nd say； “How about a cup of tea before you go to bed； hey Benjin the Engine？” I used to hate the way he would call me that instead of my real name Benjamin； but now thinking back he wasn’t just trying to make me irritated；he was just expressing his love the way he expresses it。 电子书 分享网站
谁是最爱你的人（2）
On Saturday or Sunday； my Dad’s only rest days； he would e up to me and say； “How about a game of cricket？”“Yes； dad； that will be great。 ” I would reply happily。 On the days that he was too tired to play he would say； “Yeah sure； I’ll play。 ”My Momwould e and call me to the side and explain that my dad was just too tired to play； but he could not say no to me。 He always had and has time for me。
As time flew by； I started to bee a teenager； and with ateenager e independence and what seemed to me as a childish game over food became a stupid idea。 He would e into my room and say； “How about a milo before you go to bed？” he would say。 “Thanks but no thanks。” I would reply angrily； not thinking about the thought behind his actions。
Thinking back I realized I was a bit tough with him。 He didn’t want to make me upset； he was just expressing his love the way he expresses it。 When I was sick in hospital recently for depression； he would e after a hard day’s work at about 7 o’clock and stay up to three hours with me； leaving at about 10 o’clock to go home for dinner。“Please dad； I love it when you stay with me but I know you need your sleep；” I would say encouragingly。 “Don’t worry about it。 ” he would say happily。 On the days he didn’t work； he would e and spend the whole day with me。 “Give dad a smile。 ” he would say encouragingly。 “Dad； at the moment I can’t smile。 ” I would say。 “Please just one smile and then I won’t ask again。 ” He would say playfully。 After that I couldn’t help smiling。
I wrote this to thank the entire fathers out there； but I especially wrote this to thank my dad。 The one who would make me food late at night when I was too tired to do so or unable to do。 The one who would sit by my bed in my time of greatest need。 The one who he couldn’t say no to his son。 The one who would call me “Benjin the Engine。 ”
我之所以教书（1）
惠特尼·L。 葛拉德
我很了解我的学生们。在我们乡村中学里，每天都会有一群七年级的学生，背着双肩背包，沿着走廊的瓷砖地板一边嚷嚷，一边慢悠悠地从一间教室走到另一间教室。我站在教室门口看着他们，就像一个将军在阅兵似的。我为能叫出他们每一个人的名字而感到高兴。
我知道他们的秘密以及他们的故事。多拉是一个懒散而害羞的女孩，我知道这是因为她在家的时候不愿太惹人注意，以免因闯祸而遭到继父的殴打。杰伊可以像一个十年级的学生那样投掷棒球，当他顶着一头金黄色的头发大摇大摆地走过时，所有女孩都欣喜若狂，但是我知道他对棒球根本没兴趣，只是不敢违抗父命而已，与女孩子出去约会也会让他感到害怕。孩子们都认为基思只是班上的小丑，但是我知道他梦想能成为一个宇航员，所以我把他推荐给了一个太空夏令营。我了解我的学生们，因为我是他们的写作老师。他们信任我，并告诉了我他们的故事，所以我有了与他们每一个人分享秘密的特权。
我教给我的学生们文字的力量，尝试着让他们通过写作来释放自己，表达自己。在写作课上，我们学着相互信任，因为我们知道公开而诚实地写作是多么困难，我们学着鼓足勇气来分享我们的语言。在教室里，我们每天都可以看到勇气，我总会为学生们的心里话而感到震惊。
一个有关勇气的例子发生在“作家工作室”中的一个自愿分享作品的环节中。学校里来了一个名叫阿尔的新学生，他很瘦小，一张娃娃脸上还有两个小酒窝，这让他看起来比其他同学都小。
事实上，当阿尔在两周前第一次来到班上时，一个同学就说：“你不该在七年级，你还是个孩子呢！”
阿尔立即回答道：“我叫阿尔·比尔史灵顿，我上七年级。”
尽管他的勇气可嘉，可毕竟刚来到我们中间，仍然处于适应阶段。所以，当他自愿要在“作家工作室”上朗读自己的作文时，我感到很惊讶。像往常一样，我笑着点头示意他开始朗读，心里也在为他默默地祈祷，希望其他同学不要在他朗读之后取笑他。教室陷入了沉寂，阿尔开始朗读了。
“如果说我有一个愿望，那就是可以见到爸爸……”他的声音洪亮而清晰，在他朗读的大约15分钟里，他引起了我那些通常不安分的七年级学生的注意。他讲述了自己从未见过父亲的原因：当他还是个小孩时，父亲就离开了家。他和大家分享了一些他的秘密，他如此小的年龄就要为成为家里唯一的男子汉而努力，割草、修理损坏的下水道。他投给我们一种思想：他的脑海里满是他的父亲在哪里，以及他为什么离开的疑问。
我环顾教室四周，寻找着班级里窃笑的面孔，我知道这些学生喜欢取笑别人，但是此时没有一个窃笑者。没有四处张望，没有不耐烦的表情，也没有要攻击的架势。同学们都在听着，确实在听。他们都望着阿尔，像海绵吸水一样倾听着他的话语。我感到很满足。
阿尔继续朗读着，叙述着他的梦魇，叙述他自己从未感觉到做一个男子汉对自己是如此重要，可这离自己又太遥远了。当他朗读着如此深情而真诚的话语时，我可以听出他的声音在颤抖，我看到他那有着两个酒窝的脸颊上淌下了一滴泪珠。我看了一下观众，杰西卡和其他几个少数静静倾听的同学也是泪眼朦胧。
我想，他们允许他这样做，允许他分享一些或许他从来没有与别人分享过的东西，而且他们没有歧视或取笑他，我哽咽了。
在结尾的时候，阿尔竭力朗读着最后一句话：“如果说我有一个愿望的话，那就是能见到我的爸爸，这样我就不会……”他的泪水已经决堤了，我们也是。“……这样我就不会每天晚上躺在床上想象他的样子了。”
我之所以教书（2）
在我没有作出任何暗示的情况下，全体同学起立为他鼓掌。当大家纷纷跑上前去拥抱他的时候，阿尔笑了。
这就是我之所以教书的原因。之所以教书，是因为我可以在那些面孔下面了解到一些故事；是因为我可以看着孩子们成长、欢笑、学习和友爱；更是因为那些像阿尔一样的学生们。
Why I Teach
Whitney L。 Grady
I know my students。 Masses of awkward seventh graders swarm the halls of my rural middle school each day； hauling backpacks over one shoulder； talking and shuffling along the tile hallway floor from class to class。 I watch them like a general from my post（my classroom door） and smile at the fact that I can call each one by name。
I know their secrets； their stories。 Dora slouches1 and is shy； and I know it is because she spends all her time at home trying not to get noticed； so she won’t feel the brunt of her stepfather’s angry hand。 Jay can pitch like a tenth grader； and all the girls swoon2 when he and his blond hair strut by； but I know he doesn’t really even like baseball that much （he plays because his dad wants him to） and he is too scared to ask out the girl he likes。 The kids think Keith is just the class clown； but I know of his dreams to bee an astronaut（and I’ve remended him for space camp）。 I know my students because I am their writing teacher。 They trust me with their stories and so I am given the privilege3 of having a secret bond with each and every one of them。
I teach my students about the power of words； and I try to let them find release and expression through writing。 We learn to trust each other in writing class because we learn how hard it is to write openly and honestly； and we learn that sharing your words takes courage。 I see courage every day in my classroom； and I am always amazed at the words that e from my students’ hearts。
One such example of courage took place during author’s chair； a sharing session at the end of our writer’s workshop in which students volunteer to share what they have written。 We had a new student to the school； Al。 Al was small and； with his dimpled cheeks and baby face； he looked younger than his classmates。
In fact； when Al was first introduced