份，也没有留言。这封放在树枝上的信已经有10多年历史了。

　　事情的开始是由于丈夫迈克不喜欢圣诞节——哦，并不是真指圣诞节，而是它的商业化——超支了……为了给哈利叔叔买领带，给奶奶买爽身粉，他在圣诞来临之际跑这跑那——只能送这些礼物，因为根本也想不出别的东西。

　　有一年，我知道他也这么想，就决定不再像以往那样买衬衫、毛衣、领带之类的东西。我灵感突现，想为迈克准备一个特殊的礼物。

　　那年，儿子凯文12岁，正在学校里练习初级摔跤。就在圣诞节前，他们有一项非组织性的比赛要举行，他们的对手由市里一家教堂赞助。那些少年穿的运动鞋破旧不堪，好像脚上就剩下鞋带了。我们这边的孩子一律身着金蓝色的衣服和崭新的摔跤鞋，着装与和他们形成鲜明的对比。

　　比赛开始后，有人叫我去看看对方的情形，他们没有戴那种旨在保护摔跤选手耳朵的浅色护头。对他们这样的队伍来说那太奢侈了，很明显他们买不起。因此，最终我们队给了他们猛烈的打击，并且也打败了所有的举重班。那些男孩从垫子上站起来时，还故意穿着破旧的衣服，虚张声势地走来走去，带着一种不承认失败的街头傲慢。

　　迈克坐在我旁边，悲伤地摇着头，说：“我真希望他们能有人赢我们，他们很有潜力，但输得这么惨可能会使他们失去信心。”

　　迈克之所以会有这样的想法，是因为他喜欢小孩——所有的小孩他都喜欢——他了解他们，他曾经担任过一些小团队的教练，如：足球队、垒球队和长曲棍球队。一天下午，我去附近的一家体育用品店买了一套摔跤护头和鞋子，并匿名把东西送给市里的教堂。

　　圣诞节前夕，我把信封放在了圣诞树上，信的内容是告诉迈克我所做的事，就是我送给他的礼物。那年和接下来几年的圣诞节，他的笑容是最灿烂的事了。

　　每年圣诞节，我都遵循这样一个传统——有一年是让一些残障少年参加曲棍球比赛，还有一年是看望了两位老年兄弟，他们的房屋在圣诞节前被大火烧为平地，等等。

　　信封成为我们过圣诞节时最重要的事。圣诞节那天早上，信封总是最后一个被拆开 。孩子们也不顾他们的新玩具了，眼睛睁得大大的，站着那里等期待着爸爸把信封从圣诞树上摘下来，把里面的内容读给他们听。

　　孩子们长大后，他们都要有用的礼物而不再要玩具了，不过，信封的吸引力依然没变。故事并没有在此结束，去年迈克患上可怕的癌症离开我们了。圣诞节来临的时候，我们还沉浸在悲伤中，甚至都没有装饰圣诞树。在圣诞前夕，我在树上放了一封信，到了早上，信却变成了三封。

　　我们的每个孩子，都趁大家不注意的时候，在圣诞树上放了一封写给爸爸的信。这个惯例一直延续着，有一天我们的孙子也会站在圣诞树旁，眼睛睁得大大的，望着他们的爸爸取下信封。迈克的灵魂，就像圣诞节的精神一样，永远在我们身边。

　　愿我们都能牢记过这个节日的原因，永远记住真正的圣诞节精神。愿上帝保佑我们——把这篇文章也送给你的朋友和所爱的人。

　　节日快乐!

　　12月是我最喜欢的月份，因为它是快乐的月份，是给予和感恩的月份。这是我的朋友德布拉今晚发给我的邮件，想和大家一起分享。我确实认为它在很多方面都打动了我们，信上说你给予或者接受给予再多也不过分，或许它就是你的“白色信封”。