读点好英文:Thank You for Correcting Me, Sister! 修女，谢谢您的指教！

Thank You for Correcting Me, Sister! 修女，谢谢您的指教！

Sister Helen P. Mrosia

He was in the third grade class I taught at Saint Mary's School in Morris, Minnesota. All 34 of my students were dear to me, but Mark Eklund was one in a million. Very neat in appearance, he had that happy-to-be attitude that made even his occasional mischievousness delightful.

Mark also talked incessantly. I tried to remind him again and again that talking without permission was not acceptable. What impressed me so much, though, was the sincere response every time I had to correct him for misbehaving. "Thank you for correcting me, Sister!" I didn't know what to make of it at first, but before long I became accustomed to hearing it many times a day.

One morning my patience was growing thin when Mark talked once too often. I made a novice-teacher's mistake. I looked at Mark and said, "If you say one more word, I am going to tape your mouth shut!"

It wasn't ten seconds later when Chuck blurted out, "Mark is talking again." I hadn't asked any of the students to help me watch Mark, but since I had stated the punishment in front of the class, I had to act on it.

I remember the scene as if it had occurred this morning. I walked to my desk, very deliberately opened the drawer and took out a roll of masking tape. Without saying a word, I proceeded to Mark's desk, tore off two pieces of tape and made a big × with them over his mouth. I then returned to the front of the room.

As I glanced at Mark to see how he was doing, he winked at me. That did it! I started laughing. The entire class cheered as I walked back to Mark's desk, removed the tape and shrugged my shoulders. His first words were "Thank you for correcting me, Sister."

At the end of the year I was asked to teach junior high math. The years flew by, and before I knew it Mark was in my classroom again. He was more handsome than ever and just as polite. Since he had to listen carefully to my instruction in the "new math", he did not talk as much in ninth grade.

One Friday things just didn't feel right. We had worked hard on a new concept all week, and I sensed that the students were growing frustrated with themselves—and edgy with one another. I had to stop this crankiness before it got out of hand. So I asked them to list the names of the other students in the room on two sheets of paper, leaving a space between each name. Then I told them to think of the nicest thing they could say about each of their classmates and write it down.

It took the remainder of the class period to finish the assignment, but as the students left the room, each one handed me their paper. Chuck smiled. Mark said, "Thank you for teaching me, Sister. Have a good weekend."

That Saturday, I wrote down the name of each student on a separate sheet of paper, and I listed what everyone else had said about that individual. On Monday I gave each student his or her list. Some of them ran, two pages. Before long, the entire class was smiling. "Realty?" I heard whispered. "I never knew that meant anything to anyone !" "I didn't know others liked me so much!"

No one ever mentioned those papers in class again. I never knew if they discussed them after class or with their parents, but it didn't matter. The exercise had accomplished its purpose. The students were happy with themselves and one another again.

That group of students moved on. Several years later, after I had returned from a vacation, my parents met me at the airport. As we were driving home, Mother asked the usual questions about the trip: How the weather was, my experiences in general. There was a slight lull in the conversation. Mother gave Dad a sideways glance and simply said, "Dad?" My father cleared his throat, "The Eklunds called last night," he began. "Really?" I said, "I haven't heard from them for several years. I wonder how Mark is." Dad responded quietly, "Mark was killed in Vietnam," he said, "The funeral is tomorrow, and his parents would like it if you could attend." To this day I can still point to the exact spot on 1-494 where Dad told me about Mark.

I had nevel seen a serviceman in a military coffin before. Mark looked so handsome, so mature. All I could think at that moment was, Mark, I would give all the masking tape in the world if only you could talk to me. The church was packed with Mark's friends. Chuck's sister sang "The Battle Hymn of the Republic." Why did it have to rain on the day of the funeral? It was difficult enough at the graveside. The pastor said the usual prayers and the bugler played taps. One by one those who loved Mark took a last walk by the coffin and sprinkled it with holy water.

I was the last one to bless the coffin. As I stood there, one of the soldiers who had acted as a pallbearer came up to me. "Were you Mark's math teacher?" he asked. I nodded as I continued to stare at the coffin. "Mark talked about you a lot," he said.

After the funeral, most of Mark's former classmates headed to Chuck's farmhouse for lunch. Mark's mother and father were there, obviously waiting for me. "We want to show you something," his father said, taking a wallet out of his pocket. "They found this on Mark when he was killed. We thought you might recognize it."

Opening the billfold, he carefully removed two worn pieces of notebook paper that had obviously been taped, folded and refolded many times. I knew without looking that the papers were the ones on which I had listed all the good things each of Mark's classmates had said about him. "Thank you so much for doing that," Mark's mother said, "As you can see, Mark treasured it."

Mark's classmates started to gather around us. Chuck smiled rather sheepishly and said, "I still have my list. It's in the top drawer of my desk at home." John's wife said, "John asked me to put his in our wedding album." "I have mine, too," Marilyn said, "It's in my diary." Then Vicki, another classmate, reached into her pocketbook, took out her wallet and showed her worn and frazzled list to the group. "I can carry this with me at all times," Vicki said without batting an eyelash, "I think we all saved our lists."

That's when I finally sat down cried. I cried for Mark and for all his friends who would never see him again.

修女，谢谢您的指教！

［美］莫丽萨修女

我曾在明尼苏达州莫里斯市的圣玛丽中学带三年级班，班上有34名学生，我都很喜爱。而马克·埃克隆是最特别的一个。他衣冠整洁，有点玩世不恭，甚至偶尔的淘气行为也很招人喜欢。

马克上课时经常说话。我一次次地提醒他，未经允许不能随便讲话。然而使我印象深刻的是，每次我纠正他的不礼貌行为时。他总会真挚地回答：“修女，谢谢您的指教！”最初听到这话时，我简直不知所措。但每天听得多了，很快也就习惯了。

一天早上，马克又不停地说话，我忍无可忍。犯了一个新老师常犯的错误。我盯着马克说：“如果你再多说一个字我就把你的嘴巴用胶带封上！”

10秒钟还不到，查克就大叫：“马克又说话了！”我并没让其他同学帮我监督马克，但既然当着全班学生的面说出了要惩罚他的话，那就一定要执行。

我还清楚地记得当时的情景，仿佛就发生在今天早上：我走上讲台，从容地打开抽屉，拿出胶带，一言不发地走到马克桌前，撕下两片胶带交叉地贴在他的嘴巴上，然后回到讲台。

我瞥了他一眼想看他有何反应，他却冲我眨眨眼。我忍不住笑了，只好走到马克桌前，撕下胶带，无奈地耸耸肩，学生们都笑了。没想到他的第一句话还是：“修女，谢谢您的指教。”

那年年底，我被安排去教初中数学。时光荏苒，一晃几年过去了，马克又成了我们班的学生。他比以前更帅气了，还像以往一样彬彬有礼。因为要细心听我教的“新数学”，九年级的马克不像以前那样爱说话了。

一个星期五，事情很不顺心。整整一星期，我们都在努力学习一个新概念，我感到学生们都有些气馁了，而且急躁易怒。情况变得更糟糕，我必须控制这种焦躁。于是我让学生们在两张纸上列出班上同学的名字，在名字之间留出空白，并想想每位同学的优点，然后写在纸上。

这花去了那节课的剩余时间，当学生们离开教室时，每个人都交上了他们写好的东西。查克面带微笑地看着我。马克对我说：“修女，谢谢您的指教。周末愉快！”

那个周六，我在纸上分别写下了每个学生的名字，并记下他们的优点。星期一，我把这些纸发给每个人，有些人的优点长达两页。不一会儿，全班学生都开心极了。“真的吗？”我听到他们小声议论着，“我从没想过，那对别人如此有意义！”“我从不知道别人这么喜欢我！”

之后，没人再提纸条的事了。我不知道课后他们是否与父母谈过此事，但那并不重要。这次活动已经达到了目的，学生们之间又能相亲相爱，愉快相处了。

这届学生继续升到高年级。几年后，我度假回来，父母到机场接我，开车回家的路上，母亲问了我旅途中诸如天气、经历之类的一些琐事。突然，她停下了，侧脸看了父亲一眼，说：“她爸？”父亲清了下嗓子说道：“埃克隆家昨晚打电话来了。”“真的吗？”我问，“我好几年都没有他们的消息了，不知道马克现在过得怎样。”

父亲很平静，“马克牺牲在越南了。”他说，“葬礼明天举行，他的父母很希望你能参加。”直到现在，我仍清晰记得是在1-494公路上，父亲告诉了我这一噩耗。

我以前从未见过士兵躺在军用灵柩里的样子。马克看上去很英俊、成熟。那一刻，我想到的是：马克，只要你能和我说说话。我愿将世上所有的胶带丢弃。教堂里都是马克的朋友，查克的姐姐唱着《合众国战歌》。为什么非得在葬礼那天下雨？沉重的心已经够难受了。牧师按常规做了祷告，号手吹起了军号。深爱着马克的人们一个接一个地围着棺木走了一圈，并向它洒圣水。

我最后一个向马克的灵柩祝福。站在那里时，一个抬灵柩的士兵走了过来。“您是马克的数学老师吗？”他问我。我点点头，继续盯着灵柩。“马克以前经常提到您。”他说道。

葬礼后，许多马克以前的同学都去查克的农场吃午饭。马克的父母也在那边，显然是在等着我。“我们想给您看些东西，”马克的父亲边说边从口袋里拿出一只皮夹，“马克牺牲时，他的战友在他身上发现的，我们认为您可能认得。”

他打开皮夹，小心翼翼地取出两张破损的笔记本纸，两张纸很明显被经常打开、折起，也用胶带粘过好多次了。不用看内容我就知道是当初我列出同学们说过的关于马克的优点的那两张纸。“很感谢您这么做，”马克的母亲说道，“您看，马克很珍视它。”

马克的同学开始围过来。查克笑着，腼腆地说：“我也保存着那张纸条。放在家里书桌最上层的抽屉里。”约翰的妻子说：“约翰让我把纸条放在我们的结婚相册里。”“我的也还在，”玛丽琳说，“我夹在日记本里。”接着维姬从她的手提包里拿出皮夹，把她那张旧的、磨损的纸条给大家看。“我一直随身带着，”维姬认真地说道，“我想我们每个人都保存着它。”

那一刻我坐下来，哭了，为马克哭泣，也为再也见不到马克的朋友们而哭泣。

实战提升

Practising & Exercise

导读

莫丽萨修女（Sister Helen P. Mrosia），美国著名的小学老师，她独特的教育方法为大家所称赞。她把独特的教育方法以及心得体会记录下来，如今她的很多散文已成为教育界探索教学方法的宝典。

在这篇文章中，作者向我们说明了一个事实：老师的力量总能出乎我们的预料。莫丽萨修女当年一个无心的举动，却使整个班的学生在成长的道路上心存感激，他们是如此珍视朋友间的这份感情。老师让他们重新认识到了自己的可贵之处。多年以后，这份感动仍然伴随着大家。

核心单词

mischievous [ˈmistʃivəs] adj. 恶作剧的；调皮的，淘气的

deliberately [diˈlibərətli] adv. 慎重地；谨慎地

crankiness [ˈkrækinis] n. 任性；古怪

sprinkle [ˈspriŋkl] v. 洒，喷淋；撒

frazzle [ˈfræzl] v. 把……穿破；使……磨损

翻译

I tried to remind him again and again that talking without permission was not acceptable.

I remember the scene as if it had occurred this morning.

It took the remainder of the class period to finish the assignment, but as the students left the room, each one handed me their paper.