阳光下的时光（2/2）
《最优美的散文》作者：徐翰林 2017-04-13 16:07
d productive business.”
I too was once a boy in love with a pond?rich in sunny hours and summer days.Sun and summer are still what they always were?but the boy and the pond changed.The boy?who is now a man?no longer finds much time for idle drifting.The pond has been annexed by a great city.The swamps where herons once hunted are now drained and filled with houses.The bay where water lilies quietly floated is now a harbor for motor boats.In short?everything that the boy loved no longer exists—except in the man's memory of it.
Some people insist that only today and tomorrow matter.But how much poorer we would be if we really lived by that rule ! So much of what we do today is frivolous and futile and soon forgotten.So much of what we hope to do tomorrow never happens.
The past is the bank in which we store our most valuable possession:the memories that give meaning and depth to our lives.
Those who truly treasure the past will not bemoan the passing of the good old days?because days enshrined in memory are never lost.Death itself is powerless to still a remembered voice or erase a remembered smile.And for one boy who is now a man?there is a pond which neither time nor tide can change?where he can still spend a quiet hour in the sun.
I too was once a boy in love with a pond?rich in sunny hours and summer days.Sun and summer are still what they always were?but the boy and the pond changed.The boy?who is now a man?no longer finds much time for idle drifting.The pond has been annexed by a great city.The swamps where herons once hunted are now drained and filled with houses.The bay where water lilies quietly floated is now a harbor for motor boats.In short?everything that the boy loved no longer exists—except in the man's memory of it.
Some people insist that only today and tomorrow matter.But how much poorer we would be if we really lived by that rule ! So much of what we do today is frivolous and futile and soon forgotten.So much of what we hope to do tomorrow never happens.
The past is the bank in which we store our most valuable possession:the memories that give meaning and depth to our lives.
Those who truly treasure the past will not bemoan the passing of the good old days?because days enshrined in memory are never lost.Death itself is powerless to still a remembered voice or erase a remembered smile.And for one boy who is now a man?there is a pond which neither time nor tide can change?where he can still spend a quiet hour in the sun.