One day when I was 12, my mother gave me an order: I was to walk to the public library, and borrow at least one book for the summer. This was one more weapon for her to defeat my strange problem — inability to read. In the library, I found my way into the “Children’s Room.” I sat down on the floor and pulled a few books off the shelf at random. The cover of a book caught my eye. It presented a picture of a beagle. I had recently had a beagle, the first and only animal companion I ever had as a child. He was my secret sharer, but one morning, he was gone, given away to someone who had the space and the money to care for him. I never forgot my beagle.
There on the book’s cover was a beagle which looked identical to my dog. I ran my fingers over the picture of the dog on the cover. My eyes ran across the title, Amos, the Beagle with a Plan. Unknowingly, I had read the title. Without opening the book, I borrowed it from the library for the summer.
Under the shade of a bush, I started to read about Amos. I read very, very slowly with difficulty. Though pages were turned slowly, I got the main idea of the story about a dog who, like mine, had been separated from his family and who finally found his way back home. That dog was my dog, and I was the little boy in the book. At the end of the story, my mind continued the final scene of reunion, on and on, until my own lost dog and I were, in my mind, running together. My mother’s call returned me to the real world. I suddenly realized something: I had read a book, and I had loved reading that book. Everyone knew I could not read. But I had read it. Books could be incredibly wonderful and I was going to read them. I never told my mother about my “miraculous” (奇迹般地) experience that summer, but she saw a slow but remarkable improvement in my classroom performance during the next year. And years later, she was proud that her son had read thousands of books, was awarded a PhD in literature, and authored his own books, articles, poetry and fiction. The power of the words has held.
有一天在我12岁的时候,我妈妈给了我一个订单:我走到公共图书馆,并为这个夏天至少借一本书。这是一个武器为她打败我的奇怪的问题——无法阅读。在图书馆,我发现我进入孩子的房间。“我在地板上坐下来,把几本书从书架上随意。一本书的封面吸引了我的眼球。它是一幅
小猎犬,我最近有一个小猎犬,第一和唯一的动物伙伴我小时候过。他是我的秘密分配者,但是有一天早晨,他不见了,给人空间和钱来照顾他。我永远不会忘记我的小猎犬。
书的封面上有一个小猎犬了相同我的狗。我用手指轻轻地抚摸狗封面的照片。我的眼睛跑过标题,阿莫斯,小猎犬号计划,不知不觉地,我读过标题。没有打开书,我从图书馆借了它的夏天。
布什在树荫下,我开始读到阿莫斯。我读非常,非常缓慢和困难。尽管页面慢慢转过身,我的主要想法关于狗的故事,像我,分开他的家人,他终于找到了
回家的路。那只狗是我的狗,和我被书中的小男孩。在故事的结局,我的心继续聚会的最后一幕,,直到我自己丢失的狗和我,在我看来,一起跑。
我的母亲叫我回到真实的世界。我突然意识到:我读过一本书,我喜欢读那本书。每个人都知道我不能阅读,但我读过它。书籍可能是令人难以置信的奇妙,我打算读。我没有告诉我妈妈关于我的“奇迹”(奇迹般地)经验,夏天,但她看见一个缓慢但显著改善我的课堂表现在明年,年后,她感到自豪,她的儿子阅读成千上万的书籍,获得文学博士学位,并撰写自己的书籍、文章、诗歌和小说。这句话的力量了。
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