Footprints on my heart 留在我心中的足迹

Footprints on my heart

I don't remember exactly when he came into my life.He was just always here.My grandfather was the most incredible person in the world.

Some days Papa,as I called him,and I would go down to a little creek that flowed into river and go fishing.He taught me how to cast,reel and the scariest of all,bait a hook.I remember that what it was like to catch my first fish,which Papa called a bluegill.For the first time in my life.I felt I had accomplished something useful.I was proud of myself.

Other days we had sit on the front porch in the rocking chairs he had made and talk.

But the thing I loved most was when we'd go out to the barn and he'd make things out of wood. He made me my first rocking horse when I was four.It wasn't anything fancy,but like me,Papa believed if it came from the heart,then that alone made it beautiful.

Above all,anything that could bother a seven-year-old was something that I could always talk to him about.Papa would set me on his knee and listen to me cry.He made the world go away with one hug.

Whenever I needed punishment,he always talked to me about what I had done.He would ask me why I made that mistake,while any other authority figure I knew went straight to physical punishment.He was the one person who had my respect,and who actually treated me with respect in return.

Something else I admired was that he didn't treat me like a girl who only related to pink ribbons and Barbies.He treated me like a person.

When I turn eight,a horrifying fact changed my life forever.That fact was death.

In September,they discovered that my Papa had cancer.It never sank in,even at his funeral the next February,that I'd never see his alive again.

The organizing six months of his sickness were long and cruel,especially to my grandmother,who could not talk without crying.I didn't konw what death was.It was too much for an eight-year-old,so I blocked it out.Whatever death was,it wasn't real to me.

Slowly,I learn I couldn't block it out.there were no more rodeos,no more fishing,no more horses and no one left to talk to.When I walked into my grandmother's house,there wss no longer the smell of the smoke mixed with coffee and sawdust, which was what Papa always smelled like.Everyone around me was sad,and I was learning what it was like to sad.

It finally hit me that he was gone.Things started getting rough guys and friends.I knew if Papa had been alive,he could've helped.Instead I faced the world alone,and believe me,there are many pressures from sixth grade to high school,and I missed Papa.Night after night,I would go to bed cry.

In seventh grade,I hung out with the wrong crowd.One morning,in the bathroom,a gril offered me a cigarette.All of a sudden,something clicked in my mind.Cigarettes are what had killed my Papa.

"No,"was my simple but strong reply.Regardless of their comments like "good girl" and "too-good".I stuck with my no smoking polichy.Since then,I have been offered cigarettes many times,and I have always replied with a simple "no."I wouldn't want to die of smoking.I wouldn't want my grandchilren feeling the way I did.

I was too young to figure out what a great model I had around me when he was alive.But I realize now.Papa is in every thought I have today.I still have all our special memories in my heart.He always made me believe in myself.Anything I do,he has influenced in some way.No one has ever or will ever have the patience he had with me.

His death taught me many lessons,but the one so harshly instilled in me is that no one,even someone as great as him,is invincible.

翻译:

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　留在我心中的足迹

　　我不确切记得他是什么时候进入我生活中的,他就是始终在我生活中存在着.我的祖父是世界上最了不起的人.

　　有些日子,我和"爸爸"----我这么称呼他-----会去一条最终流进河里的小溪钓鱼.他教我怎么钓,收钓线和我最怕的往吊钩上装钓饵.我还记得我钓到第一条鱼时的情景,"爸爸"官它叫浅蓝色大太阳鱼.我有生以来感到自己有所成就.我自豪不已.

　　其他日子里,我们常常坐在前门廊处他制作的摇椅上聊天.

　　而我最喜欢的是我们外出到谷仓去,他用木头做东西.我四岁时,他给我做了我的第一匹木马.那不是什么花俏玩意儿.但"爸爸"的想法跟我一样,只要是出自内心的,就足以使它美不可言.

　　尤其是,我总可以跟他谈任何让一个七岁孩子烦恼的事."爸爸"会把我放在他膝上,听我哭泣,他只要拥抱一下我,我就会雨过天晴.

　　么当我该受罚时,他总会跟我谈论我做的事情.他会问我为什么犯下那样的过错,而我认识的任何其他权威人士都是直接诉诸体罚他是我尊重的人,而实际上他也以尊重的态度待我.

　　还令我钦佩的是,他不把我当作一个喜欢粉红色丝带和芭比娃娃的女孩来对待,而是把我当作一个完整的人.

　　我八岁时,一个令我恐惧的事实永远改变了我的生活.那就是死亡.

　　九月,"爸爸"被诊断出患有癌症.即使在第二年二月举行的葬礼上,我还不能理解这一事实:我再也不能见到活着的他了.

　　他那折磨人的半年病期即漫长又残酷,对我祖母来说尤其如此,她一说话就掉眼泪.我不明白什么是死亡.那对一个八岁的孩子来说太无法理解了,于是我就抑制自己不去想它.不管死亡是什么,我都认为那不是真实的.

　　渐渐地,我懂得了我不能把死亡拒之意识之外.再也没有木马骑术表演,再也没有钓鱼,再也没有马,再也没有与之聊天的人了.当我走进祖母的房间时,在也闻不到夹着咖啡味和锯末味的烟味,那是:爸爸"一直散发出来的气味.我周围的人都是悲伤不已,我也逐渐体验到悲伤是什么滋味.

　　最终我意识到他已经离我们远去了.没了他,亲友们的处境便得很难我知道,倘若他还活着他会帮忙的.而我现在独自面对世界,相信我,从六年级到中学有许多压力.我想念"爸爸".夜复一夜,我哭泣着上床睡觉.

　　七年级时,我结交了一帮不该结交的朋友.一天早上在盥洗房,一个女孩给我一支烟请我抽.突然间,我脑海里敲响起警钟.杀害"爸爸"的正是香烟.

　　"不"是我简单但是坚定的回答.尽管他们对我说诸如"好姑娘"和"太乖了"这样的话,我仍然坚持我的不吸烟方针.自那之后,有人曾多次给我抽烟,我始终简单回答"不".我不想死于吸烟,我不想让我的孙辈们有像我一样的感受.

　　他活着时,我还太小,无法理解我身旁有个多么了不起的典范.可现在我明白了.如今他每每出现在我的思想中,我心中依然有着所有关于我们特别的回忆.他总是使我相信自己.我做任何事情,他都以这样和那样的方式影响我.没有人曾经,也永远不会有人像他那样耐心地待我.

　　他的故去故去教给了我很多,但其中灌输给我的最无情的是,任何人,甚至像他那样了不起的人,都不是不可战胜的.