奇书网>春天在我心里儿歌诵读 > 第10章 一撮黏土 1（第1页）
第10章 一撮黏土 1（第1页）
第10章一撮黏土（1）
AHandfulofClay
亨利·范·戴克HenryVanDyke
Therewasahandfulofthebankofariver。Itwasonlyonclay，dheavy；butithadhighthoughtsofitsownvalue，andwonderfuldreamsofthegreatplacewhichitwastof？illintheworldwheimecameforitsvirtuestobediscovered。
Overhead，inthespringsureeswhisperedtlorywhidedupohedelisaoexpand，aglowedthefair，clearcolors，asifthedustofthousandsofrubiesandemeraldswerehanging，insoftclouds，abovetheearth。
Thef？lowers，surprisedwiththejoyofbeauty，benttheirheadstoohewihem，andsaid，“Sisters，howlovelyyouhavebeakethedaybright。”
Theriver，gladthandrejoitheunisonofallitswaters，murmuredtotheshoresinmusigofitsreleasefromicyfetters，itsswiftf？lightfromthesnow-tains，ayashurryingthewheelsofmanymillstobeturned，ashipstobef？loatedtothesea。
Waitingblindlyiheforteditselfwithloftyhopes。“Mytimewille，”itsaid。“Iwasobehiddenfloryayandhtomeindueseason。”
&heclayfeltitselftakenfromtheplacewhereithadwaitedsolong。Af？latbladeofirohit，a，aoacartwithotherlumpsofditwascarriedfaraway，asitseemed，handstonyroad。Butitwasnotafraid，ned，foritsaidtoitself：“Thisishepathtogloryisalwaysrugged。NowIamonmylayagreatpartintheworld。”
Butthehardjourhing，paredwiththetribulationacameafterit。Theclayutinthandmixedairredaseemedalmostuherewassolatiothatsomethingveryf？ineaainlyingoutofallthistrouble。Theclayfeltsurethat，ifitlywaitlongenough，awonderfulrewardwasi。
&onaswiftlyturningwheel，andwhirledarounduntilitseemedasifitmustf？lyintoathousarangepowerpressedita，asitrevolved，andthroughallthedizzinessandpaiitwastakinganewform。
Thenanunknoutitintoanoven，andf？ireswerekiit，f？ieretratihasofsummerthathadeverbroodeduponthebankoftheriver。Butthroughall，theclayhelditselftogetherarials，intheceofagreatfuture。“Surely，”itthought，“Iamintendedforsomethingverysplendid，sincesusaretakenwithme。PerhapsIamfashioheoremple，orapreciousvaseforthetableofaking。”
Atlastthebakingwasf？iheclaywastakenfromthefurdownuponaboard，inthecoolair，uhebluesky。Thetribulationassed。Thereward>
&heboardthereoolofwater，notverydeep，norveryclear，butoughtoref？lect，withimpartialtruth，everyimagethatfeltupohef？irsttime，asitwasliftedfromtheboard，theclaysawitshereatiendpain，theationofitshopes—aoraightandstiff，redandugly。Athatitwasinedf’shouse，norforapalaceofart，becauseitwasmadewithoutgloryorbeautyorhonor；anditmurmuredagainsttheunkn，“Whyhastthoumademethus？”
Manydaysitpassediewasf？illedwithearth，akwhat—butshandbrownanddead-looking，wasthrustintothemiddleoftheearthaheclayrebelledatthisnewdisgrace。“Thisistheworstofallthathashappeobef？illedwithdirtandrubbish。SurelyIamafailure。”
