小故事大智慧·感动心灵的英文哲理故事
一滴水蕴藏着浩瀚的大海，一个小故事孕育着博大的智慧。愿感动心灵的英文哲理故事的每一篇故事似涓涓细流，在你心田缓缓流淌，渗透在生命的每个脚步中，使你获得心灵的洗礼，在品味中得到智慧启迪与愉悦感悟。为此阳光网小编为大家推荐了小故事大智慧·感动心灵的英文哲理故事，希望对大家有用。
小故事大智慧·感动心灵的英文哲理故事篇一
Love Notes
From the time each of my children started school, I packed their lunches. And in each lunch I packed, I included a note. Often written on a napkin, the note might be a thank you for a special moment, a reminder of something we were happily anticipating, or a bit of encouragement for an upcoming test or sporting event.
In early grade school they loved their notes-they commented on them after school, and when I went back to teaching, they even put notes in my lunches. But as kids grow older they become self?conscious, and by the time he reached high school, my older son, Marc, informed me he no longer needed my daily missives. Informing him that they had been written as much for me as for him, and that he no longer needed to read them but I still needed to write them, I continued the tradition until the day he graduated.
Six years after high school graduation, Marc called and asked if he could move home for a couple of months. He had spent those years well, graduating Phi Beta Kappa magna cum laude from college, completing two congressional internships in Washington, D.C., winning the Jesse Marvin Unruh Fellowship to the California State Legislature, and finally, becoming a legislative assistant in Sacramento. Other than short vacation visits, however, he had lived away from home. With his younger sister leaving for college, I was especially thrilled to have Marc coming home.
A couple weeks after Marc arrived home to rest, regroup and write for a while, he was back at work-he had been recruited to do campaign work. Since I was still making lunch every day for his younger brother, I packed one for Marc, too. Imagine my surprise when I got a call from my 24?year?old son, complaining about his lunch.
"Did I do something wrong? Aren't I still your kid? Don't you love me any more, Mom?" were just a few of the queries he threw at me as I laughingly asked him what was wrong.
"My note, Mom," he answered. "Where's my note?"
This year my youngest son will be a senior in high school. He, too, has now announced that he is too old for notes. But like his older brother and sister before him, he will receive those notes till the day he graduates-and in whatever lunches I pack for him afterwards.
小故事大智慧·感动心灵的英文哲理故事篇二
祈祷之手 The Praying Hands
The true story behind a well-known piece of art:
德国艺术大师Albrecht Durer有一幅名画“祈祷之手”，这幅画的背后有一则爱与牺牲的故事。
Back in the fifteenth century, in a tiny village near Nuremberg, lived a family with eighteen children. Eighteen! In order merely to keep food on the table for this mob, the father and head of the household, a goldsmith by profession, worked almost eighteen hours a day at his trade and any other paying chore he could find in the neighborhood. Despite their seemingly hopeless condition, two of Albrecht Durer the Elder's children had a dream. They both wanted to pursue their talent for art, but they knew full well that their father would never be financially able to send either of them to Nuremberg to study at the Academy.
十五世纪时，在德国的一个小村庄里，住了一个有十八个孩子的家庭。父亲是一名冶金匠，为了维持一家生计，他每天工作十八个小时。
生活尽管窘迫逼人，然而这个家庭其中两个孩子却有一个同样的梦想。他们两人都希望可以发展自己在艺术方面的天份。不过他们也了解，父亲无法在经济上供他们俩到纽伦堡艺术学院读书。
After many long discussions at night in their crowded bed, the two boys finally worked out a pact. They would toss a coin. The loser would go down into the nearby mines and, with his earnings, support his brother while he attended the academy. Then, when that brother who won the toss completed his studies, in four years, he would support the other brother at the academy, either with sales of his artwork or, if necessary, also by laboring the mines.
晚上，两兄弟在床上经过多次讨论后，得出结论：以掷铜板决定──胜者到艺术学院读书，败者则到附近的矿场工作赚钱;四年后，在矿场工作的那一个再到艺术学院读书，由学成毕业那一个赚钱支持。如果需要，可能也要到矿场工作。
They tossed a coin on a Sunday morning after church. Albrecht Durer won the toss and went off to Nuremberg. Albert went down into the dangerous mines and, for the next four years, financed his brother, whose work at the academy was almost an immediate sensation. Albrecht's etchings, his woodcuts, and his oils were far better than those of most of his professors, and by the time he graduated, he was beginning to earn considerable fees for his commissioned works.
星期日早上做完礼拜，他们掷了铜板，结果，弟弟Albrecht Durer胜出，去了纽伦堡艺术学院。哥哥Albert则去了危险的矿场工作，四年来一直为弟弟提供经济支持。Albrecht在艺术学院表现很突出，他的油画简直比教授的还要好。到毕业时，他的作品已经能赚不少钱了。
When the young artist returned to his village, the Durer family held a festive dinner on their lawn to celebrate Albrecht's triumphant homecoming. After a long and memorable meal, punctuated with music and laughter, Albrecht rose from his honored position at the head of the table to drink a toast to his beloved brother for the years of sacrifice that had enabled Albrecht to fulfill his ambition. His closing words were, "And now, Albert, blessed brother of mine, now it is your turn. Now you can go to Nuremberg to pursue your dream, and I will take care of you."
在这位年轻的艺术家返回家乡的那一天，家人为他准备了盛宴，庆祝他学成归来。当漫长而难忘的宴席快要结束时，伴随着音乐和笑声，亚尔伯起身答谢敬爱的哥哥几年来对他的支持，他说：“现在轮到你了，亲爱的哥哥，我会全力支持你到纽伦堡艺术学院攻读，实现你的梦想!”
All heads turned in eager expectation to the far end of the table where Albert sat, tears streaming down his pale face, shaking his lowered head from side to side while he sobbed and repeated, over and over, "No no no no."
所有的目光都急切地转移到桌子的另一端，坐在那里的Albert双泪直流，只见他垂下头，边摇头边重复说着：“不……不……”
Finally, Albert rose and wiped the tears from his cheeks. He glanced down the long table at the faces he loved, and then, holding his hands close to his right cheek, he said softly, "No, brother. I cannot go to Nuremberg. It is too late for me. Look look what four years in the mines has done to my hands! The bones in every finger have been smashed at least once, and lately I have been suffering from arthritis so badly in my right hand that I cannot even hold a glass to return your toast, much less make delicate lines on parchment or canvas with a pen or a brush. No, brother for me it is too late."
终于，Albert站了起来他，擦干脸颊上的泪水，看了看长桌两边他所爱的亲友们的脸，把双手移近右脸颊，说：“不，弟弟，我上不了纽伦堡艺术学院了。太迟了。看看我的双手──四年来在矿场工作，毁了我的手，关节动弹不得，现在我的手连举杯为你庆贺也不可能，何况是挥动画笔或雕刻刀呢?不，弟弟……已经太迟了……”
More than 450 years have passed. By now, Albrecht Durer's hundreds of masterful portraits, pen and silver-point sketches, watercolors, charcoals, woodcuts, and copper engravings hang in every great museum, but the odds are great that you, like most people, are familiar with only one of Albrecht Durer's works. More than merely being familiar with it, you very well may have a reproduction hanging in your home or office.
四百五十多年过去了，Albrecht Durer有成千上百部的杰作流传下来，他的速写、素描、水彩画、木刻、铜刻等可以在世界各地博物馆找到;然而，大多数人最为熟悉的，却是其中的一件作品。也许，你的家里或者办公室里就悬挂着一件它的复制品。
One day, to pay homage to Albert for all that he had sacrificed, Albrecht Durer painstakingly drew his brother's abused hands with palms together and thin fingers stretched skyward. He called his powerful drawing simply "Hands," but the entire world almost immediately opened their hearts to his great masterpiece and renamed his tribute of love "The Praying Hands."
为了补偿哥哥所做的牺牲，表达对哥哥的敬意，一天，Albrecht Durer下了很大的工夫把哥哥合起的粗糙的双手刻了下来。他把这幅伟大的作品简单地称为“双手”，然而，全世界的人都立刻敞开心扉，瞻仰这幅杰作，把这幅爱的作品重新命名为“祈祷之手”。
The next time you see a copy of that touching creation, take a second look. Let it be your reminder, if you still need one, that no one -no one ever makes it alone!
下次当你看到这幅感人的作品，仔细看一下。如果你也需要这么一幅画，就让它成为你的提醒，没有──它是世上独一无二的事物。
小故事大智慧·感动心灵的英文哲理故事篇三
The little country schoolhouse was heated by an old-fashioned, potbellied coal stove. A little boy had the job of coming to school early each day to start the fire and warm the room before his teacher and his classmates arrived.
One morning they arrived to find the schoolhouse engulfed in flames. They dragged the unconscious little boy out of the flaming building more dead than alive. He had major burns over the lower half of his body and was taken to the nearby county hospital.
From his bed the dreadfully burned, semi-conscious little boy faintly heard the doctor talking to his mother. The doctor told his mother that her son would surely die—which was for the best, really—for the terrible fire had devastated the lower half of his body.
But the brave boy didn't want to die. He made up his mind that he would survive. Somehow, to the amazement of the physician, he did survive. When the mortal danger was past, he again heard the doctor and his mother speaking quietly. The mother was told that since the fire had destroyed so much flesh in the lower part of his body, it would almost be better if he had died, since he was doomed to be a lifetime cripple with no use at all of his lower limbs.
Once more the brave boy made up his mind. He would not be a cripple. He would walk. But unfortunately from the waist down, he had no motor ability. His thin legs just dangled there, all but lifeless.
Ultimately he was released from the hospital. Every day his mother would massage his little legs, but there was no feeling, no control, nothing. Yet his determination that he would walk was as strong as ever.
When he wasn't in bed, he was confined to a wheelchair. One sunny day his mother wheeled him out into the yard to get some fresh air. This day, instead of sitting there, he threw himself from the chair. He pulled himself across the grass, dragging his legs behind him.
He worked his way to the white picket fence bordering their lot. With great effort, he raised himself up on the fence. Then, stake by stake, he began dragging himself along the fence, resolved that he would walk. He started to do this every day until he wore a smooth path all around the yard beside the fence. There was nothing he wanted more than to develop life in those legs.
Ultimately through his daily massages, his iron persistence and his resolute determination, he did develop the ability to stand up, then to walk haltingly, then to walk by himself—and then—to run.
He began to walk to school, then to run to school, to run for the sheer joy of running. Later in college he made the track team.
Still later in Madison Square Garden this young man who was not expected to survive, who would surely never walk, who could never hope to run—this determined young man, Dr. Glenn Cunningham, ran the world's fastest mile!
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