My father was a self-taught mandolin player. He was one of the best string instrument players in our town. He could not read music, but if he heard a tune a few times, he could play it. When he was younger, he was a member of a small country music band. They would play at local dances and on a few occasions would play for the local radio station. He often told us how he had auditioned and earned a position in a band that featured Patsy Cline as their lead singer. He told the family that after he was hired he never went back. Dad was a very religious man. He stated that there was a lot of drinking and cursing the day of his audition and he did not want to be around that type of environment.
Occasionally, Dad would get out his mandolin and play for the family. We three children: Trisha, Monte and I, George Jr., would often sing along. Songs such as the Tennessee Waltz, Harbor Lights and around Christmas time, the well-known rendition of Silver Bells. "Silver Bells, Silver Bells, its Christmas time in the city" would ring throughout the house. One of Dad's favorite hymns was "The Old Rugged Cross". We learned the words to the hymn when we were very young, and would sing it with Dad when he would play and sing. Another song that was often shared in our house was a song that accompanied the Walt Disney series: Davey Crockett. Dad only had to hear the song twice before he learned it well enough to play it. "Davey, Davey Crockett, King of the Wild Frontier" was a favorite song for the family. He knew we enjoyed the song and the program and would often get out the mandolin after the program was over. I could never get over how he could play the songs so well after only hearing them a few times. I loved to sing, but I never learned how to play the mandolin. This is something I regret to this day.
Dad loved to play the mandolin for his family he knew we enjoyed singing, and hearing him play. He was like that. If he could give pleasure to others, he would, especially his family. He was always there, sacrificing his time and efforts to see that his family had enough in their life. I had to mature into a man and have children of my own before I realized how much he had sacrificed.
I joined the United States Air Force in January of 1962. Whenever I would come home on leave, I would ask Dad to play the mandolin. Nobody played the mandolin like my father. He could touch your soul with the tones that came out of that old mandolin. He seemed to shine when he was playing. You could see his pride in his ability to play so well for his family.
When Dad was younger, he worked for his father on the farm. His father was a farmer and sharecropped a farm for the man who owned the property. In 1950, our family moved from the farm. Dad had gained employment at the local limestone quarry. When the quarry closed in August of 1957, he had to seek other employment. He worked for Owens Yacht Company in Dundalk, Maryland and for Todd Steel in Point of Rocks, Maryland. While working at Todd Steel, he was involved in an accident. His job was to roll angle iron onto a conveyor so that the welders farther up the production line would have it to complete their job. On this particular day Dad got the third index finger of his left hand mashed between two pieces of steel. The doctor who operated on the finger could not save it, and Dad ended up having the tip of the finger amputated. He didn't lose enough of the finger where it would stop him picking up anything, but it did impact his ability to play the mandolin.
After the accident, Dad was reluctant to play the mandolin. He felt that he could not play as well as he had before the accident. When I came home on leave and asked him to play he would make excuses for why he couldn't play. Eventually, we would wear him down and he would say "Okay, but remember, I can't hold down on the strings the way I used to" or "Since the accident to this finger I can't play as good". For the family it didn't make any difference that Dad couldn't play as well. We were just glad that he would play. When he played the old mandolin it would carry us back to a cheerful, happier time in our lives. "Davey, Davey Crockett, King of the Wild Frontier", would again be heard in the little town of Bakerton, West Virginia.
In August of 1993 my father was diagnosed with inoperable lung cancer. He chose not to receive chemotherapy treatments so that he could live out the rest of his life in dignity. About a week before his death, we asked Dad if he would play the mandolin for us. He made excuses but said "okay". He knew it would probably be the last time he would play for us. He tuned up the old mandolin and played a few notes. When I looked around, there was not a dry eye in the family. We saw before us a quiet humble man with an inner strength that comes from knowing God, and living with him in one's life. Dad would never play the mandolin for us again. We felt at the time that he wouldn't have enough strength to play, and that makes the memory of that day even stronger. Dad was doing something he had done all his life, giving. As sick as he was, he was still pleasing others. Dad sure could play that Mandolin!
I will persist until I succeed. 坚持不懈。直到成功。
In the Orient young bulls are tested for the fight arena in a certain manner. Each is brought to the ring and allowed to attack a picador who pricks them with a lance. The bravery of each bull is then rated with care according to the number of times he demonstrates his willingness to charge in spite of the sting of the blade. Henceforth will I recognize that each day I am tested by life in like manner. If I persist, if I continue to try, if I continue to charge forward, I will succeed.
Things do not change; we change. Sell your clothes and keep your thoughts.
Think it over……好好想想……
Today we have higher buildings and wider highways, but shorter temperaments and narrower points of view;
We spend more, but enjoy less;
We have bigger houses, but smaller families;
We have more compromises, but less time;
We have more knowledge, but less judgment;
We have more medicines ,but less health;
We have multiplied out possessions, but reduced out values;
We talk much, we love only a little, and we hate too much;
We reached the moon and came back, but we find it troublesome to cross our own street and meet our neighbors;
We have conquered the outer space, but not our inner space;
We have higher income, but less morals;
These are times with more liberty, but less joy;
We have much more food, but less nutrition;
These are the days in which it takes two salaries for each home, but divorces increase;
These are times of finer houses, but more broken homes;
That‘s why I propose, that as of today;
You do not keep anything for a special occasion. because every day that you live is a special occasion.
Search for knowledge, read more ,sit on your porch and admire the view without paying attention to your needs;
Spend more time with your family and friends, eat your favorite foods, visit the places you love;
Life is a chain of moments of enjoyment; not only about survival;
Use your crystal goblets. do not save your best perfume, and use it every time you feel you want it.
Remove from your vocabulary phrases like "one of these days" or "someday";
Let‘s write that letter we thought of writing "one of these days"!
Let‘s tell our families and friends how much we love them;
Do not delay anything that adds laughter and joy to your life;
Every day, every hour, and every minute is special;
And you don't know if it will be your last.
The day that you see me old and I am already not, have patience and try to understand me …
If I get dirty when eating… if I cannot dress… have patience.
Remember the hours I spent teaching it to you.
If, when I speak to you, I repeat the same things thousand and one
times… do not interrupt me… listen to me
When you were small, I had to read to you thousand and one times the same story until you get to sleep… When I do not want to have a shower, neither shame me nor scold me…
Remember when I had to chase you with thousand excuses I invented, in order that you wanted to bath…When you see my on new technologies… give me the necessary time and not look at me with your mocking smile…
I taught you how to do so many things… to eat well, to dress well… to confront life…
When at some moment I lose the memory or the thread of our conversation… let me have the necessary time to remember… and if I cannot do it;do not become nervous… as the most important thing is not my conversation but surely to be with you and to have you listening to me…
If ever I do not want to eat, do not force me. I know well when I need to and when not.
When my tired legs do not allow me walk… give me your hand… the same way I did when you gave your first steps.
And when someday I say to you that I do not want to live any more…
that I want to die… do not get angry… some day you will understand…
Try to understand that my age is not lived but survived.
Some day you will discover that, despite my mistakes, I always wanted
the best thing for you and that I tried to prepare the way for you.
You must not feel sad, angry or impotent for seeing me near you. You must be next to me, try to understand me and to help me as I did it when you started living. Help me to walk… help me to end my way with love and patience. I will
pay you by a smile and by the immense love I have had always for you.
I love you son…
A man may usually be known by the books he reads as well as by the company he keeps; for there is a companionship of books as well as of men; and one should always live in the best company, whether it be of books or of men.
A good book may be among the best of friends. It is the same today that it always was, and it will never change. It is the most patient and cheerful of companions. It does not turn its back upon us in times of adversity or distress. It always receives us with the same kindness; amusing and instructing us in youth, and comforting and consoling us in age.
Men often discover their affinity to each other by the mutual love they have for a book just as two persons sometimes discover a friend by the admiration which both entertain for a third. There is an old proverb, ‘Love me, love my dog.” But there is more wisdom in this:” Love me, love my book.” The book is a truer and higher bond of union. Men can think, feel, and sympathize with each other through their favorite author. They live in him together, and he in them.
A good book is often the best urn of a life enshrining the best that life could think out; for the world of a man’s life is, for the most part, but the world of his thoughts. Thus the best books are treasuries of good words, the golden thoughts, which, remembered and cherished, become our constant companions and comforters.
Books possess an essence of immortality. They are by far the most lasting products of human effort. Temples and statues decay, but books survive. Time is of no account with great thoughts, which are as fresh today as when they first passed through their author’s minds, ages ago. What was then said and thought still speaks to us as vividly as ever from the printed page. The only effect of time have been to sift out the bad products; for nothing in literature can long survive e but what is really good.
Books introduce us into the best society; they bring us into the presence of the greatest minds that have ever lived. We hear what they said and did; we see the as if they were really alive; we sympathize with them, enjoy with them, grieve with them; their experience becomes ours, and we feel as if we were in a measure actors with them in the scenes which they describe.
The great and good do not die, even in this world. Embalmed in books, their spirits walk abroad. The book is a living voice. It is an intellect to which on still listens.
★ 英语经典句子 英语励志句子