佚名 /Anonymous
AprildaysinPortland, Oregon, ', ', Ifelttiredanddiscouraged.
Inoticedtheclutteronmydesk: clean-upfromabusinesstrippiledhigh, stacksofarticles, projectsthatneededattention, , chininhands, Iwonderedwhatallthiswasworth.
Thephysical, emotional, andspiritualenergyrequiredinafieldthatcalleduponmyprofessionalsinging, speaking, ? AmImakinganykindofcontribution?
Morosely, , obviouslySouthern, said, “Hi, I'mDan, andI''tknowme, butIheardyousinginJapan.”
Japan! .“Well,” hecontinued, “IfiguredIneededtocallyou, becauseyourmusicmadearealimpactonmylife, andIfiguredyoudon', Iwassomoved, , IstartedstudyingmymusicsoIcouldgointotheministrymyselfandtouchothersthewayyoutouchedme.I'mcallingyoubecauseIjustgraduatedfromcollegethisweekandwillbemovingaheadwithmydream.”
“Howintheworlddidyoueverfindmynumber?” Iasked, fairlystunnedattheserevelationsfromthisfriendlystrangerontheendoftheline.“Oh, IcalledaroundtillIfoundit,” hesaid.“Somehow, tocallyourightnowfeltrealimportant.” Realimportant! Littledidheknow!
Wecontinuedwithourconversation, ! Idon''', Godusedhisimpeccabletimingtogivemeapreciousgift-acallfromayoungmannamedDantogivemeasecondwind.
我一直不大清楚我能感动谁，如何感动；我也不大清楚，我的付出会产生怎样的影响；我一直也看不到我的劳动成果。然而这次，上帝在完美的时刻给了我一份贵重的礼物——一个叫丹的年轻人打来的电话。它让我重新振作。
俄勒冈州波特兰的四月，能让你相信冬天永远不会过去。两周的瓢泼大雨过后，灰色的天空中还是阴雨连连。停车场上随处可见的积水还未消退。我坐在书桌前，透过树丛，看着这个城市，感受着自己的小故事。我感觉自己长久以来似乎给予了太多。同多数的职业妇女一样，我要应对各种事情，我感到疲惫和气馁。
我注意到了书桌上的零乱：要清整的出差东西堆得老高，成堆的项目单，费神的计划，还有大堆的语音信箱留言。我坐在椅子上，托着下巴在想：我做这一切是为了什么。
