五年前的自己还不会建立免费邮箱，为了申请填表还特意让住在加州的表姐在新浪上申请了一个邮箱。
五年前的自己生了场病，半学期没上学，脖子的淋巴肿得像鹅蛋，大夫说干脆做切片吧，看看是不是肿瘤，学校说再不来上学就按休学处理， 自己头一次有欲哭无泪的感觉，
五年前的自己回到家带着哭腔喊：还让不让人活了，为了不缺高中成绩没上课也得参加期末考试，为了报了名的托福考试还得接着背单词，都这样了还想跟我动刀子。
五年前的自己没听那大夫的话，转到社区医院边打红霉素边背词边做题，一个礼拜以后好了，离期末考试还有四天。
五年前的自己到外地考托福和爸妈睡一间屋子，老爸打呼噜，让我一夜没合眼，这辈子头一次失眠。
五年前的自己没有信用卡，查托福分要通过三个人传话，所以知道是满分也怕中途有人传得不准。
五年前的自己不知道网上可以直接索取申请材料，特意到北方图书城买了一本白皮的美国名校十七所（也是唯一的一本介绍学校的书），老老实实的写了十封信塞到 牛皮纸信封里让妈妈上班时拿到邮局去寄，然后老老实实的等回信。
五年前的自己是看到同学受到耶鲁的申请表才知道耶鲁的英文名怎么拼。
五年前的自己书桌边上挂着一个纸兜子，里面装着十多个大学的申请资料，吃完晚饭趁老师不在拿钢笔捡几个简单的空添上，顺便再欣赏欣赏上面精美的校园照片。
五年前的自己看着申请表上对课外活动五花八门的分类直发蒙，看到工作经历一栏时差点写在中国劳动法规定不许雇佣童工。
五年前的自己还不知道什么叫NGO和NPO，志愿者服务经历还仅限于小学大队部组织到睿智学校教智障儿童唱“我去上学校，天天不迟到”。
五年前的自己虽然是育才的英语特长生，但好像从来不用英文写作，直到申请截止日期前五六十天才用晚自习课间十分钟在浑南的草场上边跑八百米边想自己过这十几年有什么好写的。
五年前的自己下好大的决心才坦然地占用两节晚自习时间给申请作文打草稿，头半小时觉得自己像贼，不务正业，后来进入了状态，坐得不远的同学说看得出我有创作热情。
五年前的自己被班主任警告不许把笔记本电脑带到学校，但还是便在寝室里洗脚边写东北育才学校简介（有的大学要求，尤其是美国以外从没有过申请者的中学），写到一半要掰手指头算有多少人得过国际奥赛金牌。
五年前的自己神经质似的要求保证八小时睡眠，尽管周围上铺下铺的手电都换成了台灯， 把寝室照得像孵化箱，我还是把窗户缝里刮出的北风调当催眠曲还给自己编故事听。
五年前的自己在操场的雪堆旁边和解散后的英语班同学一本正经的假装面试互相刁难。 五年前的自己头一次买休闲装以外的衣服，准备面试时穿的半正式的西服。
五年前的自己，面试之后觉得面试人实在高深莫测可是又平易近人，实在有话没说够，心想这么有学问有深度的人上的学校我肯定是不够格了，不过考大学也要考北 京的大学这样才能经常找他请教。
五年前的自己交完申请材料以后心里空落落的，因为脚踩两条船和原英语班的同学并肩作战的日子告一段落，自己又变成普通的高三学生了。
五年前的自己交了申请才知道自己申请的全是前二十的学校，一损俱损，一荣俱荣，做了十分不策略的事，充满理想主义者的傻劲儿。
五年前的自己查邮件时发现所申请的录取率最高的公立大学最先把我拒了，心里一慌，觉得这下没盼头了，急哭了。
五年前的自己家里上网要拨号，发通知的当晚网又上不去，干脆睡觉。
五年前的自己一大早听爸爸说网上拨通了，撂下筷子穿着衬裤就凑到电脑前，等到只有我自己能看懂的耶鲁招生办网页上，下载了半天才等到屏幕上出现了一只狗， 又是欢迎，到了第三页也不入正题，拐弯抹角的让你觉得有一个不太可能的好消息，爸妈让我翻译，我越翻爸妈越糊涂，最后我翻不下去了，因为嘴乐瓢了。
五年前的自己，决定在黑纸白字的通知书拿到手之前不能把消息当真似的告诉同学，爸妈也不许告诉亲戚同事，可是一天下来没一个人能守口如瓶
五年前的自己，心想要参加高考，以防签证万一通不过，可是后来觉得太虚伪，就把桌子搬到了最后一排，看自己的书。再后来发现在高考洪流之下自己这条漏网之 鱼和别人一起急流勇进有些多余，就十分不正式的告别了高中生活。
这 些都是看到五年前自己写的这篇申请作文之后钩起的一连串回忆。写这两篇东西的确占据我大脑好长一段时间。因为和现在的申请者相比，我们那时到了高二才隐约知道申请是怎么回事，所以从未有过机会为申 请大学而搞活动，参加竞赛，搞发明，备简历，也从来没有地方打听申请的具体步骤和要求，所以整个过程下来没少傻眼。看到看似宽泛但却十分具体的作文题，第 一个想法就是“要是我也积极参加与学习无关的课外活动多好？要是我也去竞选学生会干部该多好？要是我也报名理科竞赛多好？要是我也参加去日本的舞蹈团该多 好？要是平时再多读几本课外书多好？。。。”无数个要是过后是对有限个人经历的无限筛选，过滤，总结，回味，对自己内心深处无名渴望的理解和分析，对回忆 片段的剪辑，组合，才发现自己的普通下面埋着独特，看似平淡的人生经历能酝酿出可以打动人心的故事。
于是我开始写自己与好朋友对音乐的向往和热爱，两个人 如何买了长笛在校园里打游击似的找空闲时间冒着为别人制造噪音的舆论压力自学一门乐器，以至于我晚饭后买一根形似长笛的糖葫芦拎到教室里都吓同学一跳。我又写自己如何在住校的情况下让自己的花样滑冰技术有长进--下课 时在教学楼后的胡同的沥青地上照着书本练习不同的的旋转和跳跃动作，周末又如何把两个后脚跟都磨破了皮，十一月份的大冷天里提不上鞋，只好转着拖鞋上间操（直接导致我生那场多余的病）。我又写自己生长在一个如何独特的集体里，一个被学校视为头痛的差班实际上是一群充满创 造力，富有才华，对教育和社会结构有着独特见解的年轻人，他们敢让梦想飞到大洋彼岸，不顾自己的背景和美国的同龄人有多大差距，不顾学校和家长对于申请美 国学校的怀疑态度，不顾申请和高考的双重压力，各自用自己义无反顾，破釜沉舟，不计结果的决心和行动支持着彼此坚持申请的信念。我又写自己多么希望中国的 学校也能让学生更自由的发展，让学生不必在学业，艺术和体育之间作艰难的选择，让学生能以深厚的人文精神作为应用科学技术背后的基础理念而不仅仅是为了金 牌和其他暂时荣誉而投入的题海的漩涡。我写高三上学期的那场狮子座流星雨，一群十七岁的住校生凌晨时在灵光乍现的天文奇观下心里诞生的美丽希望。
另 一篇作文是写任何一种对你来说意义深刻的活动。我觉得自己跟其他申请者比没有什么特别拿得出手的成就，于是写了一种谁都能做也是谁都做过的活动---登山。这篇作文受了“英 语世界”上一篇关于坚持与放弃的短文的启示，实际上坦白了我初中三年级一次带队经历的失败。文章写得挺顺手，晚上七点钟一气写到半夜，之后就再没怎么改动 过，写完之后觉得有一种把过去感触认真倾吐之后的畅快。可能是耶鲁的招生办官员看了之后也有同样的畅快感，在我录取之后特意用笔写信给我说“谢谢你这篇关 于执著与放弃的文章，我把它大声地读给了终审委员会的成员。” 如今想起来，不禁感叹于自己当初的幸运。幸运的是由耶鲁这样从中国学生角度出发的学校，幸运的是有在中国生活二十余年的校友穿这带窟窿的白袜子端着瓷茶杯 在他那中国地质大学的简单宿舍里把我当朋友一样的谈学校里的喜怒哀乐，一起抱怨现实生活中可笑的愚昧，向我介绍他欣赏的俄国音乐。幸运的是整个申请过程充 满着神秘与挑战，而我却有着可以无话不谈的同伴一起逆流而上，度过那许多充满未知数的不安等待。幸运的是之前圈子里没有人做过申请，所以无论学校，家长还 是自己都没有什么目标，要求和压力。更幸运的是我没有得到过中介或培训学校的关于申请和考试技巧策略的真传，只是从始至终用近乎虔诚的态度填空白，写作 文，希望看到我那蓝黑钢笔字的人也能读到深深的诚意。这么古董的装在信封里的手写申请估计以后很少会见到了，可当时那种把完成的申请表连同作文仔细折好印 放到洁白的信封里，反复思量后终于封上后心里那种沉甸甸的喜悦和安全感及成就感却是现如今用电子表格的申请者们体会不到的。
以下是关于登山的作文，我从旧邮件的附件里找到，在此留作纪念，纪念那段难忘的青春岁月。
I am an avid mountaineer and I treasure all those images of mountain formed in my character.
At the age of five, my mom asked me to climb after her to the steepest rock. All the tourists below were intimidated by its 50 acclivity and chose the steps by its side. Mom told me, “Don’t be afraid no matter what happens, just hold fast and never let go.” I did, when mom’s boots stepped onto my fingers. My nerves trembled with pain and fear, but I kept my screams inside and clenched to the rock as she was trying to step upwards and put more weight on my poor fingers. Mom would not have known that unless she saw my hand bruised. That was the first bravado in my memory and then I acquired this love for mountain. Through the intimate touch of the rough surface, I got a sensation that I could surmount everything by holding fast and never letting go.
When I climbed, I forgot about my own existence. I was either embraced by the scenery underneath or engulfed in a fierce fighting against adverse weather and tough routes. The mountains are the same, but the people who climb them are different in their motives, aims and attitudes. I make every hiking experience an adventure by choosing the most rigorous paths and collecting the most excitement on my way.
Once in my freshman year of high school, our class was climbing a mountain in a field trip. We separated into several teams at the foot of the mountain. I led my team to a path that was so challenging and appealing to me. It proved to be a short cut since we arrived at our destination one-hour earlier. I suggested that we should move on to another mountain and see what was lying there invisible between the two. My teammates agreed and followed me. “Can we get back on time?” A girl asked me on the halfway when she was exhausted. I reflected on my record of covering 5 mountains in 3 hours and replied, “it’s a piece of cake.” I could not quench my curiosity and stuck to my decision. Later, to my surprise, we found us by a magnificent lake in the arms of the mountain. The glowing sunlight reflected by the water was so warming, sparkling and brilliant and it was too good to be true. We were immersed in the bliss of this wondrous discovery when I suddenly realized that the sun was setting. The golden light dimmed by and by and my stomach sunk too. How can I get my group back in dark? I obviously overestimated our stamina and overlooked the power of the nature. Luckily, we did not get lost and fathomed our way back in half darkness. And we were late, for 45 minutes. The whole class was waiting for us in anxiety and gave up the evening tour to the lake we just visited. On the bus, no one complained. Yet I could not forgive myself for the shame brought to my team and the pity left for my classmates.
That hiking experience, like many others, was beautiful. Yet it was more of a mockery of my passion, ecstasy and arrogance that were privileged by youth. The mountain re-taught me a lesson on holding fast and letting go. It was not an easy one to learn, especially when I was young and thought that the world was mine to command, that whatever I desired with the full force of my passionate being could be achieved. But the mysterious working of nature and society is not that simple. To give up part of the personal aspiration and relinquish the joy after an achievement, at times, requires exceptional courage and determination. The insights gleaned that day had a profound impact on me, and my campus activities. Thereafter, I made careful plans to make each activity rewarding for those who participated. I climbed the mountains along the path selected beforehand with a written map in mind and on paper. I cared more about others’ feelings and soothed their apprehension when we were starting something unfamiliar to us. I allot plenty of time to enjoy the way back from the top of the hill. I knew exactly when to strive to the peak and when to get down to launch the next exploration. I still take risks, but I take full responsibility of my people and myself. I became one who was trust-worthy instead of being a heedless adventurer.
Thus I became an avid mountaineer, calm and strong. I continued to cope with the paradox of holding fast and letting go. Mountain is wisdom incarnate and offers me a life-long lesson to learn from. Whenever I am climbing, I hear her endearing voice talking and teaching.
